Page 78 of Lord of Temptation
“I suspect a lifetime of questioning you wouldn’t be enough,” she said distractedly, lifting the lopsided globe from his shelf and examining it.
A lifetime. He could imagine all the questions he’d ask her. He still didn’t know who had given her that first kiss. He hadn’t asked because if it wasn’t her betrothed he might have to kill the fellow.
“Did you make this?” she asked. “Was it to commemorate your travels?”
“Yes. No.”
She jerked her head toward him. “Pardon?”
“You asked two questions. I answered them.”
“You’re being difficult.”
“Come back to bed.”
“Not until you tell me about the globe, why you’re not more forthcoming with information about it.”
He sighed. Had he ever met a more stubborn woman? “I made it for my brother. He seems to collect them for some reason.”
“Keswick?”
“No, Rafe. My younger brother.”
“Was he at the ball?”
“No, he prefers ... the darker corners of London.”
“Why?”
He couldn’t stop the regret from seeping into his voice. “I don’t know.”
Carefully, she set the globe back on the shelf before gliding quickly but quietly over to him and settling on the edge of the bed. She combed her fingers through his hair. “I can’t imagine how awful it was to be separated from your brothers. Mine often irritate the devil out of me, but I know they mean well and that they are always within easy reach if I need something. Even when I was in mourning and wouldn’t come to London, I had only to send a missive and they were quickly at my side.”
“I don’t want to talk about the past. Or the future for that matter. I just want now.” He planted his hand behind her head and pulled her down for a kiss. When he was with her, the past barely mattered. He could forget about how awful it had been to be separated from his brothers, his family, from everything familiar. From the moment he’d galloped away from Pembrook, he’d sworn that he would never complain, whine, or cry about the unfairness of life. He’d buried deeply anything that could hurt him, because it had very nearly destroyed him to leave all that he loved. He’d built a wall so nothing could ever touch him again, nothing could ever harm him.
He was his own man: independent, strong.
Yet this mere slip of a woman was working to find a crack in his defenses. He couldn’t allow it to happen. Never again would he be vulnerable. Never again would he open himself up to hurt. She, of all people, should understand how easily the heart bruised.
Together they could share passion, their bodies ... but beyond that, he had nothing else to give.
It was nearing dawn when Anne found herself again in the carriage, hurtling through the London streets. The curtains were drawn at the windows so no one could see her, but she picked up the sounds of morning activity, people beginning their day. If fortune were smiling on her, her father and brothers would already be home and abed in a liquor-induced haze.
As for herself, her haze was pleasure induced. She was nestled against Tristan, his arm around her shoulders, his hand absently stroking the side of her breast while he nuzzled her ear.
“We can’t continue on with these trysts,” she said quietly.
“Mmm,” he murmured. “I’ll change your mind tonight.”
“No, Tristan.” Moving away, she turned and faced him. She saw mostly shadows and yet she was familiar enough with him now to sense his gaze on her. “I am determined to find a husband this Season, to please my father, to see to my duty. It was the reason behind my trip to Scutari, so I could say good-bye to Walter and accept another man’s attentions with a clear conscience.”
“I would say you accomplished your goal since you’re accepting my attentions easily enough.”
She heard the fissure of irritation in his voice. Unfortunately, a spark of annoyance was riffling through her as well. She’d not have him toss into her face what they’d shared. “But we both know it comes with no permanence. It would be unfair to any gentleman who might be courting me if I were to continue with these ... encounters—as lovely as they are.”
“Lovely? Princess, you can no more keep your hands from me than I can keep mine from you. Hot, torrid, wild, yes. But lovely indicates a tameness that doesn’t exist between us.”
Oh, yes, he was getting angry, addressing her as Princess rather than her name. But she knew it was his pride talking now, not any deep feelings that might be wounded with her departure. “Please, let’s not squabble. There can never be anything more between us than what we’ve shared.”
