“Where is he now, then? I rarely see you together.”
“He is hard at work.”
“At this hour?”
“Cromwell is a hard master.”
“No doubt. And do you love him? Desire him?”
“Enough, Rafe.”
“Because I don’t see the passion in you, not for him, and I have observed you. You don’t feel for him what you felt for me. What you still feel for me!”
And without warning, he took her face in his hands and pressed his lips upon hers.
Thomasin staggered, taken by surprise, but Rafe held her firm, his kiss both gentle and sensuous. It did take her back to their former passion, as he had hoped, awakening something inside her that had been dormant. She knew she should push him away, break off this contact that she had been running from, but the sensation of his mouth was irresistible. She found him addictive.
He put his arms around her and pulled her close, and she felt herself responding. That dizzying, light-headed feeling stole over her as she relaxed into his embrace.
To her annoyance, it was Rafe who broke away first. Still holding her in his arms, he looked down into her face. “There, I knew it. Nothing can alter the desire we feel for each other.”
“No.” She pushed him away. “That should not have happened.”
“Should, Thomasin? Should? According to who? We desire each other. Let’s be honest about it.”
“Honest? Would you make an honest woman out of me?”
“Why must you always be negative? Admit that you enjoyed that as much as I did.”
“It is not negativity, it is the reality for women. You know where this will lead. I would bear an illegitimate child, while you would be free to walk away at any time.”
“Is that what you think of me? That I would not do the right thing?”
“If you wished to do the right thing, you would have done it, without being forced into the situation.”
“Why must you complicate this? Come here, kiss me again. Just submit to those feelings.”
He leaned forwards to try and reach her again, but she moved past him.
“No, Rafe, we must not!”
“Don’t tell me you are happy with that Venetian. Does he treat you well?”
Thomasin did not reply.
Rafe moved closer again, his mouth on her forehead. “We are alone here, undisturbed with this bed waiting for us. How many times have we longed for a moment like this?”
“No. The queen is expecting me.”
“Tell me you don’t want to. Tell me that and I will stop.”
But in that moment, Thomasin realised she could say no such thing. She did desire Rafe; he did arouse those feelings in her as no other man had, against her better judgement. But he had proved himself cruel and fickle in the past, and she knew better than to submit to a moment of desire.
With one final effort, she pushed past Rafe and into the main chamber.
“There, you cannot say it!” he said triumphantly, following her. “You desire me still. Stop fighting it, Thomasin!”
But she had reached the outer door and was racing away, without looking back. As she turned the corner, slowing her pace, the uncomfortable thought arose in Thomasin’s mind: just how long could she keep running from this?
