No matter how desirable that fate might be.
He took her mouth again, glorying in the softness, the subtle beckoning that, innocent though she was, seemed to have come to her instinctively. He let them both sink into the kiss, let the pleasure seep to their bones.
Kept his hand locked at her waist, refused to let it shift up, or down.
Ending the kiss, lifting his head, letting his hand fall from her face, took more effort than he'd expected. It left him slightly dizzy, blinking down into her wide eyes.
"Excitement enough?" He heard the gravelly tone in his voice and wondered to whom the question was addressed.
She blinked dazedly, then awareness flowed into her eyes.
Amanda dropped her gaze to his lips, felt her own tingle. Still felt the thrill of the invasion of his tongue, and all the sensations that had followed. Felt, recognized, her hunger for more. Knew she c
ouldn't have it-yet.
"For the moment." She wondered at her tone-a beguiling, still confident purr she couldn't have bettered if she'd tried.
She glanced up, met his gaze. Saw a frown in the darkened green. Looking away to hide her satisfaction, she slid her hand down his arm to the hand at her waist, eased it away.
He straightened as she stepped out of his shadow. The waltz in the ballroom had just ended; no one else had yet joined them in the gallery.
She started toward the doors. "Incidentally, you were wrong."
"About what?"
She slowed, glanced back; he'd swung to watch her but hadn't moved from the window. "I do need to travel to Richmond." She held his gaze for a moment, then turned and continued to the nearest doors.
"Amanda."
She halted, then faced him. Across the room, she met his gaze.
Silence stretched.
"When?"
She considered his tone-flat, unforgiving. "We can discuss when tomorrow morning. In the park."
Turning, she opened the door, then looked back. "Will you send your groom as before?"
He watched her. When her nerves had stretched taut, he nodded. "As before."
With a graceful nod, she escaped into the ballroom. Within a minute, she felt his gaze on her back. Moving too determinedly for any to waylay her, she left the ballroom, made her way to the stairs and descended without a backward glance. A footman hurried to get her cloak, another rushed to summon a hackney. All the while, she knew Dexter watched her.
Not until the hackney turned into Upper Brook Street did she relax enough to gloat.
In the pre-dawn chill, Martin sat his roan under the tree in the park and watched her ride toward him. The great houses of Mayfair formed a backdrop, emphasizing the fact she was leaving their regimented world for the less structured, more dangerous and exciting world waiting for her beneath the trees.
He watched as she clattered across Park Lane. Felt a familiar quickening in his veins. The roan shifted; he tightened the reins, settled the huge beast.
She'd won their last round comprehensively. He was trapped, yet he doubted she knew it, let alone understood why. He wasn't sure he understood, not completely. He definitely didn't understand how he'd come to this pass.
Advised of her purpose, it was impossible to let her swan off and seek excitement with other men, knowing as he did that following such a path would likely lead to her ruin. Impossible because of the type of man he was, because of the absolute, ingrained conviction that, given he had the power to protect her and keep her safe, it was his duty to do so.
All that was clear enough. He'd long been aware of his protective streak and accepted it, accepted himself, as he was. What he didn't understand was how she had come to invoke his protectiveness, to hold him hostage courtesy of his own convictions, without, apparently, trying.
He scanned her features as she neared, saw nothing beyond cheery good humor and her customary delight on meeting him. She didn't appear to be considering demanding anything more from him, didn't appear calculating in any way. She seemed to be revelling in the prospect of their ride.
Bringing the mare alongside, she tilted her head, blue eyes searching his face. Her smile was lightly teasing. "Are you always this grim in the morning, or is there something other than our ride on your mind?"