Three days of careful politeness and strained conversations that skirted around everything they both wanted to say.
Sybil stared at her reflection in the dressing table mirror, noting the shadows beneath her eyes, the way her usually smooth hair seemed determined to escape its pins this morning. She’d been sleeping poorly, her dreams filled with amber eyes and gentle touches and the memory of Hugo’s voice saying he couldn’t lose her.
“You look dreadful.”
Sybil looked up from her untouched breakfast to find Hugo standing in the doorway of the morning room, already dressed for riding in leather boots and a dark coat that emphasized his broad shoulders.
“Good morning to you, too,” she replied tartly. “You certainly know how to flatter a lady.”
“I wasn’t trying to flatter you. I was making an observation.” He moved into the room with that predatory grace she was learning to recognize. “You have shadows under your eyes, you’re pale as parchment, and you’ve been staring at the same piece of toast for ten minutes without taking a bite.”
Because every time I close my eyes, I see you moving toward me with that look in your eyes. Because I spent the entire night wondering what would have happened if that tea table hadn’t been there.
“I slept poorly,” she said with deliberate understatement.
“Did you?” Hugo settled into the chair across from her, his presence filling the small room in ways that made concentration impossible. “Any particular reason?”
You. You’re the reason, you impossible, infuriating man.
“Too much excitement, I expect. The ball, meeting so many people…”
“Ah, yes. The ball.” His voice held that familiar note of dry amusement. “Quite an eventful evening all around.”
Eventful. That’s one way to describe nearly surrendering to passion in my bedchamber.
“Indeed,” she agreed carefully.
“Tell me,” Hugo continued, his dark gaze fixed on her face with uncomfortable intensity, “do you have any plans for this afternoon?”
The abrupt change of subject caught her off guard. “Plans? I… no, I don’t think so. Why?”
“Because I thought you might enjoy an outing.”
“What sort of outing?”
“The sort where you stop looking like you’re about to expire from exhaustion and get some fresh air.” He leaned back in his chair though his eyes never left her face. “Hyde Park, perhaps. A carriage ride, some conversation that doesn’t involve broken crockery.”
Is he asking me to… spend time with him? Voluntarily?
“I’m not sure that’s wise,” she said slowly.
“Wise?” Hugo’s eyebrow arched in that way that always made her pulse quicken. “Since when have you been concerned with wisdom?”
Since I started wanting things I have no business wanting.
“Since always,” she lied.
“Liar.” His mouth curved in a smile that was pure masculine satisfaction. “The woman who married a complete stranger for the sake of orphaned children is hardly cautious by nature.”
The woman who nearly kissed that same stranger last night is even less cautious.
“That was different. That was for the children.”
“Was it?” Hugo leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to that intimate register that always made her stomach flutter. “Or was it because you wanted something for yourself for once?”
Something for myself. When was the last time I wanted something purely for my own sake?
“The children needed?—”
