Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed (Sons of Sin 1)

He only just saved himself from a humiliating slide to the floor. As he gingerly found his balance on the mattress edge, the impossibility of his situation struck with the force of thunder. He’d ruined her and relished every moment. He could well have made her pregnant. She intended to leave him in four days.

Breaking through the fog of self-disgust, he heard a sweet sound that returned him to the sunlit world he’d briefly inhabited. He glanced at Sidonie and amazement almost made him tumble from the bed again.

The woman whose maidenhead he’d just stolen was smiling. No, she was giggling. He’d expected tears and recriminations.

The shirt drooped from her shoulders as she leaned against the pillows. She looked ravishing. And ravished. His beard had chafed the delicate skin of her face and neck. The primitive within rejoiced to see her wearing his mark. Her hair was a wild mane about her shoulders. Candlelight illuminated a hundred colors in its darkness.

She’d raised the sheet over her lush breasts. Her modesty reminded him she was new to this. Unwelcome tenderness flooded his heart.

“This cot isn’t big enough for two, is it?” Amusement laced her voice like brandy laced a mug of coffee on a cold night.

“Are you laughing at me, baggage?”

Hitching the sheet, she settled against the wall behind the cot. “Yes.”

“What possessed you to seduce me here when there’s a perfectly comfortable bed down the hall?”

Pink touched her cheeks. It charmed him that she could still blush. Her innocence reflected the purity of her soul. He didn’t believe in much, but he’d come to believe in Sidonie’s goodness. Her enchanting smile faded and she cast him an uncertain glance. “I don’t like the mirrors.”

She must believe him the vainest dog in Christendom. He supposed he should explain the décor, but why spoil these luminous hours? He propped himself on one elbow, keeping a careful eye on the edge of the bed, and took her hand. “Are you all right?”

After a hesitation, she nodded. “Yes.”

He waited for more but she remained silent. For a woman, she was deucedly closemouthed. How he wished she’d confide in him, trust him.

Why should she?

Except she’d trusted him with her body. He didn’t underestimate what that meant. He wanted to thank her. He wanted to beg her to stay. He wanted to tell her she was the most marvelous being in creation. Emotion silenced him, made it impossible to express what lay in his heart. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm with a veneration that sprang from his soul.

He wasn’t good enough for her. But by God, he meant to make her happy while he had her.

Chapter Sixteen

As Jonas whirled her into the bedroom from the corridor, Sidonie hid her face against his shoulder. Her belly twitched with nerves. Last night she hadn’t had to endure the mirrors. “Can we sleep in the other room?” she muttered into his shirt.

His laugh was a soft rumble under her ear and his arms tightened around her. “Courage, bella.”

“I can’t watch myself doing… that.”

All day, he’d kissed her and touched her but had taken the caresses no further. She supposed he was being considerate, letting her recover from last night, but she was past appreciating his thoughtfulness. Frustration had come near to driving her mad.

“Trust me.” He swung her up with an ease that made her breath catch. Curse her longing heart, she swallowed her protest and curled her arms around his neck. She should insist on walking, if only to confirm that his merest glance didn’t turn her knees to water.

As he gently settled her on the bed, she met her gaze in the oval mirror above. She sprawled across the sheets in her ruby silk dress. Under the glass’s stare, the connection between the man and woman was palpable. Jonas leaned over her with unmistakable intent, but an air of protectiveness for all that. Sidonie’s eyes glowed with uncontrollable excitement.

“You turn me into a sybarite.”

“A man lives in hope,” he said softly, drawing a sparkling pin from her hair. He dropped it onto the nightstand and sat on the bed beside her, his hip nudging hers.

She slid up to lean against the headboard, watching Jonas with a hunger she didn’t try to hide. His angular features showed the strain of long hours of self-denial. She hadn’t mistaken the urgency with which he’d rushed her away from dinner. “I didn’t thank you for my present.”

This evening when Sidonie came upstairs to change, the jeweler’s box had been waiting on the bed. She’d cringed to think Jonas proclaimed his conquest with some garish bauble. But as always, he was a man of surpassing subtlety. Inside the box, a dozen sparkling hairpins lay on white silk. Exquisite sprays of ferns and flowers. She’d never owned anything so pretty.

“I look forward to your gratitude,” he said as more pins joined their fellows on the nightstand.

“I’m sure.” She supposed she should be ashamed of what she meant to do with this man in this bed tonight. In spite of a lifetime of unsullied virtue, she couldn’t conjure a shred of compunction. Instead she felt… free.

Jonas removed the last pin, brushed aside her loosened hair, and kissed her neck. That same sensitive spot he’d found last night when he’d been inside her. A thrill rippled through her, spiced with memory and anticipation.