“Shall we adjourn?” he asked, rising.
Amelia touched his hand with a laugh. “That’s my line, darling.”
He ignored her. He watched Jane stand and saw her sway slightly. She moved unsteadily away from the chair, bumped into the table. Amelia was watching too, wide-eyed and definitely gleeful. “Nick! She’s—”
The earl clapped his hand over Amelia’s mouth before she could utter another word. “Go to the drawing room, Amelia, and await me there,” he said softly.
She stared at him.
He wondered if he should throw her out now, or if he should use her to alleviate some of his own physical distress and then throw her out. He took Jane’s arm. “I’ll see you to your room.”
Jane gazed up at him with those big blue eyes, filled with infatuation. She smiled. It was beautiful and sweet and she was beautiful and sweet and Nick felt the terrible stabbing in his heart. “Awright,” she said, slurring softly.
They started to walk and her hip bumped his. He pretended not to notice. They moved past Amelia, who was red with anger. Jane was very unsteady on her feet. In the doorway she tripped on the Persian rug. The earl instantly did what his instincts had been clamoring for him to do: he swept her up into his arms. She weighed nothing.
She gazed at him.
He pounded up the steps. She was soft and warm and she smelled fresh and sweet. She clung to him. Her hair was spilling from its coif. He felt it tickling the back of his hands, softer than silk. Nick would not look at her. He didn’t dare. Another glimpse of her lovestruck eyes and he would be lost …
He was getting hot. His groin was aching, swelling. Just from the feel of her in his arms … he was in serious trouble.
Not that he would ever touch her.
He nudged open her door with his shoe and laid her atop the white, lacy covering of her bed. As he did, his gaze fell to her face. Her eyes were half closed, lidded with the sensuous look of a woman about to be bedded. She was as aroused from being in his arms as he was excited from carrying her. He was stunned. Slowly her head fell back to the pillows, her darkened gaze on him, lips parted, wet and full. His hands were still beneath her. It was reflexive—his glance roamed down, and he froze. Her bodice had fallen, revealing her breasts.
He couldn’t move. She was fuller than he’d imagined, actually voluptuous for a petite girl, each breast round and high and a perfect handful. Her nipples were the pink of a virgin. Pink and pointed, tiny and tight. She moaned, her head going back, offering him her lovely throat and lovelier breasts.
He wanted to touch her. He didn’t.
She turned her head to look at him, nostrils flared, eyes hot and bright. She lifted a hand, imploring. “Please,” she said throatily.
“Damn,” the earl croaked, leaping up from the bed. He had to get away from her. Because if he didn’t, he would touch her, kiss her, take her.
“Oh, God!” Jane cried, her hand flying to her forehead. “Don’t move like that!” And then she leapt up herself, her face green now, sliding to the floor and staggering to the chamber pot. She began retching.
Desire fled, sympathy and concern welled. Nick found himself beside her, kneeling, supporting her. When she had finished vomiting all the wine, she started to weep.
“Are you in pain?” he asked anxiously. “Let me take you to the bed.”
She shook her head, sobbing.
He thought she was finished, so very, very carefully, he lifted her and carried her to the bed. “Jane, don’t cry,” he ordered helplessly.
“Oh, God, how could I make such a fool of myself …” She rolled onto her stomach.
She kept crying. He wanted to touch her but was afraid to. Not because of desire, for he was now under control. Still, she was just a child, little different from Chad. He ignored the image of her young, ripe breasts that immediately taunted his mind. Shakily he reached out and tangled his hand in her hair. He gasped from the sheer pleasure of it.
“How quaint,” Amelia said through gritted teeth from the doorway.
Nick withdrew his hand as if he’d been burned, standing.
“Are you blushing?” Amelia asked incredulously.
The earl knew he was. He spoke quietly to Jane’s back. “I’ll send up Molly with water and some toast. It will be here on your bed table. You will probably be thirsty and hungry in a few hours.”
There was no reply. She was asleep. The earl turned away, to his mistress, who was waiting.
11
