Nothing.
He tapped again. He didn’t wish to disturb Serena. She needed her strength to travel. It was imperative they leave the next day. And he wouldnotbe leaving Rebecca behind. The idea was unthinkable.
Again, no response. He would have to risk a sound scolding. Quietly pushing down the latch, he peered inside. The smell was rank. Serena slept peacefully. Rebecca, too, as indicated by the night clothes resting slack in her hold. Her position did not appear all that comfortable.
He shook his head and moved inside the small room. He placed a hand to the maid’s head and, to his relief, found her skin cool to the touch. He went to the window and cracked it just so. Even should the rain come in, it wouldn’t reach her sick bed. It would, however, drench Rebecca.
He twisted around and touched Rebecca’s shoulder. Still no response, there again reassuring him she was not an apparition conjured from the stars. He shook her lightly and was unsurprised to find she slept like the dead. Lady warriors worked hard during their waking hours.
She certainly couldn’t stay like that all night. There was nothing for it.He slipped one arm beneath her knees, the other, he wrapped along her shoulders and lifted her. She weighed but a feather for an Amazon. Her only response was her snub-nose burrowing in his shoulder like a kitten, worn out after a long and playful day. Clearly, she’d been too exhausted to change into the silk night rail and wrap she clutched, sadly hiding his view of her lovely bosom. Intriguing as it was to see her eyes flash fire, this quiet, sleeping side of her showed a vulnerability most others would not be privy to. He certainly hadn’t—before now. In the light of day, her Amazonian nature dominated every aspect of the generous spirit he was fast learning she possessed.
How was it she felt so right in his arms? Just the thought of her standing up to that villain in St. James Park turned his blood to ice.
Sebastian carried her to the outer chamber and laid her on the bed. The minute her body touched the mattress, she rolled away from him, never stirring from her slumber, leaving him staring at the back of her gown. Of course. He’d forgotten how a woman’s dress required assistance to get in and out of.
He wasn’t about to touch her. That way lay a danger he was not willing to attempt lest he not stop at just loosening. He rubbed the palm of his hand over the back of his neck. It was damp. He shrugged out of his coat and waistcoat and loosened his cravat, then made his way around the chamber, dousing candles. After a moment, he stretched out on the settee with his feet hanging over the edge and let the patter of the rain hitting the windows lull him into a light slumber.
Sixteen
A sound startled Rebecca from a deep sleep. The first one she’d had in a week. Maybe longer. Her surroundings were dark, and it took a minute to remember she was at an inn on the way to London. She could barely breathe from the constriction of her corset. Why was she still in her clothes? She moved her hand over the coverlet and found her night rail. And her wrap. And the… mattress.
What had woken her? And why wasshein the bed? The last she remembered she’d sat down next to Serena. She put a hand to her aching head. She should feel rested but her pulse was beating too erratically.
A small snore split the air from near the hearth. That’s what had wakened her. Sebastian must be sleeping on the settee.Good heavens,the Duke of Ryleigh was asleep on the settee. That couldn’t be very comfortable for a man of his size.
She tried to figure out why it was so unusually quiet—and it hit her. The rain had stopped. She wasn’t certain how she came to be in the bed, but one could certainly take an educated guess. Sebastian had deposited her there.
She scooted from the bed and got tangled up in her skirts or in the curtains. She couldn’t tell which. “Oof. Blast it,” she muffled. Dust went up her nose and set her in a sneezing fit. Seconds later, she was spinning about and flailing and caught by one grumpy duke.
“Is there a problem?” he groused.
His white shirt glowed in the night. No coat. No waistcoat. No cravat. She barely kept from gasping. The hint of pure masculinity drifted to her. “I-I—” Another sneeze took her.
“Lady Rebecca, please. We need rest. We have a very long day tomorrow.”
Oh, the, oh-so-suffering. “Youtry sleeping in a corset where you can hardly breathe, sir, and see how you like it,” she snapped.
She was quickly spun about and unlaced, her bodice slipping forward before she could launch another complaint. Her hands shot up to hold her dress in place.
“Perhaps that will help.” His whispered words stirred the hair on her neck, icy bumps lifted and skittered down the length of her spine. She couldn’t move. His hands settled on the upper portion of her arms. He leaned in and… and teased the column of her neck with his nose. “You’re so irresistible. I can hardly fathom the notion.”
“No,” she whispered back. “No. You’re wrong. I’m not irresistible.”
He turned her around, his lips a mere inch from hers. “Oh, but you are.” His lips brushed hers. Just a feathery stroke. “I’ve tasted you twice now and I vow I have not had my fill.”
This was so wrong. Oh, but he was delicious. Her fingers clenched her dress.
His head angled and his lips begged. She parted hers and let him in. His tongue tangled with hers, and it was as if lightning had found a crack in the façade and hit one of her main arteries. She didn’t know which one; she had no such knowledge. She only knew she was drowning with no hope for air and he was her lifeline. His arms circled her back, pressed her into his chest, his—
His kiss grew fevered. As if he had no hope for air either. He moved between her legs, walked her back to the bed, until the backs of her knees hit the edge. He clasped her wrists and stood back, allowing her dress to slip down. He smoothed his hands back up past her wrists and slid her gloves off, letting everything land in a heap at their feet. She gasped but his mouth found hers again. Raging fire smoldered through her veins, threatening her usual formidable will. Her knees gave way and she landed on the bed, breaking his hold on her lips. A plop echoed in the chamber, their breaths harsh in the otherwise quiet.
He leaned over her, arms bracketing her until she was lying back, resting on her elbows. “You tempt me to sin, Lady Rebecca.”
The words coming out of that lush mouth of his might as well have been Arabic for all her ability to understand. “W-what?”
His finger stroked between her breasts. Even through her chemise the very spot singed. She could almost detect the smell of fire. Hot, molten lava. He moved his finger down. He lowered his head, and his lips touched the exposed skin. She flinched. Shocks of current spread to different points of her body: her nipples, her nape, the hot core of her center where a particularly hard, oblong part of his anatomy throbbed against her. A moan born of need escaped her. She shivered, hot then cold then hot again.
“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now?” His breath steamed over her breast.
