Charming Sir Charles (Dashing Widows 5)

“Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no. What have we done? Charles, what have we done?”

He couldn’t see her face through the darkness, but her distraught voice chilled his skin with foreboding. He sat up and fumbled to touch her, but his hand met only air.

“Sally—”

“I can’t believe this has happened. It’s a complete disaster.”

Damn it. “What the devil?”

“Of course it’s not a disaster,” he snapped. The shift from somnolent contentment was too abrupt. He struggled to see her through the shadows.

“But you’re going to marry Meg,” she said, her voice cracking.

His rare temper flared, although he supposed he should have expected something like this. He surged to his feet and crossed to the window. His shaking hands took too long to find the catch for the shutters. When at last he did, he flung them wide, letting bright moonlight flood the room.

“Credit me with some scrap of honor, Sally,” he said coldly, turning back to face her. “As if I’d touch you if I harbored any intentions toward your niece.”

Sally stumbled to her feet. Despite his current impulse to give her a good shake until she saw sense, his heart crashed against his ribs at the delectable picture she presented. She might have tugged her bodice up to restore her modesty, but she still looked deliciously rumpled. Her thick mane of dark gold hair cascaded over her shoulders, and the moonlight was bright enough to reveal her full, kiss-swollen lips. “You’ve courted her for weeks.”

He ground his teeth and prowled across to the sideboard where he used the tinderbox to light a candle. “No, by God, I haven’t.”

He was almost sorry when the flame flickered into life and illuminated Sally’s expression in its full glory. She looked furious.

Worse, she looked ashamed.

Regret and frustration slammed into him, stole the breath from his lungs. What the hell was going on? He’d clearly been a complete blockhead to imagine that during these incandescent hours, they’d established an understanding.

“Don’t lie.” She folded her arms and surveyed him with angry disbelief.

“I don’t lie.” Ice edged his voice.

She dismissed his statement with a sweeping gesture. “You made a point of singling her out. For pity’s sake, you were at every event we attended. What else is that but the behavior of a suitor?”

He growled deep in his throat. “Of course I was a suitor. I was courting you.”

If he’d hoped his declaration might mollify her, he was to be disappointed. She made a disgusted sound and backed away. After their closeness, her reaction was doubly cruel. When he’d been inside her, he felt like they shared a heartbeat.

She shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”

“Why not? It’s true.” His eyes narrowed as he went on the attack. “And if you’re so bloody convinced that I mean to marry your niece, what in hell do you mean by having your wicked way with me this afternoon?”

Even in the candlelight, he saw the hectic flush that flooded her face. “You…you seduced me.”

He arched his eyebrows and watched her steadily, until her eyes flickered down and she turned her face away. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “That wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

She wrung her hands like a wronged woman in a play. “I can’t explain what came over me. I must have been mad.”

“No more than I.” He shook his head and stepped forward to quiet those nervous hands. His anger receded a little. He hated to see her so tormented. “I wanted you. You wanted me. It’s purely natural that we succumbed to our passion.”

For one charged second, she accepted his touch, and he wondered if everything would be all right. Then she wrenched away. “It might be natural, but it’s wrong.”

“Why the hell is it wrong?”

“Well, let’s start with Meg.” Unshed tears shone in Sally’s eyes as she stared up at him.

He couldn’t help contrasting this stricken creature with the glowing woman who had found her pleasure with him deep inside her. Regret tasted sour in his mouth. He wanted that glowing woman back.