Her hands flexed by her sides involuntarily.
“That is most fortunate, Lady Caroline. But we must talk. I’m flattered by, uh, your visit last night, any man would be, but I can’t help thinking you imposed a dreadful risk on yourself and on me.”
She had not thought of that. How she had been puttinghimin danger. She had only thought of herself.
But she could not say she was sorry. Literally, she could not. The sibilance ofsorrywould reveal her lisp and likely induce her stutter.
He knew who she was now, but he still didn’t knowwhatshe was. And she must make sure he never did. She wanted to stay hislovely girl. Not deformed, not slow-witted, not evil, not cursed. She didn’t know why she cared since she would never see him again. But still she wanted to belovelyfor him. And for herself.
“I r-regret that,” she said carefully.
He took several steps toward her and seized both her hands.
“I hope you don’t regret everything about last night. Our beautiful night together.”
He raised her hands to his mouth, to those full, almost-pouting lips, and kissed the back of each one. She trembled at his touch. What power her own desire had over her.
“No,” she got out.
“And if you ever come to London where we might repeat our encounter under safer circumstances, I would like that very much indeed, Lady Caroline.”
That was impossible. She took her hands out of his. “No.”
His hazel eyes—which had been sparkling mischievously just a moment ago—now took on a look of hurt.
“I see. You think once with me was enough for you, eh? Well, then you won’t be surprised to hear there are a large number of other women who are just like you. I hold onto the notion it’s because they worry I might quickly ruin them for anybody else, but I suppose some other detraction might exist. But if you gave me another chance, I could—”
She bristled at his mention of a large number of other women. She knew he was a rake. Did he have to rub it in? But it was unfair to allow him think she was disappointed by anything that had happened between them last night. She had been let down by nothing except that he had fallen asleep when she had wanted to couple again. But she had no idea how to stem his flow of words. No idea how to express the very complex sentimentI liked fucking you very much, but I won’t be doing it again.
So she kissed him. And she kissed him the way he had taught her. With her tongue and teeth and wetness and heat. And she added her own ferocity.
After all, this was one more opportunity to get the last kisses of her life.
He kissed her back and grabbed both cheeks of her bottom and pulled her into him and she could feel his rigid member exactly where it should be to pleasure her pearl.
He and she would be uniquely positioned by their relative heights to couple while standing against a wall. She might have to bend her knees just a trifle, but it would be worth it. And he could keep his boots on.
As if he knew what she was thinking, he took a step and pushed her back toward the window. She shoved at his chest, and they stood, facing each other at an arm’s length, panting.
She knew she wasn’t really strong enough to push him off her if he had wanted to continue to hold her. He was very strong.
“N-no,” she gasped.
“I want you to know,” he said, his breathing as heavy as hers, “if it comes to light what happened last night between us, I am fully prepared to offer for your hand. It would be not at all offensive to marry you.”
Not at all offensive.
She almost slapped him.
Had she become like her father and her brother, unable to control her rage? Not that the Haskett men were physically violent. Their fury came in loud lashings of shouted curses and angry words.
But she had no words.
And a slap would only convince the earl she desired more time in his bed. Convince him even more thoroughly than the kissing had. She took a deep breath and willed herself to speak smoothly.
“No, thank you.”
The hurt in his eyes was back. But what could she do about that? Nothing. Nothing, short of bedding him here again in her bedchamber at ten o’clock in the morning when her lady’s maid Jones was certain to walk in at any moment with Lavinia.
