Wordlessly she nodded.
His hands flexed on her waist. “Then come with me.”
Emilia feltgiddy as they hurried through the inn, clasped hands concealed in the sweeping folds of his greatcoat.
She had heard his plea, and understood it. She was twenty-seven years old, no green girl but a clear-eyed woman who had seen something of the world and who knew her own mind.
And what she knew... was that she wanted him.
What’s more, she trusted him.
It wasn’t a mistake to follow her heart. It wasn’t a mistake to seize happiness when it appeared, unexpected and thrilling, in front of her. It wasn’t a mistake to want love—she hadn’t expected to find it with a ruthless, calculating gaming hell owner who was turning out to be one of the most honorable men she’d ever met, but she wasn’t fool enough to shy away because of that.
At the top of the stairs, he paused. To one side lay her room, beside that shared by Charlotte and Lucy. Across the corridor was his room. He hadn’t brought anyone like a valet, but had carried his own valise into that room when they arrived.
Nick held up the lamp, illuminating both doors. Emilia glanced at the closed door of the girls’ room, then tugged him toward his. He gave her a slow, hungry smile, and followed.
Her nerves caught up to her as he closed the door and shot the bolt. In the morning, she would be amazed at her behavior tonight. Kissing him! Throwing herself into his arms! Telling him to make love to her!
Nick set down the lamp and faced her, and Emilia made a note to remind herself tomorrow that she was an independent woman, allowed to want things for herself. She had been so focused on Lucy and Lucy’s needs, she’d done little for herself in two years.
Tonight she meant to make up for that, whatever tomorrow brought.
“Come here.” Nick extended his hand. Emilia took it and went readily into his embrace.
For a moment he simply held her, his arms around her, tucking her into his chest. He rested his cheek against her temple, almost lovingly. Emilia breathed deeply, unprepared for how comforting it felt to be held this way, by him.
“Emilia,” he murmured, his breath warm on her cheek. His lips brushed her earlobe. “God above, how I want you.”
She tilted her head, and his lips moved down her neck. “I know,” she said unsteadily.
Nick gave a harsh bark of laughter. His hands slid down her back, from her shoulders to her waist to her hips, where they paused. He lifted his head and rested his forehead against hers. “But I alsolikeyou. If this will ruin—”
She put her fingers over his mouth. “You’re no longer my employer, Mr. Dashwood. I do as I please now.”
For a moment they stared into each other’s eyes. “What does it please you to do, Miss Greene?” he asked in a deep voice.
Emilia’s heart stuttered. With remarkably steady hands, she reached up and pulled away his undone neckcloth. “I want to make love to you,” she whispered.
He gazed at her for a long moment, then kissed her. It began tenderly but grew hotter, more desperate. Emilia was so absorbed in kissing him that she didn’t realize he had undone the buttons of her dress until he stepped back a pace and yanked the entire bodice down, shoving the dress to the floor as she pulled her arms free.
“This has been driving me mad.” He ran his thumb along the narrow ruffle at the edge of her shift. “When we danced the quadrille, it was all I could think of.”
She blushed, remembering that dance. “You never missed a step.”
“If I’d missed a step, I would have lost sight of it.” His arm went around her waist and he pulled her roughly against him. “Are all your undergarments covered in tiny ruffles?” he murmured, dragging his free hand through her hair and sending pins flying. “The question has tormented me.”
She tugged at the top button of his waistcoat. “You’ll have to find out.”
His eyes flared, and a dangerous smile came over his mouth. “Let me make a thorough survey.”
It should not have taken long. Emilia’s clothing was simple, and he’d already stripped away the dress. But Nick took his time, turning her as he pleased and applying his mouth to every inch of skin as he uncovered it. By the time he dragged the shift over her head, leaving her in just stockings and shoes, Emilia could barely stand. He’d disrupted all her efforts to strip him, but his hair stood up in unruly spikes and his face was nearly as flushed as hers.
“Pink,” he whispered reverently as he went down on his haunches. Emilia blushed furiously, but he was looking at her garter, the faded raspberry ribbon tied snugly around the top of her stocking. Nick raised her foot and rested it on his knee, one hand cupped under her thigh. He tugged the ribbon loose, and pressed a kiss to the spot as he drew off the stocking, his fingers stroking her leg, all the way down... and all the way back up.
Emilia wobbled, lightheaded. She clutched at his shoulders as he did the same thing to her other stocking. He rose suddenly, lifting her against him. She gasped, and then laughed a little as he carried her to the bed.
He lowered her to the mattress, looming over her. For a moment he just looked at her, his heavy-lidded gaze wandering over her body as if he meant to memorize it. And then, finally, he took off his own clothes.
