Then he reminded himself what had triggered this whole chain of events—she had been in the act of selling her virginity to Tolhurst, so giving herself to him to secure his protection had to be an easy choice. And Celina’s instinct that once he had slept with her it would tie him to her emotionally was not wrong, either. Could he blame her? He tried to be fair. She was at risk of her liberty, if not her life.
‘Won’t you come back to bed?’ she asked.
‘No! Celina, I have told you—’
‘No virgins, I know. But I am not one any more.’
‘You are as good as,’ Quinn said, trying not to recall the feel of her, hot and wet, tight and silken around him.
That provoked a snort of rather desperate laughter. ‘I do not think I can be just a little bit of a virgin, Quinn.’ He glared at her and she sobered immediately. ‘Isn’t it very painful for a man to stop like that?’
‘It is not comfortable,’ he said, hoping to sound repressive and merely, he feared, achieving fractious. ‘It will get better in time.’ She really was the oddest mixture of innocence and knowledge. ‘Especially if you leave. You should go to your room. Are you…are you all right?’ Damn it, he should have checked at once. He had hurt her, for heaven’s sake, there had been blood. His damnable temper. Quinn felt a pang of guilt, then shoved it away. He was feeling bad enough as it was and it was all her fault.
Celina shifted a little, then bit her lip. ‘I’m sore. Just a bit,’ she hastened to assure him.
He now felt worse. She was being brave. Shouting at her was not going to help and he could hardly just throw her out of the room. ‘You need a warm bath,’ he said, in an attempt to deal with this practically. ‘With salt in.’ He got up, gathered her scattered clothing together and went to the door. ‘Stay there.’
If nothing else, he could cope with physical hurt even if he had no idea how to deal with the distress she was inevitably going to feel in the morning when the reaction to the danger of the Runner’s visit and the eroticism of that heated coupling subsided and she realised just what had happened.
Lina blinked back tears. She could not collapse and weep all over Quinn, not after what she had done. He was furious with her for lying, for entangling him with the authorities and for not telling him she was a virgin. She had thought, if he realised, that he might have found whatever pleasure other men did in that, but, apparently not. The very idea had angered him.
How had she got into this situation? If she had known she could trust him from the beginning, then she would have told him about the Tolhurst Sapphire. But she had not known and everything had followed from that, every tangled lie, every pretence.
Quinn came back, her robe in his hands, a nightgown over his arm. ‘Here, put on the robe and go into the dressing room.’ He turned away as he handed it to her, walked to the bell pull and stood with his back to her even when he had tugged it.
His respect for her modesty had the opposite effect to the one he had intended, Lina thought, blushing at the memory of her utterly wanton behaviour. The trouble was, she brooded as she scrambled off the bed and into her robe, Quinn’s reaction only made her want him more. He was chivalrous as well as intelligent, attractive, desirable… Lina knotted the sash and went into the gloomy little chamber that did service as a dressing room.
It was not until she shut the door behind herself that she wondered what she was doing there and what Quinn had r
ung for. Surely not to have her bath brought at this hour? It would utterly compromise her in the eyes of the staff. She should go back to her own room, but there was only the one door and she could hear him speaking to someone.
Lina sat down on the chaise and looked round, feeling rather blank. Soon, she would have to think about what had just happened, about how she felt about Quinn and how she was going to live day to day with him now. The triumph and excitement she had felt at Inchbold’s retreat, his acceptance that she was not the woman he was looking for, was ebbing away. That immediate danger was past, but it was very clear that the authorities still believed her guilty and were not looking for anyone else. How was she ever going to clear her name?
The sounds from outside were still continuing. Lina curled up on the chaise, wincing slightly at the unaccustomed intimate soreness. There was a little blood and she wished she could wash. She put her head on the bolster at the end and closed her eyes, too weary to try to think any longer.
She must have dozed off, she realised as the door to the bedchamber opened, and she blinked against the sudden flood of light. More candles had been lit and, in the corner, steam was curling up from the marble sarcophagus.
‘You rang for that to be filled at this time of night?’ Lina walked stiffly to the doorway. Towels were spread on the edge of the bed and Quinn was rolling up the sleeves of his robe.
‘I did. Highly inconsiderate of me, I know. I also made the point of warning the footmen to tiptoe past your bedchamber door as I assumed you would be asleep,’ he added, shaking what she assumed must be salt into the water. ‘Come and get in and soak a while. It will make you feel better.’
He sounded briskly practical, but he looked grim as he moved to put the screen around the big marble container and she realised he was afraid he had hurt her.
Protesting was embarrassing. Lina smiled a nervous thank you and slipped round the screen. She shed her robe and climbed the library steps that had been pressed into service. It was easy to get over the side and she slid into the warm water with a splash and a sigh of pleasure at the way she could sink up to her neck.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ Silence. Something prompted her to keep talking. ‘Such luxury! No wonder you use it daily. But I am sorry that you will appear so inconsiderate as to have demanded a second bath and at this hour.’ It was easier to talk without being able to see him. How strange that they could speak like this when only a short while before she had lain in his arms, their bodies joined. The very thought of it made those rippling waves of sensation run through her again, and she saw with surprise that her nipples had hardened despite the warmth of the water.
Even the new aches and soreness were pleasurable, Lina found, as she cupped the water in her hand and let it trickle over her body. How could her body feel like this when there was so much wrong, so much to fear?
‘Lina?’ It sounded as though he was pacing.
This was no time to hide in the bath tub. Lina found the soap and washed, wishing she was not rinsing away the scent of Quinn as she did so. She stood up, then realised that without the steps she could not climb out. ‘I’m stuck, Quinn. My legs are not long enough to get out.’
‘Here.’ He came round the screen, eyes closed, holding out a large bath towel. ‘Wrap yourself in that.’
It seemed ridiculous to be shy after what had happened, but she was grateful for his tact. ‘I am decent now.’