He was not put off. “Allow me to walk you home. I have no carriage as yet, but I do have a sturdy umbrella.”
“That is very kind, but unnecessary.”
“I insist. For Prince Louis’s sake, if not your own. He could be carried away by the wind.” Without waiting for her reply, he strode from the room.
Behind him, through the door he’d left open, he overheard her ask Gerhard, “Is he always like that?”
“Quick to assess the surroundings? Prone to make decisions for everyone around him? Yes, indeed.” Gerhard was enjoying himself immensely, thought Richard as he shrugged on his coat and snatched his hat and umbrella from the hall. But then his friend added, rather graciously, “And also, it infuriates me to admit, most often correct in his judgment. It has saved both our lives several times.”
When he reentered the room, Evangeline had put on her bonnet again and was peering out the windows at the darkening sky, her brow creased in concern. Thunder rumbled overhead.
Ignoring Gerhard’s gloating look, Richard tugged his broad-brimmed hat lower on his head. Evangeline stooped to pick up her pet, and Gerhard fluttered his eyelashes at Richard behind her back.
“We shall have to hurry,” she said, tucking the dog under her arm.
Richard turned his back to Gerhard before stepping outside and opening his umbrella. “Shall we?”
Evangeline’s smile looked a trifle forced, but she nodded once, firmly and decisively. “Yes.”
Chapter 10
He was only a few inches taller than she and made no protest at the brisk pace she set. Their elbows collided a few times until Richard slid his arm beneath hers, to support Louis. The little dog was heavier than he looked, and Evangeline was absurdly touched by this gesture. Louis also seemed to approve, as he began licking Sir Richard’s fingers.
They made it as far as the pond before the first patter of raindrops struck. Evangeline started to hurry, but he slowed. “Do you wish to turn back?”
She looked at him in surprise. “Of course not!”
He met her eyes, then gave a firm nod. His arm around hers tightened, holding her nearer, and they continued. The trees sheltered them fairly well, even as the rain grew steadier, but when they reached the end of the winding path toward her garden, the skies opened.
She gasped, clutching Louis with both arms. Richard’s arm went around her waist, the umbrella over their head doing a poor job of protecting them from the downpour. They had still to cross the meadow, climb the slope, and make their way through the garden, which was already bowed down under the thundering rain.
By the time they reached the glass doors of the conservatory at the back of the house, they were nearly running, and thoroughly drenched. “There you are, my friend,” said Richard, wrenching open the French door and depositing Louis inside. The dog, who had been tucked into Evangeline’s pelisse and sheltered between them, was barely damp. Louis gave himself a shake and trotted off.
Richard gave her a wild grin, reckless and alive with excitement. “I told you we would be wet!”
She laughed, but it faded quickly. He shoved aside his sodden hat to run one hand through his hair. The rambling wisteria had climbed to the roof here and sheltered them from the worst of the deluge, but raindrops ran down his temples, across his lean cheeks, over his wild, reckless mouth.
She put her hand on his chest. Even through the wet layers of wool and linen she could feel the steady thump of his heart. He went still, his gaze sharpened, and then he took her hand. Reverently he tugged off her glove, brushing his lips over her knuckles, then over the pulse in her wrist. Evangeline gulped back a sigh of want. Still holding her hand as gently as he might hold a newborn kitten, he moved her fingers across his cheek, his eyes drifting closed and something like rapture in his expression.
She kissed him.
He tasted of coffee and cinnamon, and he kissed her back tenderly. It was lovely, but Evangeline wasn’t after tender reverence; she wanted the forceful hungry lover who had devoured her four years ago, whose touch she had never forgotten. She caught his shoulders in both hands and pushed him back against the stone wall. Raindrops dislodged from the wisteria showered down on them, but she didn’t care. She shoved her hands under his jacket, reacquainting herself withthe feel of his body, as his hands cupped her jaw and angled her face for a deeper, devastating kiss.
When she came up for air, his arm was around her waist, her fingers were tangled in his wet hair, and both were breathing heavily. For a moment they stared at each other, and Evangeline knew it was her last chance. Step away, go into the house, and never see him again; or fling herself into the abyss.
“I have two conditions,” she began in a low voice. “This must be an affair between equals. Neither of us will have the keeping of the other, nor exclusive right to the other’s company or affections.”
His eyes darkened, but all he said was, “I understand.”
“And the moment either one of us wishes to end it, it will end—calmly, rationally, with no outburst of recrimination or dismay from either. We will both walk away, irrevocably.”
This time he hesitated. Evangeline realized she was clenching her teeth, and made herself take a breath. He was going to make it easy for her, rejecting her conditions...
“I agree,” he said, his voice dark and low. He raised her hand to his lips and murmured against her knuckles, “To anything you demand. You may have me any way you want me, whenever you want me, for as long as you want me.”
Oh God.Her knees went weak as he pressed his mouth to her wrist and traced his tongue over her racing pulse.
“Good,” she managed to say. “I want you now.”
