To Catch an Earl - Kate Bateman Page 0,62

lovemaking, then she was fiercely glad that it had been with Harland. She’d never imagined giving herself to anyone else; it had always been him.

The echo of that thought made her pause. Had she actually said that out loud? She’d certainly thought it. It was nothing more than the truth. She’d never wanted another man as much as she’d wanted him. Her feelings toward him were so complex, she didn’t even try to understand them. She desired him, even when he opposed her. She thought about him constantly. She cared for his good opinion.

Was she was in love with him? It seemed ridiculous, impossible, and yet it was more than mere lust, more than simple attraction. The more she’d come to know him, the more she admired him.

There was absolutely no reason for him to know that, however.

Harland. She couldn’t allow herself to think of him as Alex, despite the intimacy they’d just shared. She couldn’t afford to forget who or what he was.

He lay next to her in the darkness; she could hear the deep exhalations of his breathing, feel the unfamiliar warmth of his body next to hers. She should be taking advantage of his exhausted lethargy. She should be leaping to her feet and running out of the room. But she felt just as exhausted. Her limbs were leaden, as if her bones had dissolved.

Besides, she had to face reality. Even if she managed to escape this room, this building, where would she go? She couldn’t escape her fate. Luc was still in the cells at Bow Street. Sally and Camille were still at home. She couldn’t possibly get them far enough away before Harland caught up with them again.

Emmy exhaled slowly. She was so tired. It was almost a relief to have been caught.

Almost.

The heavy weight of despair crushed her chest and squeezed the air from her lungs. No more running. Her life, as she knew it, was over. When dawn came, everything would be different. Worse. Infinitely worse. Would she even get to speak to her family before she was locked away?

She jumped as Harland shifted on the bed. The mattress bounced as he sat up and moved away, and she heard the rustle of sheets. What would happen now? Was he getting dressed? Was he about to put on the light? Interrogate her?

She heard the click of a lock as he turned the key in the door, shutting them in together, and her heart began to thump against her ribs. He paced over to the window and checked the latch was secure. Apparently satisfied that all the exits had been dealt with, he returned to the bed and perched on one side, his broad back to her.

Emmy swallowed and found her voice. “Now what?”

* * *

Alex didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t know what the hell he was going to do with her. He should arrest her immediately, march her over to Bow Street and place her in the cell next to her brother. Hand her over to the proper authorities. Set the wheels of justice in motion.

But duty and honor seemed cold, abstract concepts compared to what they’d just done. There had been nothing cold about that. It had been heat—burning, fevered, incredible.

He imagined Emmy, cold and hungry in the cells at Bow Street, or worse, awaiting trial in the miserable conditions of Newgate, at the mercy of every vicious inmate, corrupt guard, and twisted official. She could be raped, beaten, killed.

Suspicion reared its ugly head. She’d said she wasn’t sleeping with him to get preferential treatment, but was she lying? Surely she’d do anything to avoid punishment? Had this been a last-ditch effort? One desperate attempt to sway him from his course?

He raked his hand through his hair. God, he didn’t know. Had she feigned her desire for him? He didn’t think so. Her responses had been ardent, her body wet and willing. His cock twitched in memory.

He’d never slept with a virgin before. It should have been tiresome, her lack of experience, but he hadn’t found the task onerous. He’d relished it. Her sweet enthusiasm had only made her more endearing. Alex frowned into the darkness. He should have gone slower. Been more careful. She was so small. Had he hurt her? Crushed something? Torn her inside? He’d heard some virgins bled the first time—

He stood and lit the lamp on the side table.

She blinked in the sudden flare of light and made a panicked move to cover her

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