But to think that was to diminish what had just occurred between them. And somehow he didn’t want to do that, even though perhaps he should. Perhaps he should pretend it away and make it something casual and without true meaning.
“They want me to stop running around London with you,” he said.
She gave no response for a moment. When he glanced at her face in the firelight, there was no indication of what she felt about that fact. She didn’t move, she didn’t change anything about her body or expression. In fact, she was entirely blank, like the statement made no difference one way or another.
“Well, you and I have made no agreements,” she said at last. “And if you decide to bow to their requirements, I could do nothing but understand. After all, I’ll need to make my own arrangements soon enough. You’ll be leaving to return to America in a few weeks anyway.”
He lifted his head. “You know my schedule? Is that how far your research goes?”
“I was told it, I didn’t seek it. But whatever the timeline, this is temporary, isn’t it? We knew that from the start.”
Temporary. His entire life felt temporary sometimes. And yet the fact of it stung this time. He pushed to his feet and fastened his trousers, then slung on his shirt and gathered the rest of his clothing. “You’re right, of course. But I’m not ready for it to end just yet.”
She sat up on her elbows, watching him, so utterly gorgeous when she was disheveled from sex. Then she nodded. “Well, I’m here as long as you’d like me to be, Silas. As long as you need me.”
He held out a hand, which she took and allowed him to help her to her feet. He pulled her in for a kiss, which she also allowed without hesitation. But she also made no move to keep him against her when he pulled away.
“Thank you for this, Arabella. It did help,” he said.
“I’m glad.” She smiled at him, but he noted it didn’t entirely reach her eyes. “Goodnight, Silas.”
“Goodnight,” he repeated, and then he left her parlor to go back into the night, feeling both better and somehow worse after the encounter.
And feeling forever confused about what exactly this woman was and how she could spin him around so easily.
* * *
Arabella watched from her window as Silas swung up onto his mount. He was all sleek and easy strength, a physical specimen unlike any other lover she’d ever had. He urged the animal forward and rode away from her home.
She ducked her head. In her heart, she knew it wasn’t his physical prowess that made him different, not truly. No, the difference with him was something much more powerful and so much worse.
She didn’twantto be shaken to her core by a man. That wasn’t something one did and remained successful as a courtesan, she’d seen that firsthand with friends and rivals. And yet Silas Windham did shake her. Not just body with his wicked, wild touch, but he touched her heart and mind, too. She thought of him too much, wanted to protect him too much, wanted to ask him for protection too, and not the kind that usually went along with arrangements between her and lovers.
Those were all barriers she couldn’t allow him to pass, just as she didn’t allowanyman to pass them. She would stop now. Any meeting between them would be light and meaningless and fun, just as they’d promised from the beginning.
And since he would be gone soon, perhaps it was also time to put her focus back on her own future. The one that would not, could not, ever include Silas Windham.
CHAPTER13
In the three days after the encounter in her parlor, Arabella had somehow stuck to her promise to herself. She and Silas had met every day. They never discussed the painful subjects that had been brought up that powerful night. Instead, they attended a public fete in Hyde Park and danced to the music there under the stars. They went to yet another hell and played cards until dawn. They rode together and laughed together and after it was all done, they made love in carriages and against walls and at his home.
It was light and airy and the exchanges were completely without meaning. Or at least that was what she told herself. It was evident he was trying just as hard as she was to maintain the connection, at least in some way, but she felt their bond pulling apart.
Perhaps he had decided to eventually follow his family’s edict that he separate from her. That this was the last hurrah. She could understand why. She wasn’t appropriate, even as courtesans went. That was part of her charm, but also part of her poison.
She couldn’t be upset about it either way. Or at least that’s what she reminded herself over and over when she felt empty after they parted. This man wasn’t her future, he was a lark. A purging of desire that had clung to her for years. He would leave, she would file him away with all her other former lovers. When she thought of him, she would smile and that would be enough.
It had to be.
She drew a breath and refocused for what felt like the tenth time on the room around her. She’d accepted an invitation to a gathering hosted by a courtesan, Gretchen Loveland, and her current protector, the Earl of Shrewton, and this was a hunting ground. Not a place to spiral off into weak and pointless emotion.
She sipped her drink and smiled across the room at one of the unattached gentlemen who was watching her. There were no small number to choose from. All of them were potentials for the next man who would hang her on his arm, take her to his bed, and ultimately, if she bargained correctly, fill her coffers a little further. Make her life easier.
She focused on that and batted her eyelashes a little to draw one of the interested parties near. Her come-hither expression was excellent bait for she didn’t only bring him, but two other gentlemen to her side. With all her might she tried to focus on them, not stare into her drink, pondering Silas.
No, shewouldn’tthink of Silas.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” she said with a small nod of her head as the three men reached her almost in unison. They gave each other little glares, like stags competing for a mate who weren’t quite ready to come to actual blows yet. It likely wouldn’t come to that. Though there had been courtesans who had experienced it. Men really were so endlessly predictable.
