After this morning, he knew two truths. First, he could not pretend with Jane. He desired her more than any other woman, and even though telling her so might run her off, he could not lie. Not to Jane. Truth. The second? She felt something for him, too. She felt enough to drop her fortifications with her shawls and invite him to ravish her.
He grinned. Damn, he loved her daring spirit.
But it seemed there was one dare she was not willing to try—falling in love. Perhaps he could tempt her to do that too.
Chapter 15
The only reason Jane was up so early in the morning to begin with was because she never went to sleep. She'd been awake all night, thinking of two distinct things.
First, George would not leave her alone. His caresses had seared memories of him all over her skin and mind and deep into her chest and belly, and her own hands had wandered over her body, retracing his fingers’ paths, trying to recreate what it had felt like. She’d stirred longingly, but the real pleasure had been out of reach. Frustratingly so.
Letting her thoughts wander that way was like letting them wander into a lion’s den. She had no plans to take that route, so she should not indulge.
Thus, she’d turned down the second path of cognition. Newburton. He’d answered the right questions the right way, and while no one had won the challenge of the maze—unless one counted George, and she did not—she liked Newburton, in a friendly sort of way. He amused her. That was enough to influence her choice.
Yet, when she turned her thoughts to him while lying in bed, her hands did not itch to wander her own body’s most intimate places. She tried to imagine a life with him, a respectable and modest home she would manage with ease. She’d been prepared to manage estates, after all. He did not have a country seat, so her time would be spent in the city, making friends and connections with other… soap people? She knew nothing about his life, really. But she’d learn quickly. She and Newburton would share a walk around the city once a day because they both liked to keep moving, and he would share his work matters with her to keep her mind active, too. Yes, she could make no better choice than Newburton.
But therewasone better, and her mind stubbornly returned to him over and over. And that simply sent her fingers wandering once more.
She groaned and flopped on to her stomach, then immediately flopped onto her back. She kicked the covers off with flailing legs and swung her feet to the floor. It was the work of mere moments to shrug into a wrapper and tie it snugly about her waist.She would not lie sleepless. There was much to do. Only three days remained until Christmas when she’d have to make her decision clear to all. She should do so now. But the three days stretching before her seemed like a prison reprieve.
Wrong way to look at it. If she did not announce her decision now, George would do everything in his considerable power to change her mind, daring her to flirt with danger. And after yesterday’s maze debacle, she knew he would not do it in any subtle manner. He’d barge right through the hedge to take what he wanted.
Her.
She needed to occupy her brain. What was left to do before Christmas? She could confer with the cook about the menu or see if a proper Yule log had been found. She could check on the footman her father’s valet was training. She hoped he might become George’s valet. The baskets must be taken to the village.The baskets, a perfect distraction. She left the bed and dressed in her riding habit.
The sun glowed on the horizon as she walked past the windows. Daylight had not yet fully established its reign.
But George would be up. She knew he would be. He rose so early.
She did not care if he was up. He was danger incarnate to her well-being. But there was his door. Just ahead.
She was supposed to be avoiding him. But she didn’t want to avoid him. He was her friend. He made her laugh.
Danger.
She stared at his door. What was he doing behind there? Had he thought of her while abed last night as she had of him? Touched himself with each thought? Her stomach tightened, and her breasts tingled.
She should run and simply accept she’d lost her friend to the new attraction drowning, changing, them both.
No. She could not accept that. She almost stomped her foot. Instead, she knocked on his door.
After a short pause, she heard, “Come in.”
She slipped into the room and closed the door softly behind her. And froze. The breath she had just taken stopping its downward slide, her chest freezing during its upward lift. She could do nothing, think of nothing, with such a sight before her—George, shirtless. The sling he’d flung off his body yesterday was nowhere to be found, and the skin around his shoulder glowed a violent purple. But once she looked past the painful sight, the bruise almost disappeared. He was broad-shouldered and slim-hipped. His back muscles bunched as he leaned over a porcelain basin and splashed water on his face. When he stood, rubbing his face dry with a small cloth, his torso reflected in the looking glass. A droplet of water trickled down from his lightly bearded jaw and sluiced down his neck, stopping somewhere between the broad planes of muscle on his chest.
She wished to… lap the drop up. Her face flamed. What a thought! Likely the product of a sleepless night spent thinking of him. She tried to imagine Newburton’s torso. She could not.
George spied her in the looking glass. He turned, frowning. “What are you doing here?”
“Good morning,” she managed to say despite her dry mouth. “I’m on my way to the village to deliver Christmas baskets, and I was passing your door, and I… I felt compelled to see you.”
The hint of a grin on his lush lips. “Oh?”
She nodded. “I am afraid.”
“Of?”
