She cleared her throat nervously. “There is but one bed.”
“I will sleep on the floor in front of the fire,” he offered.
Her cheeks colored prettily, and she glanced away for a moment. Then taking a deep breath, she said, “We slept with one another last night with no mishaps. Surely this is no different?”
“Well, it isn’t, I suppose, but…” His voice trailed off as he was unsure of what further to say.
She drew herself up and squared her shoulders. “I am confident that we can share the bed without dissolving into a puddle of impropriety. I daresay we are so far beyond the bounds that no one should even blink an eye at this stage. Besides, who is to see us?”
She had a solid point. Propriety was a foregone notion at this point, but it wasn’t what he worried about anyway. He was more concerned with how he could possibly spend another night in such close proximity to her and not pull the clothing from her delectable body and make love to her as he had never made love to a woman.
With an inward groan, he merely nodded and prepared himself for the longest night of his two and thirty years.
Chapter Eleven
Long after Merrick’s soft breathing filled the room, Isabella lay awake, scooted as far to the edge of the bed as she could be without tumbling to the floor.
She was tired, exhausted, but every time she closed her eyes, she relived his kiss with alarming detail. Even now she shivered when imagining his lips on hers. The tingling shock that raced down her spine. How she forgot everything else in the shadow of his touch.
Her reaction to him was dangerous and foolish. If she continued behaving like an errant schoolgirl, she would compromise her entire objective.
But deep within was a woman who was tired of being alone against the world. A woman who wanted very badly to be held and told everything would be all right. And never before had she met a man who made her want to lay everything at his feet. Until now.
An impossible match at impossible odds. Deep sadness, different than the oppressive grief that had plagued her for so long, weighed down upon her. Sadness that her life was no longer hers and her wishes no longer mattered. Any choice she had was snatched away in the terrible instant her parents had been killed. Now her future belonged to Leaudor and to its people. There was no room in her life for moments of passing fancy.
She tossed restlessly for the hundredth time since she and Merrick had retired to bed. In the midst of her turning, his arms came out to steady her. They wrapped solidly around her and pulled her up close to him.
“Sleep,” he murmured.
She melted into his warmth as her back nestled into the curve of his body. A deep sigh of contentment rocked her. For a few stolen moments, she wouldn’t think of the future. For now, she would take the comfort he offered. She would not dwell on when they would part.
His hand rested precariously close to her breast, and the skin under his fingers burned with awareness. His heat radiated through her body rendering the fire a non-necessity.
Not pondering the rightness or the wisdom of her actions, she turned once more to face him and snuggled tightly against him, melding her body in a perfect fit to his.
Was it her imagination or did his heart start beating faster? She snaked her arm over his side and pulled him even closer. Yawning broadly, she nestled her cheek against his firm chest and closed her eyes.
* * *
Simon’s eyes flew open and darted hastily around the room. In his arms, Isabella slept soundly, but something nagged at him. A feeling of foreboding settled over him. Something had awakened him, but damned if he knew what. And then he heard it. The creaking of the floor, barely discernible, but there it was.
He sat up, torn as to whether he should wake Isabella. As much as he hated to disturb her, his instincts were rarely wrong.
“Isabella,” he whispered urgently, shaking her.
She came awake at once, her eyes immediately alert. She sat up abruptly. “What is it?”
“Get dressed,” he directed. “Someone is outside our door. We may have to resort to your window exit.”
Her feet hit the floor almost silently as she flew to collect her clothing. Not concerned at all for modesty, she thrust her legs into her breeches, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her shapely calves.
He pulled on his shirt and quickly yanked on his boots. Holding a finger to his lips, he gestured her toward the window. “Take a look and see if anyone is watching,” he whispered. “I’m going to glance down the hall.”
She caught his arm as he moved past her. “Be careful.” She brushed against him for a brief moment then hurried to the window.
As his hand curled around the knob, Isabella whispered urgently from the window. “There are at least two men standing outside.”
He turned to look at her, his hand still on the door handle. “We should give thought to the window exit you’re so fond of.”
