Page 30 of The Lady Confesses
“You have,” she agreed. “But it can be a very lonely way to live. Men are high-handed by nature. All of them. Some will use that tendency to protect you, and others will use it to hurt and exploit you. Which of those two is the case with Mr. Josiah Ettinger?”
Hettie didn’t answer. In truth, no answer was required. They both knew he fell into the former category rather than the latter.“I am very tired, Honoria. I think I shall retire for the night if you don’t mind.”
Honoria rose and briefly embraced her. “Rest, Hettie. Tomorrow is soon enough to tackle the many problems to be faced.”
Hettie nodded and then left the drawing room. Taking the stairs slowly, a sign of her exhaustion, she made her way to the room that she had been given for an indefinite period of time. But as she reached it, she paused. Directly across the corridor, opening the door to his own chamber, was Joss.
Hettie allowed her gaze to roam over him, drinking in everything about him. She knew his kiss. She knew the calluses on his hands and how they felt against her skin. She knew the power and strength of his body moving against hers. But she knew very little else.
“We should talk,” he said.
“Must we?”
He sighed, his head dropping. “Not tonight, no. But soon. You should get some rest.” With that he reached for the doorknob to walk away from her.
“I didn’t say that I had no wish for your company. I simply said that I’ve no wish to talk,” Hettie offered those very bold words before opening her own door and stepping inside. But she didn’t close it behind her.
*
Joss stared atthat open door for a moment. Bemused. Bewitched. Possibly even bedeviled by her, that open door tempted him. And he was not the sort to resist temptation when it was something he truly desired.
With slow, languid steps, he crossed the hall and stepped into her room. Pausing there, he closed the door quietly behind him. “If you’ve no wish to talk, what is that you want instead?”
“Is it really so hard to guess?”
“No,” he answered softly. “But I don’t want to guess. I want to know, beyond even the faintest shadow of doubt, that I’m here because you want me in your bed.”
“I want you, Joss. In my bed. Tonight.”
“Only tonight?” Her response mattered to him far more than it was safe to admit. Certainly more than he wished it to.
She gave him an assessing stare. “I don’t know the answer to that. Not yet. But I don’t want to be alone. And I don’t want to lie here sleepless, plagued by racing thoughts about how many things could go wrong in my life. It’s a terrible thing to admit, but I intend to use you as a distraction.”
It wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear. He wasn’t even certain what it was he’d hoped she would say, only that his disappointment at her response was both surprising and worrisome. After all, theirs was not a romantic entanglement. Physical attraction did not make for love, not that he believed in such a thing. It was nothing more than a foolish, sentimental fancy. The world that had shaped him had been too ugly to leave such fine sensibilities behind.
Not that he didn’t admire her honesty. Hettie, he was realizing, was a woman too practical in nature to further complicate their already fraught situation with lies. The only question left to answer was whether or not he was bothered enough by her reply to refuse her. But a glance at her, taking in the utter perfection of her face, gave him the direction he needed and perhaps a bit of clarity. He wanted her. She wanted him. Whatever madness it was that made him think there was more—could ever be more—to it than that was something he would simply have to control. Ruthlessly, if need be. He could protecther. He could take care of her. But he wouldn’t make promises of feelings that simply weren’t in him to give or receive.
“No. It’s only terrible if you aren’t honest about it. We have a lot of decisions to make. And they don’t have to be made now. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t take our relief and our distractions when we can.”
She turned her back to him, presenting the row of buttons at the back of her dinner dress. “I gave Foster the evening off. Help me with my gown?”
Stepping forward, he closed the distance between them, not stopping until he was close enough that her skirts brushed against his thighs. Rather than simply unbutton her gown, he dipped his head, pressing his lips to the tender spot at the nape of her neck. When she shivered in response, it emboldened him to continue.
Hettie had never had the benefit of being seduced. He couldn’t even say that if he’d known of her innocence, things would have been any different that night in the Mint. Danger tended to erase any hint of refinement or tenderness, and they’d both been very aware that night of how close to death they had both come. But this was something altogether different. This was a chance to show her all the things that she had missed. All the things that had been denied her.
“You don’t need to persuade me,” she murmured. “I know what I want.”
“No,” he said. “You do not. Not entirely. But you will.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hettie couldn’t suppressthe shiver that raced through her. His words were laced with sensual promise. And every touch only proved that he was correct. As his lips moved along the back of her neck, down to the curve where it joined her shoulder, she felt her skin prickling with awareness and anticipation. But he would not be hurried. Languid kisses and caresses that both soothed and inflamed followed. Her breathing became ragged, and soft pleasured sighs escaped her even before he’d removed a stitch of clothing from either one of them.
It had been two months since their night together. And she’d relived it in her mind countless times since then. But the power of mere memories could not compare to the reality of his touch, to the pounding of her heart and the way the blood raced in her veins.
As each button at the back of her gown slipped free, she felt the cooler air of the room against her fevered skin. But only for a moment. Then it was replaced by the warmth of his mouth as he kissed and licked every inch of her flesh that he bared. It wasn’t until he finally reached the impediment of her chemise and stays that he halted. From that point, he made quick work of her gown. It skimmed past her hips to pool on the floor, and her petticoats followed seconds later.
“You are shockingly adept at getting me out of my clothes,” Hettie whispered.
