A Reckless Encounter

He leaned over her, turned her to face him, and she managed a nod and agreement.

“Of course I understand. Do you think I want to risk my reputation?”

“You have strange standards, to yield your virginity but worry about your reputation. No, don’t misunderstand, but I have to ask you a question. Under the circumstances, I think it rather a legitimate concern. Why are you here?”

“You invited me—”

His fingers tightened on her face, not harshly but with steely intent. A muscle leaped in his jaw, and his gaze was intent.

“Don’t play coy, Celia. You know what I mean. You’ve been flirting with me since the first time we met, and I was led to believe you were—experienced. Unless this is no trick, I can only assume that you have ulterior motives.”

“If we’re being honest here, I think we both have to admit to ulterior motives,” she said bluntly. “You wanted to bed me, and I allowed it.”

“And in return?” His eyes were slightly narrowed, and a mocking smile touched the corners of his mouth as he let his hand rest upon her belly.

“And in return, I expect you to respect my wishes and keep this private between us. Can you do that?”

In the close confines of the velvet bed hangings, his face was shadowed. Light from a lamp on a table across the chamber barely relieved the gloom, but she could see the disbelief in his eyes.

“That is all you expect?”

“Yes,” she said. “That is all I want or expect from you, my lord.”

“Colter,” he reminded, and drew his hand up and over her rib cage. “You are ever a surprise, it seems. I never know what to expect from you.”

Feeling bolder, and realizing she had caught him off guard, Celia reached up to pull his head down until her lips were only a fraction away from his mouth.

“Expect the unexpected, Colter. Always.”

She kissed him, and after a moment, he kissed her back again, fiercely and with rising passion. Her hands slid over his back; fingers grazed tensed muscles as he moved over her, then moved up again to curl around his neck and tangle in his dark hair as he slid inside her in a long, slow pressure.

It wasn’t as abrasive this time but just as potent, and Celia gave herself up to the breathless anticipation he created with hot, turbulent friction, the thrust and drag of his body eliciting unexpected release. It was more violent this time, fierce as he pounded inside her, an unyielding force that took her to sweet oblivion.

Afterward, she allowed him to take her back into the room with the tub of cooling water, his touch gentle and somehow comforting as he sponged her body with a cloth dipped in the scented water. His movements were impersonal and efficient, as if he’d done this very thing a hundred times before, and it was oddly comforting.

When he walked her the few steps to her bedroom door, he paused and put her face up with his hand beneath her chin, then kissed her gently.

He’d pulled her silk dressing gown around her body but he wore nothing, a powerful reminder of what they’d just shared. Celia looked away, suddenly and inexplicably shy.

“I have a feeling,” he said softly in a teasing tone, “that there’s a lot more to tonight than I want to know. We’ll worry about that tomorrow. Now you need to rest.”

Tomorrow would come too soon. How would she be able to face him again? With Jacqueline watching, and all that had gone between them still so fresh in her mind, she was liable to betray herself.

Oh God, she hoped it would be worth it in the end, for she felt as if she’d just stepped off a ledge into empty air.

17

“Celia dear, you look so pale.” Jacqueline leaned forward with a slight frown. “Are you unwell?”

“No—just a headache.”

“Didn’t you sleep well?”

Celia forced a smile. “Everything is fine, truly it is. It’s just this beastly headache—”

“Shall I have Janey fetch one of my little powders for you?”

They were seated on the terrace, where the morning sun had not yet burned off all the mist beyond the brick wheels of flowers; tables had been set with fine white linen and extravagant vases of late blooms, and sideboards groaned beneath silver platters. It was warmer in Kent than in London, the seasonable weather a welcome change. Celia squinted against the bright light as she shook her head. “Really, it will be fine. Too much wine last night is no doubt the cause. I’m not accustomed to it.”