Her dreams were a swathe of mist and old memories; Ash’s face swirling before her again, the boy’s white hair and bright eyes, so innocent and kind, faded into Dorian’s hard gaze and stern jaw.
Her heart lurched. Something did not feel right here. The two had nothing in common.
Then, something miraculous happened. Ash opened his mouth and whispered, “Evelina…”
“Ash…” she mumbled.
He said her name again. “Evelina. Wake up.”
Confused, she reached out to touch Ash… but her hand met skin. Warm skin. His voice came again. “Wake up, Evelina.”
Her eyes peeled open—very heavily—and she saw that her hand was on Dorian’s cheek. As her gaze was hazy, she couldn’t discern the precise color of his dark and heavy-lidded eyes. The lower half of his face was chiseled, his jaw strong and firm, an intriguing contrast to the fullness of his lips.
“Dorian…?”
His face seemed to fall. “Good god, woman, how many bottles of wine have you had tonight?”
“Not—not much,” she grumbled, trying to rise but immediately being pressed back down to the bed. “Maybe three glasses… perhaps five.”
Something close to sympathy—or was that pity?—crossed his face.
“That’s it.” He flicked the bedsheets off her, then slid his hands under her back and knees before lifting her. “You are sleeping in my bed today. I cannot risk you getting sick tonight with no help.”
The sudden movement had her grabbing at his arm to settle herself, and her eyes suddenly went dark as he crossed the little room in between.
Vaguely, she felt him arrive in his chamber, before drawing the bedcovers back, as he gently laid her down on his bed. It was a tad firmer than she would have liked, but the pillows held the same scent she had found on Dorian: sandalwood and clean water.
The fire across the room was bright enough for her to see him. He was in his shirtsleeves; his silk cravat was open around histhroat, and his forest green waistcoat fit like it had been sewn onto his lean torso.
She watched blearily as he disrobed, dropping the silk cloth on a chair before unbuttoning the waistcoat. Her breath hitched when he flexed his shoulders and pulled off his shirt. Her fingertips itched to trail over his granite-hard chest, his corrugated abdomen, and steel-like shoulders.
“…Gadz,” she whispered.
His eyes gleamed up at her as he removed his boots and undid his breeches. She kept her eyes on his chest as he tugged on a loose pair of trousers.
He slid in beside her and gave her a teasing eye. “Not what you expected?”
“No,” she reached out and laid a hand on his skin. Having never touched a naked male chest before, she hadn’t known what to expect.
The combination of hair-dusted skin and flexing muscle filled her with wonder. Marveling, she ran her fingers up the lean ridges of his abdomen to the powerful slabs of his heaving pectorals.
She squirmed, her mind still fuzzy. What was she supposed to do next? What would he do to her? Remembering his salacioustouch, she searched out his nipple with her fingertips. She circled the flat nub, caressing him as he’d caressed her.
He grabbed her hand. “Do not start something you cannot finish, Evelina.”
His rough words left her in a stunned whisper. Dorian’s gaze was heavy and artlessly seductive, not with effort but with an unpretentious, shadowy sensuality.
“I’m… sorry…” she whispered.
“Don’t be sorry,” he coaxed, while pulling her into his side and higher on a pillow. “Now, care to tell me what was going through your mind as you drank yourself into a wheelbarrow?”
“You were late to dinner…” she whispered, her side plastered against his hard form. Her cheek rested against his firm chest, feeling the consistent rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
He let out a long breath. “I know, and I apologize. There was a very crucial meeting I had to take, and I suppose I did not mind the time as I should have. It will not happen again, I give you my word.”
His heat permeated through her, his spicy musk filling her nostrils. She was all too aware that his state of undress matched hers: only his thin trousers, her stocking-clad leg, and her dainty nightgown separated their skin.
“You promise?” she murmured.
