Beauty Tempts the Beast (Sins for All Seasons #6) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,92

happiness with the less he could offer her?

Why was he even debating this? Because it stopped him from thinking of her lying in the bed—

The rap on the door was soft, but it caused everything within him to immediately freeze as though he was the prey realizing he was in danger of being spotted by the hunter. Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part, because surely she would not—

The rap came again, a trifle louder. Something had to be wrong. She wouldn’t seek him out otherwise. Perhaps her room had caught fire.

Rolling out of bed, he snatched up his trousers from the chair, drew them on, and buttoned them up. On bare feet, he padded to the door and quietly opened it only a sliver in case he’d misheard.

Only he hadn’t. She was standing there, appearing vulnerable, with Gillie’s nightdress billowing around her, the hem pooled at her feet. Her hair had been plaited and hung over her shoulder. He had a strong urge to unravel it.

“My fire has gone out,” she whispered.

“Ah.” Nothing on fire in her bedchamber, no fire at all. The disappointment that she’d come to him to help with a chore was stronger than he would have liked. “I’ll stir it back to life for you.”

“No.” She gripped his forearm, her fingers digging in with a firmness that signaled something akin to desperation. “I thought I could share yours.”

“My fire?” he asked cautiously. Did she mean to curl up in the chair before it?

“And your bed, beneath the blankets where it’s warm and snuggly.”

His heart thudded against his chest with such force he was surprised the residence didn’t shake. “Thea, I have the ability to resist temptation only so far. If you come in here, if you’re nestled in my bed, it’s going to result in a rather large mistake being made.”

“I know. But I’m not under your roof tonight, not yours to protect.”

He slammed his eyes closed. She understood the ramifications, what would happen between them, and still she was here. And if her fire had really gone out, why were shadows dancing around her room?

“As you’ve pointed out, something can always be learned from a mistake.”

He heard the uncertainty edging her voice, the embarrassment that she had come to his door and he might deny her entry. But doing so would be the equivalent of turning his back on her, causing her hurt, giving her doubts. He could no more do that than he could stop the sun from coming over the horizon.

Yes, it would be a mistake, but he could limit the damage done, ensure it wasn’t as great a blunder as it had the potential to be. He could leave her virginity intact, so she didn’t pay too high a price for coming to him, so she would still have the option of becoming a wife instead of a courtesan. He opened the door farther.

To avoid the possibility of tripping, she began gathering up the flannel. “Your sister is taller than I.” Was that nervousness that made her voice warble just a bit?

“She’s taller than most women.” Than some men.

When her toes were visible, she stepped over the threshold. He closed the door with a quiet snick and approached her, where she had come to a stop near the foot of the bed. “We can solve the problem of the cumbersomely large nightdress easily enough.”

She was still clutching the folds of cloth. Gently, he brushed her hands aside and began gathering the material, his large hands more effective than hers had been. When he had enough of it, he drew it up over her head and tossed it onto the nearby chair.

His breath hitched at the sight of her revealed. She was beautiful. From head to toe. Delicate. Slender. Like blown glass. Yet, she possessed a steeliness that reassured him he wouldn’t break her.

The drapes were drawn, no lamp was lit. The fire provided the only light. At the mercy of the writhing flames, the shadows ebbed and flowed over her pale skin. While he longed for more light—from a lamp, the gaslight, the sun—he wanted the near darkness that muted flaws and added mystery to what was about to transpire.

He took her plaited hair in hand, held her gaze, and slowly began unraveling it.

Her hands came to rest against his chest, a tentative touch. “I’ve wondered what you look like beneath your clothing.” She trailed her fingers over his ribs slowly as though counting each one. “I assume working the