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The vixen.

As he kissed her once more, his hand grazing her soft and warm skin, he wished he could stay with her and damn the consequences. But she gently pushed at his chest. “Now go.”

And he went.

Adam walked away, cursing himself all the way to his mount. His cock still throbbed, his fingers and breeches still smelled of her sweet release, and his tongue still held the taste of her that was likely never going away.

What in the hell had he just done?

He’d taught her passion, just like she’d wanted him to. He’d kept himself from entering her, from leaving his seed inside, just as he should have done. They’d both wanted it, they’d both craved it, and it wasn’t hurting anyone.

Was it?

Because the ache in his loins and a corresponding ache in his heart begged to differ.

Was he truly going to explore passion with Beatrice just to hand her over to the old man? No. It wouldn’t be possible. Somehow, she’d chipped away at his icy exterior and sank her fingers into his heart.

He already doubted he could ever let her go.

Yes, his dreams and aspirations were all still there, but before them stood the innocent little bluestocking with a spirit that could break any man’s will.

And yet, she didn’t want him. Not really.

What she wanted was to experience as much of life as she could. She had been willing to let any other man touch her—kiss her! Probably even more if it meant she got her lessons in passion.

And that wasn’t flattering in the least.

Here was Adam, ready to put his own life in the background once more, and all for a woman who didn’t even care about him.

He could save her easily. He could go back to that room and propose to her right on the spot. And she would probably say yes to him, too.

But therein lay the problem. She was so desperate to cling to anything that would get her out of the arrangement with Lansdowne, she’d probably say yes to anyone who offered.

A part of him screamed that it didn’t matter. Because it didn’t. Beatrice would be his.

Officially.

Another part, a rational part, insisted that neither of them would be happy in this union. He would eventually fall in love with his wife, that was inevitable. He was already falling for her charm moment by moment even if she frustrated him to no end. Or perhaps, because she frustrated him to no end.

She, on the other hand, would feel obligated to him for the rest of their life. And she would either never reveal her true feelings toward him, or worse… She’d fall in love with someone else and toss him aside.

And what about his dream? He was so close to finding purpose in the calling he would enjoy. So close to seeing the world and perhaps making a difference. Was he ready to give that all up for a woman who didn’t even care for him?

Adam grimaced and jumped onto his horse. No need to worry his head about these problems now.

She’d asked him to teach her passion. He would.

She’d asked him to not fall in love with her. He would try his damndest to comply with her wishes.

Chapter 16

As the door closed behind Adam, Beatrice let out a deep breath. But there was no time to relax, or contemplate anything that had just happened. The chambermaid would enter her room soon, and there should be no evidence of what had just happened there.

She walked to her torn shift and ripped it into more pieces, then hung the still-wet pieces by the hearth. She would just say that she stepped on the hem and ripped it. She would explain tearing it up to use for her menses after the maid washed them.

Then she went to her dressing room and cleaned herself with a washcloth and cold water from the pitcher.

Most of it went to clean the residue—she didn’t know any other way to describe it—between her legs. And that’s when it finally started to dawn on her what had just happened.