Page 26 of Indecent
“Are you anxious to get back to your life?” she asked. “This is a far cry from what you enjoy as a gentleman—no parties, no boxing, no whatever else you do to fill your time that isn’t this.”
“I suppose.” He said that because he thought he should. “Actually, I don’t miss it. Trying to find a wife and meet my obligations is incredibly vexing. These days in the country—with you—have been a welcome respite.”
She fixed her attention on her stew and fell silent for a moment. When she looked back to him, there was a determined fire in her gaze. “You must sleep in the bed tonight. I should have insisted last night. You were exhausted, and you’re working much harder than you’re used to.”
“I am not sharing your bed. You were quite clear on that point,” he said wryly.
“I’ve changed my mind. I won’t accept your refusal. I’ll roll up one of the blankets from your pallet and put it between us.”
A barrier was smart, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep knowing she was within arm’s reach. He wanted her, damn his eyes. What if he did something untoward while he was sleeping?
“I can see you’re concerned, but I trust you.”
“I don’t know why.” He didn’t deserve her kindness or trust. He finished his stew and stood abruptly. “I should get back to the stable.”
She got up and moved to him. Then she took his hand, and he felt hot and cold at the same time while his heart thundered in his chest. “Stop berating yourself. You’re sleeping in the bed. It will be fine.”
She held his gaze, her hand warm around his. He wanted so badly to pull her closer, to kiss her forehead, to stroke her cheek.
But then she did the most astounding thing. She kissed him. Soft and fleeting, her lips brushed over his.
Without thinking, he grasped her waist. He bent his head, intending to kiss her again, his pulse thrumming with excitement, his body trembling with want.
He hesitated, searching her face.
“Yes,” she whispered, placing her hand on his chest.
How he wanted her.
“No.” He pulled away and turned on his heel, escaping to the kitchen where he’d left his hat. He wouldn’t sully her more than he already had.
Inviting Bennet to share the bed had seemed a good idea—the right thing to do given how hard he’d been working. But now, in the dark of night, with him breathing so close beside her, Prudence doubted the wisdom of her actions.
At least there was the blanket between them.
Was she worried that she’d snuggle against him? Ask him for the kiss he’d denied her earlier? Kiss him again?
No, she wouldn’t disturb him. He needed his sleep after the hard work of the past two days. Never mind the scandal of it.
Scandal, really?
Prudence smiled into the darkness. She’d spent five days at an inn with a man who wasn’t her husband. He wasn’t even her betrothed. And she’d been masquerading as a lady.
Everything that had happened here would, out of necessity, remain secret. She’d never tell anyone, not Cassandra, not Fiona, not even her closest friend, Ada, where she’d been or what she’d been doing. So what did it matter if she kissed him again?
What if this was the only romantic interlude she’d ever know?
A week ago, she wouldn’t even have considered such a thing. Romance was for other people, not her. She’d never thought about love or marriage or even sex. Well, maybe not never.
The last couple of days, however, she kept thinking of what it might be like to kiss Bennet, to have him touch her, to lose herself in something that wasn’t planned or necessary. So she’d kissed him that afternoon.
His reaction had been difficult to gauge. There’d been a flash of heat in his eyes, and he’d seemed to want more. But then he’d paused and ultimately left her. What if he thought her a wanton?
A kidnapper wouldn’t judge you,her mind argued. Or shouldn’t, anyway.
What she knew of Bennet said he wouldn’t. She had a hard time reconciling the man she’d come to know the past several days with the scoundrel who’d paid brigands to abduct her.
She ought not forget the scoundrel existed, she reminded herself.
