Whatever control he had left vanished. The bed creaked beneath them as he gathered her close, the rhythm between them building until neither could hold it back. She clung to him, fingers digging into his shoulders, his name slipping from her in a ragged whisper.
His release broke with brutal force. With a rough groan, he withdrew just in time, bracing himself on the mattress beside her as he spilled over her thigh.
As the tension subsided, he looked at her mussed hair and swollen lips and gave silent thanks for the chemise. Bare skin would have finished him.
“Are you all right?” He eased off the bed, took a handkerchief from his coat pocket, and returned to tend to her.
“I’m perfectly fine.” She shifted on the pillow, still flushed from his attentions. Her gaze lingered on him. “A little overwhelmed, but fine.”
“Overwhelmed in a good way?” He tucked himself back into his trousers before he succumbed to his baser instincts.
She smiled. “In a way that might tempt me to repeat it.”
A laugh escaped him. “You’re a dangerous woman. You have a talent for dismantling a man’s defences.”
She looked quite proud of herself. “Have I managed to sneak past your barricade, Mr Hawke?”
“You’ve been raising the portcullis an inch at a time.”
“Who knew I had the strength?”
“Who indeed.”
She had more steel in her than she knew. He only hoped it would prove enough when the guests came for the Masque. Beattie likely had a dozen questions waiting for him at the house, but Dominic had no wish to leave her just yet.
He climbed onto the mattress beside her and lay back against the pillows. Daphne curled against his side, her head settling on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her without thinking.
She traced idle circles on his chest, fingers drifting to where his mother’s ring usually rested. “I went to see the grave and Mrs Buckley so you’d know how it feels to be ignored.”
“It worked.”
“So why did you cast me aside?”
“I didn’t cast you aside.” He thought of Moseley’s cold eyes, the way the man had filed her existence away like a debt to be called in. “I was afraid Moseley would find a use for you if he met you. I’d rather risk your disappointment.”
“You don’t sound sorry.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m not sorry I left you behind.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
“Will you tell me what Mr Moseley said?” Her tone hadcooled, though her hand remained on his chest. “I presume you paid him.”
“Yes. The fifteen thousand your father owed him.”
She shot up on her elbow. “Fifteen thousand? Good heavens. How will I ever repay you?”
His gaze moved over her slowly. “I can think of several ways. Beginning with what Mrs Buckley told you.”
“Not until you tell me what Mr Moseley said about my father. Do you think he killed him?”
“No. He would have used it as leverage to frighten me instead of holding me to ransom.” The bargain still rankled. Dominic disliked being forced to deal on another man’s terms. “Forget I said that.”
She sighed, snatching her hand from his chest. “You need to decide whether you want a partner or a prisoner. Partners don’t keep secrets.”
He reached for her hand, turning it in his palm as though he had no intention of letting her retreat.
“Both our mothers applied to Moseley for a loan to pay a lord who may have been blackmailing them.”
