Phoebe blinked. This was too easy. “All right.”
“Shall we play cards?” Freddie asked.
Ten minutes.
“I’m actually quite tired. I think I’ll just go to bed.”
“Suit yourself,” Freddie said with a shrug and moved on to find Alex, who had drifted back into the drawing room with their father.
“I’ll send someone up to your room with fresh linens,” her mother said.
“Don’t bother the maids with that now,” Phoebe said. “They have enough to do. I’ll be fine. Good night. This was lovely.” She pressed a kiss to her mother’s cheek.
“Thank you for making an effort,” her mother said as she gave her hand a squeeze. “It really does mean so much to me. And your father too.”
Phoebe returned her smile and made her way up the staircase to her old bedroom. She would take just a few minutes to freshen up and then she would slip out to meet Will. It was as if she was living out a fantasy from her younger days. Only now she knew the reality was far, far better.
Will tapped his fingertip against a pane of glass as he waited in Mrs. Atkinson’s greenhouse among her seedlings. The full moon glowing overhead provided just enough light for him to make out his surroundings. It was warm in here and smelled a bit loamy and there was potting soil on his shoes. Not exactly an ideal place for an assignation, but not the worst either.
If she even comes.
He crossed his arms only to start tapping his foot. Why was he so damned nervous anyway? Either Phoebe would meet him or not. And so what if she didn’t? They had already slept together. It wasn’t as though there was any mystery left there.
Liar.
Will let out a huff. Half the time when they were together she drove him absolutely mad. The other half he was simply mad with desire. He had only gotten the smallest taste these last few weeks, and Will needed more. He wanted to search every inch of Phoebe Atkinson, both in body and mind until he knew her soul like he knew his own.
And dammit, he ached for the chance even though the fallout would be hell. That was what this obsession had done to him. All those years spent examining every move, every thought, every feeling, of making the right alliances, the right friends, being seen in the right places with the right people to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that hewasgood enough for his blasted title could be undone in an instant by a wild, reckless girl who didn’t give a damn aboutanyof it.
But at no point over these last weeks had Will actually tried to stop this mad mission of hers. He reprimanded, he scolded, he heartily disapproved, but never anything more beyond that. He had not gone to her parents, nor taken her away somewhere for safekeeping until she came to her senses. Nor had he gone to the authorities. Instead, he encouraged her. Accompanied her. Madeloveto her. Because he liked her relentless determination, even when it put him out of his mind with worry. And he liked who he was while in her company.
No, Will had made plenty of his own choices that led him tothis moment. And there were plenty more that would have led him somewhere else. But he alone decided to come to dinner this evening hoping to see her. And he was the one who had suggested this meeting. Phoebe may have lit the match, but Will held the wick. It was still up to him if the bomb would go off.
Someone tapped on the glass behind him and Will whirled around. His heart pounded harder as Phoebe flashed him a smile and entered. She had changed into a paper-thin ivory wrapper and held a small lamp in her hand. She wore a pair of matching slippers with no stockings and the lacy hem of her nightgown grazed her bare ankles, while her hair hung over her shoulder in a loose braid. Will’s fingers twitched with the unholy urge to tug on it, so he shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. God, he was a wreck.
Phoebe breezed past him and set down the lamp on a worktable. “I didn’t realize you had such an affinity for flowers,” she said with a teasing gleam in her eye. “Mother will be delighted.”
Will pushed away from the wall and walked toward her. He was supposed to return her remark with a quip of his own so they could parry a few times in their usual way.
But not tonight.
Will gripped her waist and pulled her against his chest. “Kiss me,” he growled without any trace of embarrassment. This is what she had done to him: reduced him to pure animal need.
Phoebe’s eyes flashed with surprise in the orange gaslight before softening into another smile edged with affection. “Very well.”
She lifted on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his mouth. It was a kiss of gentle exploration, of tender warmth—and nowhere near enough. After a few searching moments, Will snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her off her feet. He kissed her harder until her lips parted to welcome his demanding tongue. Theydidn’t have time for tenderness. He needed to lose himself in her fire, her sharpness for what little time they were allotted.
She quickly took the lead and met his tongue stroke for stroke. Will grunted as she palmed his stiff cock through the straining fabric of his trousers and he broke the kiss with a gasping smile.
“You’re quite ruthless, you know.”
Phoebe chuckled and leaned closer. “Does that bother you?”
“Absolutely not. I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
Her eyes dimmed slightly just before she looked away. Will opened his mouth to question her reaction, but then she stroked him harder this time, with more urgency.
“Will,” she whispered in a needy tone he had never heard from her before. Whatever thoughts, whatever self-recriminations faded until he could think of nothing but sating her.
