was called for, even if she’d most likely be furious with him for doing so. Which was more than acceptable for him.
By the time he strolled back toward their makeshift picnic spot he was feeling both annoyed and relieved. He had seen no sign of any presence in the area, neither nefarious nor innocent, and they’d obviously made the trip for naught. He had every intention of taunting her, but when he crested the hill he saw the picnic blanket stretched out on the lawn and a veritable feast laid out on it. Charity Carstairs lay sound asleep amid the food, the sun dancing through the leaves overhead and leaving a charming, shifting pattern on her body.
He froze, looking at her for a long, contemplative moment, unsure what he was feeling. He’d brushed those curves the night before, but hadn’t had much time to explore. Her breasts were plump and pretty, and he wondered what they’d look like uncovered. Would her nipples be dark or pale? Would the hair between her legs be the same tawny gold? What kind of sounds would she make when she climaxed? Would she come silently, or would she scream?
He moved then, coming closer, and a wave of exhaustion rolled over him. Curse Brandon and his excesses. If it hadn’t been for him, he would have had a decent night’s sleep. If it hadn’t been for him, he would never have gotten involved with Lady Carstairs.
Which, he thought after a moment, would have been a damned shame.
He sat down on the coverlet beside her, expecting her to wake and break the languorous spell that had covered him, but she slept on, her eyes closed, her breathing deep and regular. A wicked smile crossed his face, and on impulse he lay down beside her, almost touching her, turned on his side to watch her as she slept. He let his eyes run over her, feasting on her, devising a thousand plans to get her into his bed, all of which he regretfully abandoned. She might think herself a woman of the world but she was most definitely an innocent compared to the likes of him, and everything he’d done to her shocked her. Seducing her would be the first step on the road to perdition.
She smelled like roses. The sun painted soft freckles on her nose, and he wanted to touch them, see if they brushed off. She hadn’t had them at the start of the day. Her maidservant was going to scold her quite fiercely. Assuming she even had such a thing.
He moved closer, brushing his face against her arm, breathing in her scent. Sun-warmed skin married with the roses and something indefinably female that stirred his senses. Danger, he reminded himself, his instincts well-honed. This was a very dangerous woman.
And then he fell asleep.
15
She dreamed she was in Thomas’s arms once more, but instead of the gentle, almost tentative hold of his frail arms, this time his grip was stronger, more possessive, and the body he cradled her against was young and strong, freed of the weakness of age and illness. She burrowed closer with a happy sigh, reveling in the feel of him, the scent of him, like sunshine and raspberries. He caught her hand and moved it across his chest, down his flat stomach to that most essentially male part, and it was a hard ridge of flesh, surprising her. She tried to pull her hand away, but he simply caught it and brought it back again, and she let her fingers dance along that mysterious bulge, discovering it, listening to his sleepy groan in her ear.
She edged closer. She was warm, but she wanted to move closer still, to lie against him, have him wrap his arms around her. He smelled like spring and soft green grass, which was silly. Thomas hated the outdoors—it aggravated his gout. But this was Thomas transformed, young and strong and wonderful, and she buried her face against the sun-warmed wool of his jacket, closed her eyes, and drifted deeper into sleep.
He was there. He was the man she would have chosen, young and healthy, slightly bad tempered and strong-minded and protective. They would live forever, the two of them, and there would be babies and battles and laughter and tears. It wasn’t too late after all. Thomas had defied time and fate and come back to her.
She felt the wetness of her tears on her cheeks, and his fingers brushed them away before sliding behind