Page 54 of A Kiss Of Lies

Sarah tried to repress her shudder. The pain would have killed a weaker man. “Who helped you recuperate?”

He shifted restlessly. “I had Roberts and the rest of the staff.”

“You didn’t have anyone special?”

He turned to look at her as if she were asking a ridiculous question. “No.” His tone was harsh. He blinked and looked away. He looked out the window at the still night. “There was no one. My mistress thought I was going to die, so she found another benefactor as quickly as possible. Eloisa was not the type to hold anyone’s hand. A man’s wallet was of more interest to her.”

“I can’t understand what men find so pleasing in such an arrangement.”

He stared at her for ages before he said, “Having met you, I don’t either. I could never go back to that sort of paid arrangement.”

“I would have never left your side if I’d been there.” Sarah bristled with anger. Who could abandon a man as good and as kind as Christian when he was so badly wounded? Christian would never have left Eloisa if she’d needed help. It was startling to realize that she had known him a short while, yet it felt like she’d known him all her life. She understood the essence of the man, and a part of her wanted to tell him the truth. She should confess her sins and rely on his sense of gentlemanly honor to provide a haven for her. But doing that would be selfish. It would cause him distress. Besides, she’d accepted her lot. He would lose more than his position in society for trying to help her. He needed to truthfully state he had no idea who she really was. She would not make him an accessory to murder. Not when he was already under suspicion for a heinous crime himself.

Besides, there was nothing he could do for her that he wasn’t already doing, be it without his knowledge.

He was already protecting her by giving her a job and taking her home to England. She was clothed, fed, housed, and respected. She’d found a place where she could belong. He was already helping her overcome the nightmare of the last two years, by teaching her about goodness, trust, real passion, and pleasure.

The pain deep in her chest was more to do with unattainable opportunities. As Lady Serena Castleton, she could have been more than a short-term affair to a man such as this. She could have become his wife, a mother to his children, a true lover. Now she could be nothing more than a temporary paramour. He would move on and eventually marry. She would have to stand by and watch. As long as he was happy, she could bear it.

He noticed her sudden silence. Rolling to the side of the bed, he stood and collected his clothes. “It’s late and we’re sailing tomorrow. I’d best let you get some sleep.” He bent to kiss her cheek. “Thank you for a very special night. I look forward to many more.”

“Remember, it’s only until we reach England. I’ll hold you to your promise.” She thought she glimpsed a defiant look in his eyes, but it was so fleeting she couldn’t quite understand its implication. She didn’t want to ruin this night. “Until England,” she repeated.

He continued dressing in silence. She watched the moonlight dance over his magnificent body, and her heart gave a lurch as she recognized the sensations his body aroused in her: protection, fierce loyalty, desire, and—far worse—love. She wanted to love this man. She wanted to be free to love him and to show him he might be damaged on the outside, but inside he was beautiful beyond words.

But that was a dream that could never come true. This was her punishment for her sins: to find the man of her dreams and to be unable to ever acknowledge him.

Once he was fully dressed, he moved to the door. With his back to her and his hand on the latch, he said quietly, “A part of me wants to be in England tomorrow, so that I may stop this nonsense with Harriet and get on with my life. But devil take me, a part of me would sail around the world for eternity to keep you with me.”

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. For once she was speechless. Pleasure and warmth radiated through her, but by the time she found her tongue he was gone.

She lay back and stared with deep sorrow at the ceiling. It was probably just as well. For what could she say to a man who, through circumstances beyond their control, could never truly be hers?

ChapterThirteen

Plymouth, England, June 1816

They were home.

It was still nighttime when she woke. Sarah drifted back to awareness, still exhausted from their urgent lovemaking. Christian had made love to her over and over again through the night, their desperation growing with each caress and kiss, knowing this would be their last night together. The ship barely rocked. They were no longer in open sea. She knew they’d docked at Plymouth sometime around midnight.

Her time as Christian’s lover was at an end.

She listened to the soothing rhythm of his soft, deep breathing and turned her head on the pillow, gazing for a long moment at the wonderful man sleeping beside her. She wanted to paint this moment in her memory so she’d never forget his kindness, goodness, and gentleness.

Christian.

She knew she’d never stop thinking about his touch, his smell, the sinful words and sounds he made as he thoroughly loved her. She lay still, desperate to soak in the contentment filling her, yet at the same time needing to loosen the connection to him, so she could walk away without completely dying inside.

A tender smile played at her lips as she studied him. He’d hogged most of the small bunk, as usual, almost pushing her onto the cabin floor. She didn’t mind. It gave her an excuse to lie close to him, to hug close to his warmth.

Christian slept on his stomach, facing her, his hand resting possessively on her breast, the sheets tangled loosely around his long, muscular legs. His dark hair fanned across his cheek, hiding his scars and highlighting his remaining facial beauty. Her eyes drank in the rest of him. Every time she saw the burn marks flowing over his bare back she wanted to stroke and soothe. But she didn’t want to wake him just yet. She let a wistful sigh escape her.

It was hard not to touch him when she knew the velvet warmth of his skin and the safety of his embrace. Even if she was no longer his lover, he would always protect her. She loved him even more for that.

She should go back to her cabin and get ready to start her new life. She should go before he woke. He would try to stop her, try to talk her into continuing their relationship, and God help her, she could so easily cave in to his persuasion. How could she walk away from the best thing that had ever happened to her? How could she walk away from true love?

She inwardly gritted her teeth and called on the strength of her willpower. The longer she lingered, the greater the chances he would wake, and she couldn’t take a scene. Raising herself up gingerly from the mattress, she tried to slip away from under his hand. Unfortunately, he moved and his fingers curled in her hair, stopping her from standing. She lay back down.

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