a captive bird. And just as any rational man would after setting a wild creature free, he would leave the creature to its own devices.
It hurt.
Whichever route they took, it would end in hurt.
As it was, the thought of never feeling his soft mouth against her own hurt the most.
She carefully set down the sponge on the rim of the bath.
He had given her back her tomorrow.
She could give them tonight.
Steam swirled off her body when she rose from the tub, and she swayed, feeling light-headed. She toweled herself off and massaged some of the rose oil into her still-damp skin; she unpinned her hair and combed her fingers through the wavy strands until they gleamed. She slipped into the white silk robe.
Back in her room, she gave the bell pull a tug.
Her heart was beating a hard, slow rhythm by the time Millie appeared on the doorstep.
“Take me to His Grace, please.”
The maid’s eyes swept furtively over her flimsy attire. “His Grace will be in his private chambers at this time, miss.”
The servants would talk. It mattered not.
She moved toward the door on bare feet. “I know.”
Chapter 24
Sebastian was sprawled in his armchair, his hair still curling from his bath, and he was increasingly keen on the idea to go to his club for a round of midnight fencing. The bath had not worked. The book in his hand did not work. Angry, unspent desire was still pulsing through his veins, an aggression without a target. Oh, but he had a target all right. One glance at her, bedraggled and dirty as she was, and he wanted her. Wanted to protect, possess, to be with her. And short of bullying her into it, he could do exactly nothing.
The logs in the fire popped so softly, so domestically, it stoked his resentment.
To think this would become one of his greatest challenges yet: to do nothing.
There was little joy in honor tonight.
A light knock on the door jolted him from his brooding. No one came to his chambers at this time of the night. He made to rise to investigate when the doorknob turned.
Somehow, he knew it would be her. He was still unprepared when she appeared.
For a beat, his mind was a blank.
Her hair was down, gleaming, glorious hair, streaming to her waist in mahogany rivers. And she was as good as naked.
Heat swept over him from head to toe.
A filmy white robe clung to her curves as she drifted toward him. Bare feet slipped from beneath the hem, achingly vulnerable pale feet . . .
He felt himself swell and stiffen with arousal. With some difficulty, he dragged his gaze back up to her face.
“Annabelle.” His voice emerged roughly. “Is something the matter?”
She stepped between his knees and her scent curled around him.
He actually felt weak, smelling her again.
“I’m afraid so,” she said.
Every muscle in his body locked when she gently took the book from his hand and lowered herself onto his thigh.
“What is it?” he asked thickly. The soft, feminine weight in his lap had him almost painfully hard.
“I missed you,” she murmured.
Her eyes were on his throat, his shoulders, his chest, taking a primal inventory, and her fingertips began skating over the V of bare skin exposed by his loosely fastened robe.
His hands circled her upper arms in an unconsciously rough grip, crushing warm silk between his fingers. “If you are here out of gratitude—”
Her eyes widened. “No,” she said, “no.”
Her gaze slid down his torso to the bulge at the front of his robe, and he bit back a groan. She may as well have placed her hand on him.
She glanced up, a pink flush tingeing her cheekbones. “I want you, Montgomery.”
I want you, Montgomery.
His grip on her relented, and she twisted closer and kissed him on the mouth.
“How I missed you,” she whispered against his lips.
She slipped from his lap to kneel between his thighs. His breathing turned shallow when her slender fingers began working on the knot of his belt. He clasped her chin and made her look him in the eye. “I cannot offer you any more than I have.”
Her gaze narrowed slightly. “I know.”
She spread his robe open.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of ragged breathing and crackling fire.
When she looked back at him, her eyes glittered with emotion.
She leaned in and touched her lips to his chest, drawing a guttural sound from his throat, and she dragged her open mouth down, down, down the tight planes of his stomach