The Mysterious Miss Flint (Lost Ladies of London 1)

And yet she was not sorry for taking the position. How could she be when her knight had come and rescued her? Oliver had shown her how to embrace passion, shown her how to love.

Nicole's heart ached at the thought of leaving him, but leave him she must.

“I shall return to the manor posthaste.” The tremble in her voice reflected the surge of emotion building in her chest. To be alone again, unguarded, unprotected, would be a challenge.

“Do you honestly believe you’ve any hope of finding Rose there? Stay here. Stay here with me.”

Oh, how she wanted to. But over time passion withered and died. Lust was like the sweet scent of a rose, intense, alluring, quickly dispersed by the changing wind. Oliver Darby did not believe love existed. And so, what hope was there for them?

Time apart was needed.

“When I left the manor, my main aim was finding Rose.” She looked up at him. “How can I rest? How can I think of anything else when Rose is still out there?”

He was silent for a moment.

“Every fibre of my being tells me Rose is safe and well.” A weary sigh left his lips. “But you’re right. How can we make any decisions for the future when our hearts and minds are distracted?”

Did they even have a future?

She could not be his mistress. And he had no ambition to take a wife.

Nicole stepped back, out of his embrace. To wait, to linger would only prolong the agony. She would leave now. Before her weak heart faltered. Before Jeremy sought revenge.

“Then it’s settled. I shall go to Morton Manor and continue the search for Rose.”

He swallowed deeply and dragged his hand down his face. “And I shall keep watch on Lord Cunningham. Shall we agree that you’ll return in a few days, and we can update each other on recent events?”

A few days would be enough time for his desire to fade.

Nicole nodded. “If you’re in agreement, I shall keep Peters at the manor to assist in the search. Should there be any news, I shall send word at once.” She was still clutching Jeremy’s note. “Here, perhaps you should burn this,” she said taking his hand and thrusting the letter into his palm. “Watch it go up in smoke and put paid to your father’s cunning plan.”

He scrunched the paper in his fist and threw it into the cold grate. “I’ll not light the fire in here until you return. We shall watch it burn together. As a tribute to all those who seek to meddle in other people’s affairs.”

And what if she didn’t return?

“That certainly sounds like a plan,” she said forcing a smile. “Well, I have very little to pack, but must beg one more favour.”

He stepped closer. “Ask for anything, and it shall be yours.”

Anything?

The only thing she wanted was for him to love her in return.

“Could I beg use of the carriage? I would rather not linger on the street waiting for the mail coach.”

“Of course. Jackson will remain at the manor for a few days,” he agreed. “Purely as a precaution. During your search, you may have use of his services, and I miss being in the saddle.” He captured her hand and brought it to his lips. “Is there anything else you require before you leave? Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Nicole swallowed. His hand was hot, his lips warm and wet. Her insides melted at his touch, at the sound of his rich voice. She conjured an image of him pressing her down into the plush mattress, of him rising above, thrusting deep and claiming her as his own.

Good Lord.

The overwhelming urge to join with him took hold. Every pleasurable emotion possible swelled in her chest: longing — lust — love.

What harm could it do to indulge her desires?

She was in love with him.

“There is one more thing,” she whispered in a sensual tone. “Show me one more time how deep this attraction is between us.”