“To hell with the towel,” he muttered.
He closed his mouth over hers.
ChapterEighteen
Drawing a breath, Xenia approached Ethan’s study. She felt unaccountably nervous. She’d last seen him when she’d left his bed and returned to her own room. The image of him on his stomach, a bedsheet draped over the taut curve of his buttocks and his sculpted back rising and falling as he slept, sent a lovely shiver through her.
Last night, he had shown her the difference between swiving and lovemaking. What they’d done together had felt intimate, even the wicked parts. The fact that Ethan didn’t take her virginity, even though she would have given it if they took precautions, demonstrated his respect for her.
In short, Ethan Harrington had been a fantasy come true.
Even the most wondrous dreams suffered in daylight, however, and she felt a frisson of anxiety. What would things be like between her and her aristocratic lover this morning? Obviously, they had to keep up appearances around the other servants. The notion of addressing one another as “my lord” and “Mrs. Wood” felt strange now that they’d made love, but perhaps they’d save endearments for their next rendezvous.
Will there be a next rendezvous?
They’d made no promises. Although she had been the one who’d insisted on a casual affair, the undefined nature of their relationship gnawed at her. She told herself that, with her past, she could not ask for more, and she ought to be satisfied with finding happiness where she could.
That’s the problem with happiness. A taste of it is never enough. One always wants more.
She missed Ethan already. Since she knew his routine, she knew he’d been up for a few hours, and when he made no effort to find her, she came up with an excuse to see him.
She knocked, and when Ethan bid her to enter, she saw that he was meeting with Brunswick.
“Yes, Mrs. Wood?” Ethan asked. “Was there something you wanted?”
He looked and sounded the way he had when they first met. Remote and haughty, like he couldn’t spare her the time of day. The effect was chilling, and her self-confidence wavered.
“I, um, finished organizing the library,” she said haltingly. “I thought you might want to take a look. When you have time.”
“I have time now.”
They left the study, Ethan stalking behind her. They didn’t have far to go, but the tension between them made it feel like miles. Panic played with her thoughts, twisting and tying them into knots.
Does he regret last night? Is that why he is acting distant? Have I done something wrong… Odds bodkins, what if he hates what I’ve done with the library?
As they reached their destination, Xenia whipped around and barred the door.
“I have changed my mind,” she said. “The library isn’t ready to be seen.”
“I am sure it’s fine.”
While his words were terse, his eyes had a familiar, brooding look.
“Are you…” She searched for the right words. “Is everything all right?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
He was definitely grumpy.
Because he wishes he hadn’t made love to me?
Pain seized her, but if he had changed his mind about her, she had to know.
She looked both ways down the corridor before whispering, “Is this because of last night? Do you…do you regret what we did?”
He drew his brows together. “No.”
“Then why are you cranky?”
