Page 95 of The Viscount in her Bedroom
“You shouldn’t have come.”
She gasped, because she hadn’t heard him, hadn’t sensed him. But he was before her, looming over her. She was aware of him in the darkness as he was of her. The heat of him was a solid wall she wanted to lean into, to surround herself with. Instead she shivered and waited, alone.
“You didn’t come to me,” she whispered.
“Let us not pretend anymore, Louisa. I can’t be alone with you, because I don’t want to be a gentleman when I am. I want to touch you.”
She felt his fingers in her hair, pushing the damp locks off her shoulder.
“I want to taste you.”
In the darkness, she felt a stir of movement a moment before his hair brushed against her face. She tilted her head as he pressed his mouth below her ear, then licked a tantalizing path down her neck. She groaned, reaching for him, but he held her hands away.
“I want you in my bed, Louisa.” He spoke the words against the hollow of her throat. “I have no defenses left against you.”
She was helpless against the need they both shared. Could he be falling in love with her and not know it? But regardless of her reputation, she was inexperienced in the ways of men. She knew a man did not have to be in love to desire a woman.
But was it worth the risk to discover the truth?
A knock sounded on his door, and he suddenly backed away from her. She held her breath in panic. Much as she wanted to explore Simon’s feelings for her, she didn’t want him trapped in a marriage he hadn’t planned.
“Simon?” It was Mr. Wade. “I just returned from Paul’s. Let me in.”
She fumbled for the door handle behind her. Simon brushed her aside and opened it for her.
“Don’t come back, Louisa,” he whispered. “You can do better than me.”
By the time she ran down the balcony, she was soaked to the skin, chilled—and very angry. How dare he think that his blindness should be a reason to deny her feelings for him!
She wasn’t going to avoid him; she wasn’t going to find someone else. She had met many men, and none had ever made her feel like Simon did. If he wanted her, however briefly, she would take those moments of happiness and make no demands.
It was time she took the risk of loving Simon.
~oOo~
The next day, she kept a close eye on Simon’s activities, and when she saw him head down to the lake with Manvil, she followed. She waited until Simon was already seated in the boat before she called the valet’s name.
“Yes, Miss Shelby?”
“You’re needed up at the house, Manvil,” she said. “I can navigate.”
“Manvil—” Simon began ominously.
The valet only glanced at his master with a grin on his face. “You heard Miss Shelby, my lord. The housekeeper must need me.”
Whistling, he walked away from them. Louisa untied the rope and climbed down into the boat. It rocked beneath her weight, so she settled herself carefully.
“So who needed Manvil more than I did?” Simon asked doubtfully.
“No one. I lied.” She kept her voice cheerful. “Go ahead—row.”
With the oar, he pushed away from the pier and began to row in slow, even strokes. She settled back to enjoy the view of Simon. She let her feet rest between his spread feet. Though he had to feel the spill of her skirts, he said nothing, his jaw set.
Just let him try to ignore her, try to ignore the awareness they’d both known of since their re-acquaintance a month ago. She put up her umbrella and began to hum.
Simon broke first. “I’ve given the order to have the railings installed. It is a good idea, and I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” She kept her voice soft, intimate.
