And yet, in his dreams… her dark eyes were clear, uncondemning. Tender. Even… hopeful.
When he woke, Sebastian stared at the scarred, smoke-tinted ceiling in his cramped, impersonal room. What now? something asked in his mind.
What now?
“Say my name. ”
“Max. ”
Victoria closed her eyes. She might not be certain exactly where she was, or what had happened to that whispery pink gown, or even whether the glow from the window was moonbeam or early dawn… but one thing she knew for certain was the man next to her.
Her mouth curved beneath his as he bent to kiss her yet again. The scrape of his whiskers had long ceased to bother her tender skin, and her own musky taste lingered on his lips and tongue. His body was long and warm and very, very powerful. Very skillful.
Very welcome.
“And you are?” he murmured against her mouth, settling into her in a lovely, deep slide. Again. Oh, yes, again.
Victoria caught her breath, arching a bit closer to the hair-roughened skin pressed against hers. She spread her hands over the smooth slide of muscle on his back. Her world had slowed from a taut, frantic whirlwind to one slower, more deliberate.
She barely remembered to answer him. “I’m… Jane?”
His cheek moved, and she knew he was smiling.
Max smiling. A wonder.
But then her thoughts evaporated as that smile eased and they began to move together. His mouth against her neck, his face buried in her hair. She felt the warm rush of his breath and felt a whisk of lashes against her temple as pleasure rose inside her… higher, stronger… and then she slid over in a long, undulating wave.
She felt his quiet groan of completion against her cheek, and her eyes slid closed… and her long, loose, sated body eased into sleep.
Victoria woke sometime later. Even though her eyes were closed, she felt the burn of sunlight on them, and she knew it was well into the day.
She lay still for a moment, aware of the warmth of Max’s body next to her, afraid to open her eyes and find… whatever would be the results of the night before. The last time-the only other time-she and Max had been together thus, she’d awakened to a man with regret and bald fear blazing across his face.
She didn’t think she could accept that again.
She didn
’t think her heart could.
A knock at the door had her eyes flying open, despite her intentions otherwise; but before she could respond, the knob turned, and it began to open.
In the bed behind her, Max growled, “Get out,” and Victoria saw the door jerk slightly open-as if someone jolted in surprise-and then whip shut, as if that same person was mortified. She smothered a chuckle. That would give Verbena something to talk about.
For days.
Girding herself, she turned her head to find Max’s dark eyes regarding her.
“Good morning… Jane,” he said. A slight twitch moved the corner of his mouth.
No regret. No fear. Even… a bit of humor? Victoria began to feel warmth bubble inside her. “Good morning. Do you have one foot on the floor, ready to dash off?” She kept her voice light, yet she realized that she was holding her breath.
“Is there a reason I should dash off? The return of a husband or lover?” he asked, his voice light… yet… yet… she felt an underlying edge to it. Subtle, but present.
“No. ” She sat up. The coverlet fell away, drawing his attention… and his fingertips… to her bared torso. “Max,” she said, as his long, elegant fingers brushed gently over her skin, “I want you to know that… it was never like this with Sebastian. What I mean to say is, he never… we never slept. Or woke. Together. It was always much more… furtive with Sebastian. ”
“Hmm,” said Max, in a decidedly un-Max-like tone, “should I be offended that you do recall his name after all?”
But then the glint of humor ebbed, and his face grew serious. “I preferred not to think about what did and didn’t occur between the two of you. ”