Page 25 of Tempting Mr. Townsend
Because the obvious meaning couldn't be true in any universe Anthony Townsend inhabited.
She closed her eyes and sucked in an audible breath. “I'm not saying it again.”
He spoke very clearly to avoid further misunderstandings. If he got this wrong, the consequences would be disastrous. “You're giving me to understand that…that you wouldn't object to a kiss or two?”
She stared at the floor, and her hands twined over each other in a dance of uncertainty. “It's impossible.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Her eyes flashed up. “I'm a virtuous woman. And the scandal will be bad enough already, with me taking off into the night and staying unchaperoned in your house.”
He smiled slowly. “We may as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.”
She backed away. “You don't understand.”
Actually he did. Finally. “You haven't had a lover since Sir Henry died, have you?”
“Of course not,” she said hotly.
Vast tenderness flooded him, sweeping away hesitation. He'd wanted Fenella Deerham from the first. Discovering that she wanted him, too, emboldened him to meet all opposition head on. Even from a dead man.
“Fenella” he said gently, “you've been on your own for five years”
Distress turned her eyes glassy. He didn't underestimate the obstacles between them—the prospect of desiring someone new threatened to tear her apart. Let alone going on to do anything about it. “I love Henry.”
“That's well and good. But you're a vibrant, attractive woman and, forgive my bluntness, you're here and he, God rest his soul, isn't.”
“So I should leap into the bed of the first reprobate who shows an interest?” she asked bitterly.
Anthony couldn't help smiling. “I very much doubt I'm the first man in five years who's expressed his admiration” He inspected her thoughtfully. “But that's not the real problem, is it? The real problem is that I'm the first man who has aroused your interest in return.”
“That's…that's why I think we should try and avoid one another”
He commended her courage—and honesty. His laugh was wry. “That will be difficult if those two hellions continue to be best friends.”
“We could try." Desperation edged her soft voice.
When he caught her trembling hand, the contact of skin on skin made her start as if he'd burned her. “Or we could see where this takes us.”
She made a halfhearted attempt to pull away. “You mistake me. I don't want a lover.”
“Why?”
She stared at him in helpless confusion. “I have a son to consider.”
He smiled faintly and brought her hand to his lips. She gave another of those starts. “You're a woman with needs and feelings. Aren't you lonely, Fenella? Don't you miss a man's kisses, the touch of his hand, a warm body to cling to in the night?”
Not long ago she'd been pink as a sunset. Now she was pale as milk. “Stop it.”
“No.” His grip firmed. “Stay with me.”
She stiffened and spoke in a cold voice. “I'm not going to your bed with my son in the house.”
He smiled faintly. “I'm not expecting your capitulation tonight—however nice it would be.”
“Mr. Townsend—”
“Anthony.”
