her, looking like an angel sent to both soothe and torment him.
She shifted and blushed as he reached back to lock the door behind him and leaned against it. “I wasn’t expecting you, my lady.”
“Does it follow that I am unwelcome?” she asked, and he heard the tremble in her voice.
“You are always welcome.” He pushed off the door and came a step closer. “Always.”
She glanced down at her feet. “I had forgotten how good you were on skates.”
“You are too, once you got out on the ice,” he said. “How long has it been since we did this last?”
“Since before Andrew died. Christmas of…was it six years ago?”
He sucked in a breath as memories bombarded him. “Has it been so long? Was that the year he kept falling on his arse?”
“Yes.” She giggled, and it lit her face as she finally met his eyes. “He was trying to act like it was on purpose, but we both knew he was just terrible at it.” They were both quiet a moment, and then she cleared his throat. “You were very popular with the ladies today, though.”
He arched a brow. Abigail had made the observation that Emily was jealous and though she kept her tone even, he saw the flicker of emotion in her eyes. The way her hands clenched at her sides even as she pretended to be making small talk.
“I suppose,” he said with a shrug.
“Abigail took up your attention for a very long time,” she continued. She’d begun to smooth the front of her gown, little fluttering movements.
“Oh yes,” he said. “She’s a lovely woman. I hadn’t had the opportunity to spend much time with her over the years, but she is something.” He felt cruel to stoke the fire of Emily’s discomfort, but then again, it might be just what she needed to see the future he saw. To accept the life he wanted to offer to her on a silver platter.
“She is,” she said. “She is. Looking for a marriage, I think.”
He thought of Abigail’s offer of a loveless union, of her despair when she looked at her companion. The sting of unrequited love would certainly cement their friendship if they did come to an arrangement.
“I suppose she is,” he said carefully. “It’s expected of her, I think.”
“And of you,” Emily said, and there was another tremor to her voice. “Apparently sooner rather than later. And why not? After all, you have a fine future and you’ll certainly want to create a few heirs to carry it on and—”
He didn’t let her finish. He couldn’t listen to her prattle on about marrying someone else when she was standing there next to his bed, looking so beautiful that he almost had to turn away from her.
Instead he crossed the room in three long steps and caught her in his arms, dropping his mouth to hers. She opened immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck, clinging there with the same desperation he felt burning inside his chest. At least they shared that, even if she might deny him anything else.
He’d take this for now, feed from it. Cling to it until he was forced away. Pray it would be enough.
He shoved those thoughts away and began to unbutton her pretty dress. She hissed out a sound of pleasure against his lips as he slid his hands into the gap he created, beneath her chemise, against her bare skin. He raked his nails there gently, and she arched against him.
“Oh God,” she murmured, turning her mouth into his throat, sucking at his skin until his vision blurred.
He tugged the dress and chemise down together, and then stepped back to look at her. The fabric drooped at her waist, revealing the gorgeous expanse of her skin, the swell of her breasts that he wanted to worship for the rest of his life.
He reached for her, dragging the back of his hand against her flesh. She caught his hand and turned it, forcing him to fully cup her. He smiled at her ardor, her silent demand. And he so wanted to fulfill it. Fulfill her without her having to expend any effort beyond accepting.
But they were running out of time now. Less than a week remained of her party, and back in London it would be too easy for her to convince herself that they needed to fall back into their old habits, their past relationship. He needed her to surrender, or at least start to surrender, to the idea of