Page 22 of Too Wicked for Heaven

“What time is it?” she whispered.

He shifted to his side, barely able to stay on the sofa as he stared down at her with surprise. “Why?”

“You said I could leave before dawn, before anyone even knew I was here.”

A shuttered look crossed his face as he dragged one finger over her breast, watching the nipple pucker beneath his touch. “Do you want to leave?”

Alarm bells sounded in her head. “Of course. I can’t stay here until my uncle comes. You know that.”

With a sigh, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Yes, I know.” He left the sofa and looked past it at the clock on the opposite wall. “It’s only three-thirty. You’re safe yet.”

She sat up on the sofa, suddenly very conscious of her nakedness, especially since he was so heedless of his and she was having trouble keeping her eyes off his unashamedly male body. Without looking at him, she reached down and found her shift among the tangle of clothing, then drew it over her head.

As she turned, she caught sight of the blood staining the upholstery. She glanced at him. “I fear I’ve ruined your sofa.”

He cast her a wry smile as he pulled on his drawers. “‘Tis a small price to pay, I assure you, for what you just gave me.”

Somehow his talk of payments didn’t make her feel any better. If anything, it made her want to be away as swiftly as possible, to be done with the untidy awkwardness of their leave-taking, so she could nurse her remembrance of their night together.

She swallowed. “I really must be going, you know. It will take me at least half an hour to get home, and I⁠—”

“Don’t go yet,” he said quickly, moving to sit beside her on the sofa. He lifted her hand to his lips for a quick kiss, then kept hold of it when she would have drawn it away. “You said you’d stay the whole night and only leave right before dawn. There’s still two hours or more before you must leave.”

“Yes, but you’ve had what you want of me.”

He clasped her chin, turning her face to his. “It would take many more hours than that to have what I want of you, darling. And this may be the last time we’re ever together like this.”

Her mouth went dry. Really, he was too logical. And far too good at speaking endearments. It frightened her that he knew so well how to make her heart leap and her will weaken. “I don’t know⁠—”

But he cut off her words with a kiss, a tender one that grew more persistent when she went limp beneath it. His hand slipped under her shift to fondle her breast, making her moan.

“Two more hours,” he whispered as he slid his other hand between her legs to caress her with soft, sweet touches that dissolved all her determination. “Please?”

She gave him the barest nod, knowing that what she was doing was insanity, yet not ready to leave him yet. To her surprise, he withdrew from her, but only to stand and sweep her up into his arms before turning toward a door in a corner of the room.

“Where are you taking me?” she whispered as she clung to his neck.

“To the room that adjoins this one.” He gave a sensuous smile, his eyes alight with the force of renewed desire. “‘Tis my bedchamber. This time we shall be comfortable, my beauty.”

As if I care about comfort right now. She hid her face in his broad chest, feeling the blush steal over her cheeks as her blood raced once more. Oh, I’ve become very wicked, haven’t I?

And she didn’t care one whit.

Chapter Six

Neville paced his study, fully dressed for the confrontation at hand. Thank God Althea had let him convince her to “rest” a moment after the second time they’d made love or she’d already be racing out of here to evade her uncle.

He moved to the open door to his room and glanced inside. Guilt surged in him at the sight of her curled up in his bed, asleep and unaware of his plans. He should have told her. After the first time they’d made love, when he could see her remorse for what she’d lost, he should have asked her to marry him. But she’d been so damned eager to get away from him that he’d been afraid to ask.

Then he’d been too caught up in seducing her again, in exploring the absolutely delectable body now shielded from his gaze by the counterpane. Fortunately, the cover didn’t hide her flushed face or her tangle of hair or her soft, reddened lips⁠—

“By Judas!” he swore under his breath as his body reacted to her again. It wouldn’t do to greet Kensingham in such a state. The entire situation was delicate enough without that.

A knock came at the door, and he winced, hurrying to open it. “Yes?” he murmured to the footman outside.

“There are six men awaiting your lordship’s pleasure in the drawing room.”

Six men. Damn, he’d forgotten about the seconds. And of course, Kensingham had brought a doctor. How should he handle this?