“But here I am,” Laura said inconsequentially.
“Yes,” he said slowly. “Here you are.” He ran a finger along the collar of her dressing gown lingering above the channel between her breasts. “And you in your night-rail.”
“Mm.” Her blue eyes darkened with desire, pinned him, as his good intentions threatened to crumble.
He took the book from her and tossed it onto a table. Then he pulled her slowly toward him, his hands on the small of her back until they touched chest to hip. Until his hard cock pressed against her.
Laura’s eyes widened, but she didn’t move away.
A moment passed between them. He was acutely conscious of her unfettered breasts in her night attire, pressed against him. He fought to contain his raging emotions while his body clamored to take her to bed, and he feared his mind and his noble intentions were losing the fight.
She seemed so unaware of the effect she had on him. He was more convinced than ever Laura was a virgin.If I had known, he thought,would I have resisted the temptation to bring her here? No, he would have done it anyway. Even if this was all there was. It seemed so right, he and Laura. Had done so from the moment he’d met her. And yet they were not lovers, and if he kept to the promise he’d made to himself, they never would be. But it was difficult, and growing more so. He should send her to her bedchamber. But perhaps not yet…
His mouth covered hers. She raised her hands to his shoulders and her sweet, feminine scent enveloped him, threatening his decision to write to her brother immediately. He saw no reason why they couldn’t enjoy each other’s company for a day or two. Taking her hand, he drew her over to the sofa.
Seated beside her, he raised the thick rope of dark-blonde hair to breathe in the scent of violets, wanting to unravel it, and undress her. To see her naked, her tresses adorning her curves like Botticelli’s painting of the goddess of love and beauty,The Birth of Venus.
Heaven help him, he had to taste her. He’d at least allow himself that. “Sweetheart.” He pulled her onto his lap. She came willingly, coiling her arms around his neck, and he kissed the velvety skin of her neck, the tender sweet spot beneath her ear, and with a sharp intake of breath claimed her lips. His mouth toyed at the seam of her mouth, then entered the dance with her tongue.
Laura moaned, her fingers tugging his hair. Brendan eased away the dressing gown to expose the creamy rise of her breasts and sucked a nipple through the cloth.
She wiggled on his lap, making him patently aware of how little fabric stood between her soft body and his demanding cock. In one breathless moment, he could have what he fervently desired. And he doubted Laura would stop him.
“Oh, that feels so…”
This wasn’t going to happen, not if he wished to look at himself in the mirror tomorrow. He moved her off his lap and put some much-needed distance between them. “You should go to bed, Laura. Rest your ankle.”
Laura’s eyes glazed with desire, settled on the bulge in his trousers. He swiftly turned away. He must tell her now! And write to Netterfield in the morning.
“I am sending a note to your brother to come get you,” he said, dragging out the words reluctantly.
Laura’s eyes widened. “Have I done something wrong?”
“No, of course not.” He raked his hands through his hair. “I believe it’s best for you, that’s all. If you leave before things go too far between us.”
Laura stared at him, surprise in her eyes. “If that is your wish, Debnam—my lord,” she said crisply.
“Tomorrow after breakfast, we might go for a drive if the weather is fine. Didn’t I promise you we could visit the harbor?”
“Yes, I believe you did,” she murmured. She turned away and briskly gathered up the books from the table. “But I shan’t hold you to it.”
Aware he’d hurt her feelings, he held out his hand to help her up.
That dashed harbor. Right now, he could only think of one thing: Taking her to his bedchamber and loving her until dawn.
“I shall go up alone. Good night.”
Laura slipped out the door.
There should have been some kind of medal awarded to him for resisting her.
Chapter Seven
Laura knew Debnamdidn’t really want to send her away. She spent another sleepless night confused and uneasy about what she wanted, and what her future now held for her. Noticing the dark shadows beneath her eyes as she brushed her hair, she sighed. Would he do as he’d promised and summon Robert? How long before her brother arrived? When she’d first come here, she would have been relieved to be sent home. But now, knowing what she did about the earl changed everything. She thought over the few glimpses he had given her into his life—his disinterest in his home, being shut away from society. Even in London, he was reclusive. Wasn’t that why they called him the “Phantom Earl”? His reluctance to name his horses, and his grim acceptance he would never marry and have children, reinforced her opinion that he was a wounded soul, and not the careless rake she’d first thought him to be.
Perhaps he didn’t know himself what he wanted from her. Not marriage. But surely not just a passionate affair, which he could easily have in London with the company of whichever sort of woman he fancied. It remained unclear why he had invited her here. And until it was, she wanted to stay, while accepting she must leave him when the time came and never see him again.
Her future ceased to matter. It was this moment that was important. She believed she was here for a reason. Call it fate, or pure foolishness, but she couldn’t dismiss it.
