She sagged forward and he spun her onto her back, breathing hard. With a final thrust, he shuddered and jerked out of her, spending into his hand with an expression of utter abandon. He fumbled over the side of the bed to clean his hand with his crumpled waistcoat, then drew her back into his arms, her head on his chiseled chest, where she could hear the rapid pounding of his heart.
Elizabeth wrapped her arm around her brawny tinker and held on tight. This felt… right. Maybe she hadn’t spent her life searching for a warrior after all. Maybe what she needed was someone just like Stephen.
One short night together was not nearly long enough.
31
The next twenty-four hours passed in a whirlwind of lovemaking. Stephen and Elizabeth could not walk within three yards of each other without finding themselves atop a sofa or against a wall or on a chair, with frequent breaks for rest or stretching or cuddles. He had never felt giddier.
At the moment, they were up in the topmost room of the northern turret, ostensibly so he could show her how the whispering walls worked, as well as the views from the various telescopes.
They’d done all of that and more. They were now collapsed in a naked heap in the center of a soft, thick rug Stephenmighthave had sent up to the turret just in case they tumbled into each other’s arms.
As splendid as he found their encounters, Stephen could not shake the constant fear that each time would be the last.
It wasn’t simply a matter of not yet having made promises of a shared future. There weren’t any promises to make. Elizabeth had been clear from the beginning that she viewed her relationship with him as nothing more than a brief holiday from her real life. She still talked about returning home to her family and what sort of mission she might be sent on next.
If there was another prince in a castle to save, Stephen hoped the bastard kept his shirt on.
Uncharitable? Yes. Hypocritical? So be it. He didn’t want to be aforgotten domino in the middle of a long line. He wanted to be the domino left standing, instead of brushed aside or packed away.
But pushing Elizabeth was not the path forward. She would have to choose him of her own free will, or not at all.
“I’ll miss this,” she murmured in his arms. “Nothing will top this mission.”
Stephen’s exposed skin felt colder than ever. She wouldn’thaveto miss this. No, they couldn’t keep the castle, but that didn’t mean they had to give up on each other.
Except it sounded as though Elizabeth had already done just that. She was relegating him to a memory before he was even gone from sight.
“You are aware,” he said softly, “that since both of us live in—”
“The battle royal is imminent,” the telescope in the corner said in a perfect imitation of Reddington’s voice. A discarded shoe answered in the real Duke of Wellington’s voice, “Then prepare to die!”
Throwing voices again. Elizabeth turned into a regular court jester whenever Stephen brought up topics she didn’t wish to discuss. Things like what might or might not happen when their forced proximity ended and the future was up to them.
Very well. If she wanted to keep their focus on the problem at hand for now, he supposed he couldn’t blame her. He just hoped to have enough time to convince her to give him a chance before the case ended, and their relationship terminated right along with it.
Stephen pushed himself up on one elbow to gaze over at her. “Pomp and arrogance aside, Reddington should not be underestimated. There’s nothing he hates more than looking foolish. He has an army. He will employ any trick he can to get what he wants.”
“Let him try his best,” Elizabeth replied. “Remember my request for equal numbers? After our last negotiations, I called in reinforcements.”
He raised his brows. “King George’s army, I hope?”
“Even better,” she assured him. “My siblings.”
Stephen’s stomach gave a little lurch. “Your family is on their way here?”
Marvelous. They wouldn’t just fight on their sister’s side. They’d take Elizabeth away.
If his life had been lonely before he’d understood what—and whom—he was missing, it would be unbearably drab without encounters with Elizabeth to look forward to.
She nodded distractedly. “Well, most of my siblings are coming. Chloe and Faircliffe cannot leave London because of Parliament and the baby. But the other seven should arrive the day before the siege. Which should give us plenty of time to prepare our counterattack.”
“The day before the siege? That’s today.” He fumbled in his discarded trousers for his pocket watch. “It’s half seven in the morning. Are you saying your family could arrive at any moment?”
“Mm-hm.” Elizabeth propped herself up on her elbows. “Do you think Reddington will storm the castle at ten o’clock sharp tomorrow? Or do you think he’ll camp out the night before, to be outside our walls at the break of dawn, trumpets blaring?”
“I don’t know.”
