“Good,” he said quietly. “That’s good.”
Louise pressed her face into the musty pillow and willed the night to end.
Tomorrow, they would return to Calborough House. Tomorrow, she would be Lady Louise again, dutiful and proper and firmly in control.
But tonight, in this shabby room that smelled of failure and old smoke, she let herself mourn something she had never truly had.
The storm raged on.
Sleep did not come.
CHAPTER 11
“We can leave now.” Aaron kept his voice carefully neutral as he shook Louise awake, maintaining a distance between them in the dim light of dawn.
She stirred slowly, copper hair spilling across the dingy pillow, and for a moment, her eyes held confusion before memory flooded back. He watched her walls rebuild themselves, watched her transform from the passionate woman who’d demanded his touch to the proper, responsible Lady Louise.
“The storm has passed?” Her voice emerged husky with sleep.
Aaron forced himself not to remember how it had sounded speaking his name in the darkness.
“Yes. The streets should be passable.”
She sat up, reaching for her boots. Aaron turned away, giving her privacy while she prepared herself, though the gesture felt hollow after what they’d shared.
What they’d almost shared.
The distance was short, but the ride back to Calborough House felt like it lasted a lifetime. Fresh snow muffled their journey and turned London pristine and deceptively pure.
Neither of them spoke. What words could bridge the chasm between what had happened and what should have happened?
Aaron kept slightly ahead, ostensibly checking for ice, avoiding the sight of her. Every glimpse brought back sensation. Her mouth beneath his. Her skin warming under his hands. The way she’d said “please,” like he held something she desperately needed.
He’d almost given it to her.
God, what a fool he was.
The grand entrance of Calborough House appeared through the swirling snow like salvation.
Or damnation. Aaron couldn’t decide which.
“Use the servants’ entrance,” he instructed quietly. “Less chance of being seen.”
Louise paused at the door, and he made the mistake of meeting her eyes. Green fire burned there, hurt and anger and something else that made his chest constrict.
“Of course,” she said. “We wouldn’t want anyone to know.”
She disappeared inside before he could respond.
Know what?
That he’d kissed her? That he’d wanted her with an intensity that terrified him? That stopping had required every ounce of will he possessed?
Aaron entered through the main door, nodding to a surprised footman already preparing for the day. His boots left wet prints on the marble as he climbed to his chambers, each step heavier than the last.
His room felt too warm after the frosty night, too civilized after her brother’s shabby apartment. Aaron stripped off his damp clothes mechanically, but when he lay on his perfectly made bed, sleep proved impossible.
Every time he closed his eyes, he heard Louise saying his name while firelight painted her skin gold. Felt her fingers working at his shirt buttons.
