She was sure she was not, but his words warmed her nonetheless. “You are trying to distract me.”
“I am telling you the truth.” He took her mouth then in a slow, soft kiss that left her breathless and clinging to him before he ended it. “And trying to distract you. Is it working?”
Dear God, yes.His nearness was working. His lips were working. His gentle touches were working. This man could cast a spell upon her without trying, and she knew it. She had let him.
He is dangerous, whispered the voice of reason.
The one she promptly silenced.
“Is your head feeling any better this morning?” she asked, worrying about the blow he had received, which had been enough to require some stitches.
“Much better with you here,” he said, his grin fading. “Thank you for running to my rescue last night.”
“Davy was quite convincing,” she said, heat rising in her cheeks. “And I hardly rescued you. You were already safe when I arrived, thank heavens.”
She had been terrified on Damian’s behalf as well, but that was neither here nor there. Her relief at seeing him, alive if not well, had turned her knees to jam. She had sunk into the nearest chair at his bedside, overwhelmed.
He cupped her cheek, caressing her with so much tenderness, her heart gave a pang. “It is a habit of yours, is it not?”
“What is a habit?” She studied his brown eyes, noticing the glints of cinnamon and gold, the dark circle ringing the iris.
His eyes were lovely. Far too lovely for a man. His lashes, too, were long. His cheekbones high. His lips surprisingly full. It was as if he had been fashioned as an homage to masculine magnificence.
“Worrying over everyone save yourself,” he elaborated softly. “I have not known you for long, Mira, but I have seen the way you care for those around you. Davy, your children, your sister. Hell, you fret over me, and I am certainly not worthy of your concerns.”
“Of course you are,” she was quick to counter.
Because it was true. She had seen enough of him to know he was a good man, a kind man, gentle-hearted and true. Though he may run a gaming hell and live in the East End, and though he had been born on the wrong side of the blanket, he was so much more than his circumstances. He had been caring and worshipful with her. His compassion for the hungry had him making certain they were fed each night. He was patient with Davy, and the lad watched him with undisguised adoration. During the course of their frantic carriage ride to Lady Fortune the night before, Davy had revealed to her that he considered Demon Winter an honorary father of sorts.
On account of us being so similar and all, Davy had added, rubbing the back of his hand over his running nose and tearful eyes until Mirabel had gently chastised him and he had withdrawn a dirt-smudged handkerchief instead.
“I ain’t.” Damian shook his head, then winced. “Fuck me, I forgot about my noodle.” He paused, then winced again. “Christ. Not watching my tongue properly, am I? Blame it on the knock to my head?”
“I am sorry.” It pained her to see him hurting. “Shall I fetch you something? Laudanum? A poultice?”
“You, Mira. You’re all I need.” He pressed his forehead to hers, his warm breath coasting over her lips in the tantalizing prelude to a kiss.
He needed her? Strange to think it, but she needed him as well.
This connection they shared, this bond they had forged, it went beyond the physicality of their joining. She felt things for him. Things she had never felt before for another man.
Things which terrified her.
But still, she could not resist settling her hands on his shoulders and turning her face up, seeking his kiss. He did not disappoint her. His mouth moved over hers, knowing what she wanted. What she needed.
Lulling her into the fantasy she could remain here in bed with him forever.
That was not to be, however. Percy, Joanna, and Gideon needed her. So, too, Octavia. To say nothing of the potential repercussions which would be caused by her absence.Heavens, she had never dismissed her coachman. He must have spent the evening in the mews. She would triple his earnings to make amends and ensure his silence.
She tore her lips from Damian’s, breathless. “I must go. My children will wonder where I am.”
“I am selfish and I want to keep you here, to myself.” He kissed her again, swiftly, lingeringly, before kissing the tip of her nose once more. “But your children must come first, Mira. I understand.”
He did, she knew.
And somehow, that made her heart ache more as she took her reluctant leave of him.
* * *
