in retreat as he towered over her. “You do not know what you are saying, milady.”
“I know what I am saying.” She also knew what she was not saying, because it was too terrifying to reveal just now, when she was not certain of his feelings. “This fortnight has been a revelation for me. I have realized the marriage I was willing to settle for is no longer what I want.”
What she did want was him. If only he would allow it. But she kept that to herself as well.
“And you know all this after a mere fortnight?” He gave a bitter laugh. “Only a cossetted duke’s daughter would be so fickle.”
“Stop thinking of me as a duke’s daughter. Start thinking of me as a woman.”
He made a low sound in his throat. Part growl, part grunt. “I have thought of you as little else from the moment I first set eyes on you, damn it. That is the problem. I do not belong in your world, and you have no place in mine. You have taken on the role of nurse remarkably well, but now your job is done. Go back to your chamber where you belong and get some rest.”
How did he suppose she could sleep, leaving things between them like this?
“I will not go until you tell me what happened.”
“Prizefighting.”
“Boxing?” she repeated.
He shrugged. “I went looking for answers. When I’d gotten all the information I could, I stayed for a boxing match. Won fifty beans.”
She supposed fifty beans was fifty guineas.
“You were not hurt because of me?” she pressed, needing to know.
“If you think I’m hurt, you should see O’Neal.” He shrugged, as if fisticuffs, blood, and a blackened eye were of little consequence. “You’ve had your answer. Go to your chamber now. I’m tired and I need some rest.”
She was not going yet. “You did not answer my question.”
“I was not hurt because of you. The fight was for me.”
“For you?” She searched his gaze, struggling to comprehend. “Why?”
“To keep me from touching you,” he growled. “Now. Get. Out.”
To keep him from touching her?
The change within her was happening again. Something was shifting in her heart. Melting and filling her with warmth. Love seeping into all the shadows, casting its undeniable light.
She held her ground, refusing to retreat this time. “What if I want you to touch me?”
Chapter Nine
Her question set him aflame.
His cockstand was instant. The longing thundering through him so tremendous he forgot to breathe. It was bigger than him, overpowering, claiming his every good intention where Lady Evangeline Saltisford was concerned. Burning any shreds of honor he possessed into ash.
He would never know which of them moved first. All he did know was that one moment, she was standing before him, her countenance more vulnerable than he had ever seen, unfairly beautiful with her golden hair unbound down her back and a dressing gown to shield her modesty. The next, she was in his arms, and their lips were fused.
Soft, supple breasts collided with his chest. Her curves pressed into him, making his heart pound. Not even the rush he had experienced earlier when he had taken on Sean O’Neal in an impromptu bareknuckle match could compare. He was exhilarated. Fancy cove words. He blamed them on her.
He blamed everything on her, along with the fact he had discovered all the information he needed tonight in the East End, and the answers he had garnered meant by morning’s light, they could put an end to this farce. He had already formed a battle plan on his way back to the townhome. Tomorrow, he would do everything he could to make certain Evie never again needed to fear for her safety.
But none of those facts could keep him from wanting her now.
Or from kissing her with everything he had.
He licked the seam of her lips. God, she was sweet. Sweeter than he deserved. Her tongue stroked against his as she welcomed his kiss, welcomed him. Her response proved his undoing. He was not going to take her. No matter what she thought she wanted, he knew better. The mere hours they had remaining was not enough time. There was nothing he could offer her save desire.
And he meant to give it.
Meant to make her quake and lose control, ache gloriously until she splintered into a thousand jagged shards of herself. Never mind his battered knuckles, his bruised face. He felt no pain. All he knew was the undeniable urge to taste her. Touch her.