"If you like, I'll give you one of my nightgowns, though you'll look like a snake about to shed its skin." After digging out a nightgown, he bowed politely,thenleft.
She undressed and washed, then donned the garment. He was right about the size; it was enormous on her. But the fine lawn fabric was soft against her skin, making her think wickedthoughts.
Everything made her think wickedthoughts.
She dropped a pillow on the floor, then added a couple of blankets from the chest. The pine planks didn't look particularly comfortable, but that was hisproblem.
After braiding her hair into a long plait, she slid into the bed and pulled the covers over her head. In the darkness, the unreality of her situation washed over her and her happiness leached away. The handsome, dashing man she loved wanted to marry her. It was a romantic dreamcometrue.
Who would have thought that fulfillment of a dream could make one feel sowretched?
* * *
Dominick allowedRoxanne time to settle herself, then quietly entered the bedroom. She was only a gentle mound beneath the bedcovers with not so much as a single auburn curl showing. He guessed that she was only pretending to sleep, but he didn't challenge that. After a lifetime of maidenly modesty, she was entitled to be nervous at having himsonear.
Certainly her proximity unsettled him. How much would she protest if he joined her in the bed? His blood quickened. Though her mind might be doubtful, her body had welcomed his touch. It might take only a few kisses to persuade her to give him what he had dreamed of for adecade.
He was halfway to the bed before he managed to stop himself. It was bad enough that he was abducting her. He could not coerce her into an intimacy for which she was not yetready.
Suppressing a sigh, he made up a pallet on the floor. He was unlikely to sleep much, so there was no chance she could sneak out without hisknowledge.
In deference to his roommate's innocence, he donned one of his seldom-worn nightshirts. Then he blew out the candle, wrapped himself in the blankets, and tried to find a comfortable position. He would rather be in the bed ... but it was still heaven to doze off to the sound of Roxanne's gentlebreathing.
Chapter8
Dominick cameawake with a start and lay still for a moment, wondering what had disturbed him. The moon had risen and cool, silvery light illuminated the room. But there was something wrong with thesounds.
After a moment he realized that Roxanne's breathing had changed. No longer smooth, it had become a series offaintsobs.
Stricken, he got to his feet and perched on the edge of the bed. Softly he asked, "What's wrong, my darlingvixen?"
"Nothing." She made a choked sound. "Everything!"
He lay down on the bed and gathered her into his arms. Her small, curving body trembled as she hid her face against hisshoulder.
"Why did you have to come back?" she said through her tears. "My life wasn't very interesting, but I wasn't miserable. Now I feel like a child pressing my nose to the window of a candy shop, yearning for something I canneverhave."
"What do youyearnfor?"
"F-for love, for happiness, for laughter." She swallowed convulsively. "Foryou."
"Since you already have me, why are you crying?" he murmured as he smoothed back loosened tendrils of her hair. "I love you. I want to marry you and devote the rest of my life to pleasing you. Why is that such a terribleprospect?"
She began to cry harder. "How can I trust you?" she said haltingly. "You left me once. I'm a very ordinary woman. Once you realize that, you'll leave meagain."
He winced. No matter how noble his reasons, he had left her. And once trust was gone, how could it beregained?
Perhaps if she understood why he loved her, she might start to believe in him. "Do you remember the first timewemet?"
She gave a small hiccup. "Of course. I was out riding. You were looking for the ruined Roman villa near Maybourne and became lost and wandered onto our land. On that black horse of yours, I thought you looked like a magical druidprince."
He pressed a kiss against her temples. "You never toldmethat."
With a touch of her usual tartness, she said, "You already had quite a good enough opinion ofyourself."
He shook his head. "Not really. It's hard to have a good self-opinion when everyone is convinced that one is going to the devil. My father had gone that way, and it was universally assumed that since I resembled him, I was equally damned. In some circles I was known as the Devil's Spawn." He had meant the words to sound light, but they came out edged withregret.
By her stillness, Roxanne had noticed. "Was your fatherthatbad?"
