My Reckless Surrender

He didn’t smile. “Something I need to know. Are you sure you’re not married?”

“I’m not married.” At least this far, she could be truthful.

“God help me, I don’t think I care.”

He speared his hands in her hair and tilted her head. She waited for his kiss, but instead his eyes ravished her features.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she whispered, distress constricting her throat.

He groaned and rested his forehead against hers. Briefly, their breaths mingled before he straightened without releasing her.

Heaven help her, she never wanted him to release her.

“Diana, will you come to me tonight?”

She panted as if she’d run a mile. Her heart thundered in her ears. There was only one answer. She gave it because she needed him, not because of any collusion.

“Yes.”

She felt his deep sigh of relief. Tension drained out of him. Only now did she realize how on edge he’d been. “Thank you.”

Her hands formed talons in his coat. “Where?”

Suddenly she was aware how relentlessly time passed. They didn’t have long to make arrangements. If she could, she’d run off with him now and snatch at pleasure like a child snatched at a new toy.

“Your house?”

“No.” She had to stop him learning where she lived. As it was, he’d discovered her name and that she came from Surrey. Small concessions, but a clever man like Ashcroft could use them to expose her whole life.

And she couldn’t bear to lose him yet.

Not yet.

Although a grim voice in her heart reminded her that losing him was inevitable.

“Perry’s still away.” His voice was ragged. Desire bubbled like lava beneath every word.

“I’ll meet you there.”

“When?”

They spoke quickly, in whispers, like conspirators.

“I’ll get away from my aunt as soon as I can.”

He pressed a hungry kiss to her lips and stepped back. Straightaway, she missed his touch. “Ashcroft…” she began, not sure what she meant to say but unwilling to let him go.

“Oh, topping, here are the mummies.” A boy’s voice smashed through the searing intensity between them.

Automatically Ashcroft moved to shield Diana. She clutched his shoulders, praying they’d remain unnoticed. It was an echo of the moment she’d clung to him in the alley outside the ballroom. Strange how natural it was to seek shelter in his arms.

“Nasty, smelly things,” said a young girl in a superior tone. “Miss MacCallum, I don’t want to stay here.”

Ashcroft’s hand curled around the back of Diana’s head and he hid her face in his shoulder. It was such a protective gesture, her heart clenched with guilt. And unwilling warmth.

If he knew the truth, he wouldn’t feel protective. He’d feel used and deceived. He’d hate her. As was his right.

“You never even looked at it, Kate,” the boy said with justified irritation. “It’s shut away in a case. You can’t smell it.”