Page 29 of One Night of Temptation
She stepped out of her gown and draped it over the back of the wooden chair. “I insist.” She removed her petticoat, and he turned away from her once more.
Against his better judgment, he removed his coat and hung it next to the one she’d worn from the Craven Cock. Next, he doffed his waistcoat and hooked it over his coat. He’d loosened his cravat earlier, but he hadn’t taken it off. He weighed whether to untie it…
“I am in the bed with the covers pulled up if you’d care to turn around. And I think you should take off your cravat.”
He realized his hand was hovering over the neckcloth. He turned to face her, and she was as good as her word. The covers were snug up to her chin.
A startling and alluring image of her snuggled in his bed at home sprouted before his eyes. The thought of coming home to her after a day of work filled him with a stark craving. Then he imagined her working with him, helping him care for people such as Mrs. Boyle’s orphans. It didn’t take much effort to imagine it.
Which made the reality sting. She wasn’t his wife, and she never would be. They were from two different places. A rector couldn’t hope to marry the daughter of a marquess. And the daughter of a marquess would surely not want to marry a rector.
He really ought to sleep in the vestry.
“Are you coming to bed?” she asked. “I’m cold.”
Are you coming to bed?
The question made his dream real again, and he was tempted to embrace it.
She shivered, and he decided to throw caution out the window. He tore off his cravat and draped it over the hook with his coat and waistcoat. Then he strode to the bed and slipped under the covers onto his back beside her before he could think better of it.
The bed was impossibly small. Well, not impossibly, because they were both in it. It was, however, a tight fit, and he’d be damned if it wasn’t wonderful.
She might be cold, but her petite body felt delightfully warm against him, and her lavender scent captivated his senses. She rolled to her side, facing him, which allowed them more room. It also made him want to turn toward her. But he didn’t.
“How do you do it?” Her voice was soft, and she rested her hand on his bicep. It was a gentle touch, but the connection—for him, anyway—was positively electric.
“Do what?” He resisted the urge to roll towards her.
“Take care of all the people of St. Giles. It must be such a burden.”
“It isn’t.” Surrendering, he turned to his side and faced her. “Not always, anyway. I’ve learned I can’t save everyone.”
“Is that the case with Joseph?”
He pressed his lips together. “I hope not. I’ll keep trying so long as we both have breath.” A familiar pang of sadness tugged at his heart. He tried to save them all but knew he couldn’t.
“You’re a wonderful man, Hugh. St. Giles is lucky to have you.” She leaned over and pressed her lips to his.
The kiss was gentle and beautiful and far too brief.
“Good night.” She settled back onto the pillow and closed her eyes.
“Good night,” he whispered.
It was some time before he slept. And when he did, he dreamed of her and a future that would never be.
The warm presence against Penelope’s back gave her a sense of comfort she’d never felt before. It took her a moment, as her mind and body woke, to remember that she was not alone in the bed. Hugh was with her.
Keeping her eyes closed, she smiled softly as she pressed backward, snuggling into his embrace. For it was an embrace—his arm was curled around her hip, his palm against her abdomen. His touch was shockingly intimate, but not unwelcome. In the span of one night, she’d turned into a wanton.
Or maybe she’d become the woman she wanted to be.
She reached back and touched his thigh, hesitantly at first, and then with more confidence. He was warm and muscular, and she wondered what he would feel like without his breeches on. She slid her hand down toward his knee and then back up, her hand gliding along the back of his thigh.
He twitched, his pelvis rocking toward her backside. Something firm pressed against her. Her eyes flew open as she realized what it was.
Her pulse tripped and gained speed. Then his hand moved, making her heart race even faster. His palm slipped down her belly toward her sex.
