When he’d danced with her at her come-out ball, his hands had been hot against her dress, and she’d sweat from every pore of her body, barely able to hold his gaze. Graham was like no other man. Which made him hard to read and hard to manage. He challenged her.
Did she want to be challenged? Yes. How boring would life be without it? But was it enough?
Amelia grabbed her brush to run it through her hair. She stared at her reflection, sullen and flushed. She blew out the candle on her dressing table, her reflection now cast in shadows and sat there silent and troubled in the darkness for a long moment.
There was movement behind her, and she stilled, watching the mirror as if what happened there might reveal the future to her and tell her what to do.
It showed Graham slipping into her room, dressed casually in his breeches and shirt, untucked, feet bare. He did not spot her by the dressing table and instead moved toward the bed where her one candle still burned. In the candlelight she saw him frown, finding her bed empty. She bit her lip. This was the perfect opportunity to frighten him.
“I’m over here,” she said quietly. She chose the mature route, the path that might lead to the places her heart and body yearned to go—Graham’s arms.
His head snapped toward her, and he straightened.
“What are you doing?” he asked in a strained whisper.
She waved her brush at him. “What areyoudoing in my room, sir?” She could be mature but still herself, couldn’t she?
He ran a hand through his hair, and she bit back a smile. He seemed flustered, and she enjoyed it. She set her brush down and pivoted to face him on her stool. She lifted her shift to her thighs to roll down her stockings.
He made a small noise and came around the foot of her bed, gripping the post, but no farther. “I came to see if you were all right. I know you are upset.”
She shrugged, her amusement fading. He was coming to check on her because that was the kind of person he was, but that didn’t mean he’d changed his mind about staying. “I can’t force you to remain here. If you want to go, go.”
“You know I don’t want to go. Don’t pretend.”
She yanked her stocking off her foot, and it floated to the floor. He watched it intently.
“Pretending, isn’t that what we’re doing?” she asked sharply. Why was he doing this? He wanted her, but he wanted to leave. What was she supposed to do or feel besides hurt?
“We were,” he said, refocusing on her legs as she rolled down her other stocking. His breathing quickened. “Is that still what you want?”
She wanted him, that was all she knew. Amelia cleared her throat. “Will you still escort me to social functions until my brother is able?”
“I’ll do anything you need me to do.”
Her stomach tightened. Would he? If she begged, would he stay? She’d asked, and he said no, but if she begged him onher hands and knees, would he change his mind? Would he forget about finding a wife and simply be hers without strings attached?
Was that what she wanted? Graham, for herself, always?
Yes.
The realization washed over her body like a sunrise. She closed her eyes and leaned over her leg, forgetting to continue rolling down her stocking. The touch of his hand startled her as he took over, rolling the silk over her foot and tossing it away.
“Graham,” she said, more needy than she’d ever been. She was ready to beg. But she didn’t know what to say to make him stay.
He set his hands on the stool on either side of her hips. “I’m trying to do what is best for both of us. I let things get too far. I don’t want you to think any of this is your fault.”
She sucked in a breath, catching the pain in his eyes. “You feel guilty, is that it? You think you took advantage of a naïve girl.”
“No. It isn’t that simple, Amelia. There is a line I cannot cross, but every day with you, it fades a little more and I don’t want to continue down this path when I know that we won’t arrive at the end together.”
“What does that mean? What path?” She shook her head in confusion.
“The path to marriage. I am not a man who takes a woman to bed carelessly.”
“But you have. I can see you have engaged in a relationship with Julia, and yet you are not married to her. What makes me different from her?”
“You’re different because you mean more to me than Julia ever did. With Julia, neither my heart nor hers was at risk. I did not love her, and I had no intention of loving her.”
