God knew, he had fantasized about her before falling asleep.Hell, he had ached with lust for her.Had he walked to her room while sleeping?Was that the depth of his depravity?
He was, after all, his father’s son.After a lifetime of inhibiting his baser impulses, perhaps his frayed, lust-addled consciousness had been unable to bear the thought of Miss Scarlett asleep a few rooms down from his own without setting upon her.
He imagined Mrs.Salisbury finding out about what he had just done.What it would do to the house party.To George.To Parkhorne.
Would anyone want to marry George when his brother had committed such a crime?
His thoughts went further.Would they call the constable?He could be brought up for rape, he was sure.He imagined himself imprisoned, disgraced, perhaps hanged.
For a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
And then he realized one simple fact.
They were in his room.
Not hers.
He had come into his room—of course he knew his own room—earlier this evening and fallen asleep in his bed.And he was still in it.
“Miss Perkins,” he managed, “we are inmyroom.”
“Nonsense,” she bit off.“I was shown into this room earlier today.”
“That may be,” he said, trying to find a logical explanation for this catastrophic mishap.“If so, I was never informed.Because I have slept in this room every night for the past twelve years.Check the closet if you must.You’ll find it filled with my things.And those are my books on the shelves.You can ask anyone.”
They stared at one another.Her eyes were wide with alarm, fear even—and perhaps something else.Something strange that he couldn’t name.
“I-I that isn’tmyfault,” she spluttered.“I was shown into it.I was told it was to be my own for this month.”
They merely stared at one another, then.
“Of course,” he finally rasped.“It was a mistake.Neither of us knew the other was here.I came in and got into bed in the dark.I was tired.I fell immediately asleep.It never occurred to me that I wasn’t alone.”
“And as to what happened next?”she hissed.“I wasasleep.What is your excuse?”
“As was I,” he countered.“I didn’t realize that you wereinthe bed, not until—” He swallowed, remembering how he had awakened.He cringed, imagining how her thighs must be wet with his spend.“I awoke.”
A hot, possessive wave sluiced through him.
Helikedit, beast that he was.
He liked knowing he had marked her.
Bastard.
Scoundrel.
“You wereasleep?”she countered.
“Yes,” he said.“I sleep very deeply.As, it appears, do you.”
They stared at each other once more—her gaze laced with suspicion.He had no problem believing that she had been asleep during their intimate embrace.Her gasp and her wide-eyed expression convinced him that she had been totally unconscious.
She shook her head.“You expect me to believe that you wereasleep?I can believe, Mr.Brown, that the servants mixed up the bedrooms, but you expect me to believe that you grabbed a woman unknown to you and-and-and…” She trailed off, clearly unable to describe what had transpired between them.“All whileasleep.”
He realized, with dawning horror, that he needed to convince her.
“I am very sorry,” he said quickly, sitting up in fervor, and then realizing that he was completely unclothed.“I know it must seem incredible.But it is true.”
