Kisses and Scandal (A Survivors Series Anthology ) - Shana Galen Page 0,98
had teased him with the exposed flesh all evening. Her breast was as plump as he’d imagined, and judging by the way her breaths panted in and out, she would probably not have objected if he ripped that pretty bodice to expose all of her to his lips.
But he was afraid once he began undressing her, he would not be able to stop. He wanted more than one night with this woman. He wanted a lifetime of them.
“I want you to marry me,” he said, looking up at her. She stilled, her eyes opening. He heard the quick intake of her breath.
“You’re not thinking right now,” she said.
“I’ve thought of little else the past few days.”
She shook her head. “You should marry one of the ladies who couldn’t stop staring at you at the ball.”
He raised his brows. “There were ladies who couldn’t stop staring at me? I didn’t notice.”
“I did. They would make a better wife than I would. My father’s men—”
“Will never find you. You are safe with me.” He brushed his finger over her lips, and she closed her eyes, her body shuddering with desire. “And I don’t want those women. I want you.”
“I want you too.” She arched up and kissed him, a kiss that left no doubt as to how much she wanted him. With reluctance, he pulled away.
“Then marry me.”
She sat, her expression conflicted. Holding up a hand, he stayed her answer. “Don’t say anything tonight. Tell me after the opening ceremony. Give me a few days to prove that I am the right man to be your husband.”
She kissed him, gently this time. “You have nothing to prove.”
She stood and retrieved the book of poetry from the shelf where he’d lain it. Then with a sad smile, she walked out of the library.
“You have nothing to prove either,” he whispered, watching her go.
Seven
Raeni lay awake most of the night, remembering dancing with Thomas at the ball and, even more exciting, the feel of his lips and hands on her after the ball. He wanted to marry her. Her! The girl who no one had ever paid attention to. The girl who had been too dark to be pretty. The girl whose father couldn’t wait to sell her and be rid of her.
Raeni’s mother had always told her to stand straight, to be proud of who she was—intelligent, kind, and beautiful. Raeni had never believed she was beautiful. Every mother thought their child was beautiful, but when Thomas looked at her and kissed her, Raeni could almost believe it.
She even allowed herself to imagine what it might be like to be his wife, to lie beside him in bed, to stand at his side at other Dark Balls, to be the mother of his children.
It was foolish, she knew, but she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it. And perhaps that was why she didn’t hear Thomas and the butler until she was right outside the dining room door. The door was ajar, and she was about to enter when she heard the butler say, “Sir, might I speak to you about the matter I mentioned last night?”
“Of course. What is it, Evans?”
“About an hour after you left, the maid was walking through the house dousing the lamps and drawing the curtains. She happened to look out in the garden and see a man.”
Raeni heard the clatter of a cup against its saucer. “Go on.” Thomas’s voice was low and even.
“She screamed out of surprise and fright, and the men ran.”
“Men?” Thomas asked. “You said she saw a man.”
“At first, yes. But when she screamed, two men ran, she reported. One must have been hidden in the shrubbery. I investigated, of course. I went into the garden and followed them through the back gate into the mews. They were too far ahead, but I counted at least two men running away. When I returned, I spotted two sets of tracks in the dirt by the gate, which I am sorry to say, was damaged. The lock has been tampered with and the hinges broken.”
“Any idea what these men might have wanted?” Thomas asked.
“I assume they planned to rob the house, sir.”
“Then it is a good thing you and the rest of the staff were here to thwart them.”
Raeni pressed herself back against the wall as the men continued to discuss repairing the broken gate. She didn’t believe the men in the garden had been thieves—not the sort of thieves Thomas and the butler were