Her lustrous dark hair flowed loose over her shoulders and her bare toes were pink and perfect beneath the hem of the robe.The intimacy of the sight stunned Thorne momentarily.
He marshaled his wits when she whisper-shouted, “Did anyone see you?”
“No,” Thorne said, pitching his voice low and rough, though he couldn’t resist sketching an elegant bow.The Gentle Rogue had a reputation for panache, after all.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she said urgently.“There is a man looking for you, to arrest you?—”
Thorne shrugged.“I already know about him.There’s always someone looking.Don’t worry, he’ll never even get close.”
“You don’t understand.This man, Sir Colin Semple, is an agent of the Crown.He knows about us.That we’ve been in contact.”
“In contact,” Thorne repeated, amused.“Is that what we are?”
“You’re not taking this seriously.This man could be a threat to you?—”
“You’re sweet to be concerned.”Thorne drank in the sight of Lucy in the moonlight, near to wringing her hands because she cared what happened to him.His chest warmed.
“I can’t tell if it’s arrogance or…” Lucy gave an exasperated huff.“No, I take it back.It’s definitely arrogance.”
He took a step closer and watched the quick hitch in her breath.“Do you want me to go?”
She struggled for a moment, then burst out, “No.But I didn’t think you would come.I mean, I suppose I’m not used to men who do what they say they will.”
The downward turn of her lips stabbed at Thorne’s undefended guts.She was talking about him.Thornecliff.
Well, that’s what he was here for.To right (some of) his wrongs by giving her what she wanted: a fantasy come to life.
And when it was done, he would walk away.And so would she—because The Gentle Rogue would hang up his mask for good and disappear.
This Sir Colin from the Home Office sniffing around was the final straw.The reasons Thorne had started this highwayman lark so many years ago hadn’t changed, but they had evolved.He no longer needed the income from the purses he took, now that his investments had begun to pay off.All his little projects were proceeding smoothly these days.Almost boringly so.
He would need another outlet soon, he supposed.Something dangerous, forbidden or exciting enough to see him through the long nights.
Standing here, watching Lucy as she watched him in return, it was hard to imagine a moment when he might need help staving off sleep.He’d never felt so awake, so aware, soelectrifiedby life’s possibilities.
“You held up your end of our deal,” he rasped.“I read the papers.‘Lady L--- L--- seen on the arm of the Duke of T---, all over Town.’”
“That’s right.”Her small, pointed chin lifted.“As you specified.”
“And did you learn anything from the experience?”he couldn’t help but ask, already knowing he would hate the answer.“Still think you’d rather throw yourself away on a masked highwayman than hobnob with a duke?”
Something flickered across her face, too fast for him to read, or maybe it was only a trick of the moonlight because her voice was steady when she replied, “I didn’t need two weeks to know that particular duke’s company was enough to put me off dukes forever.All I want is you.”
That’s not what you said earlier, a voice snarled in his head, but Thorne bit it back.That was what he got for torturing himself with the question in the first place.
Telling himself it didn’t matter that she wanted The Gentle Rogue, who was also him, wasn’t as helpful as he would have wished.
Are you going to cry about it?The cool, dispassionate voice in his head was his uncle’s.Pull yourself together.She wants the man standing before her, and you are here to give her what she wants.
Your pathetic desires need not enter into it.
Thorne had heard a variation on that so often while growing up that he had made something of a career out of indulging his own desires as an adult.But he found he had just enough of that scrawny, determined, desperate-to-please boy left inside to be able to reject the habits of a decade…for her.
He prowled closer, darkly amused by the way she wobbled, as though her instincts told her to back away before her chin went up again and she held her ground.Beneath her wrapper, those delectable little breasts were rising and falling rapidly with the swift intake of her breaths.
“One night,” he whispered when he was close enough to touch her.A lock of hair fell across her forehead.There was no power on earth that could have stopped him from reaching up to smooth it back.She was everything soft and silky under his rough fingertips.“One night is all I can promise you.”
He expected an argument—when did Lucy not fight for what she wanted?—but after a brief moment, she gave a small smile and said, “If that’s what you’re offering, I suppose I must be content with that.After all…”
