would only place him in greater danger than he’d already found himself. Faye did a sweep of the room, contemplating the best way to get him out without risking notice. “You have to go, Tynan.” She started for the door, but he caught her by the wrist.
Turning back, she looked at him questioningly.
“People have identified the connection between us, Faye.” He spoke with a greater solemnness than she’d ever before heard. “You have no family with you, and I’m involved now. I’d see you safe.” He paused, then said it again in a different way. “I came to watch after you, Faye.”
Her lips parted, and she couldn’t form so much as a word, not even a single utterance. He was here to protect her? “But you told my attacker you didn’t even like me,” she whispered. Those words he’d uttered had so ravaged her.
His eyes darkened. “I lied so that he wouldn’t believe—”
That Tynan cared about her. He’d said what he had to protect her.
In that moment, any other part of her being that hadn’t been hopelessly and helplessly in love with this man was forever lost to him.
His gaze narrowed, those thick lashes sweeping down, and he stared at her. Tynan drifted closer and placed his lips beside her ear. “Perhaps,” he whispered, and as he spoke, his mouth brushed that sensitive shell. Her eyes grew heavy and, of their own volition, slid closed. “There are other advantages you can think of to my being here, love?”
“O-oh, I am cer—”
He kissed her neck.
Oh, dear.
This was going to be bad. Or good? As always, everything where this man was concerned was all jumbled. Good or bad. Sweet or sinner. Friend or foe.
Faye angled her head, allowing him better access.
Love. The endearment had fallen from his lips. Not kitten. Not sweet.
But love.
It might be a flippant, throwaway word, but even if it was, her belly fluttered.
“That is why I’ve come,” he said again. “I fully support you in what you wish to do, and I don’t want to control you, and—”
Faye leaned up and kissed him. “Thank you,” she whispered against his mouth.
As soon as the kiss had begun, it ended, and she bit the inside of her lower lip with regret. That regret proved short-lived.
“So are you going to turn me away, kitten?” He nuzzled her neck, lightly nipping and sucking her flesh.
Odd how what had once grated as an insult now bore only the hint of an endearment.
“You kn-know I’m not,” she said in hushed tones. He’d only assisted her, and she could not, would not allow him to go out if he was at risk. Liar! You selfishly want him near. You want whatever he’ll give you.
Yes, she wanted to steal this moment, every single moment, she could with him.
He was going to live here. It was dangerous. A charade that could not last forever. And yet, she was glad for his presence here, for reasons that had nothing to do with her investigation and everything to do with the idea of sharing a household with him.
Faye was determined to take whatever of these final moments she could.
She rose up into his kiss just as his mouth found hers.
He ran a hand over her hip and drew her close so she felt the length of his shaft, springing hard in his trousers and pressing against her belly. And all the memories of their passionate love-play came roaring back.
“Have you ever wanted to make love to a servant, Faye?” he whispered teasingly against her lobe.
“O-oh, hush.” Her voice trembled.
“Hush because you have and because you don’t want to say as much?”
“Because I never imagined a station, just a… man.”
His eyes darkened, and then with a growl, he dragged her nightdress up, and palmed her between her legs.
“Tell me, do you like this, then, sweet?”
She hissed. “Oh, yes. V-very much.” She lifted into his touch, pumping her hips.
“And what of this?” he teased, sliding a finger inside her channel.
Closing her eyes, Faye whimpered. “Mmmmm,” she keened, her speech dissolving into incoherent, husked sounds of desire.
Tynan’s breath came harder and faster in discordant time to her ragged respirations. He continued to stroke her, alternately teasing her pleasure button and joining a second finger to the first as he moved them inside her, over and over.
Faye’s fingers curved around the edge of the Queen Anne writing desk, and he chuckled, a full, low, throaty sound that contained shades of male satisfaction.
“How responsive you are,” he praised. “But then, should I have expected