Page 29 of Touched By a Traitor
“Naturally. Though I should warn you, my definition of ‘satisfactory’ may differ from yours. I consider it satisfactory if we both survive the experience with our reputations marginally intact.”
Charlotte drafted the contract with efficient strokes, her deliberately masculine script contrasting with her feminine bearing. Andrew extracted two hundred pounds from his leather pocketbook, sliding them across. “I shall consider this a down payment on what I suspect will be a very expensive education.”
Though she tried to remain composed, her trembling fingers betrayed her relief as she secured the notes.
“We’ll assert Lady Daisy’s innocence, arguing Lord Byron fabricated accusations to escape port development obligations. Guilt becomes credible when paired with motive—financial desperation resonates universally. We’ll pursue this under common law within the fortnight.”
Andrew signed with decisive strokes just as a sharp knock interrupted. A footman announced supper, but Andrew dismissed him with a curt nod. As the servant’s footsteps faded,Andrew rose and quietly turned the key in the lock, the soft click echoing in the sudden silence.
Charlotte’s eyes followed his movement, her pulse quickening at the gesture. The professional distance they’d maintained began to feel fragile, gossamer-thin.
“The contract is concluded,” she said, gathering the papers with hands that trembled slightly. “I should rejoin the gathering before—”
“Charlotte…” Her name fell from his lips, stripped of all formality, heavy with longing and regret.
The sound of it—spoken with such raw need—made her pulse quicken. Gone was Lord Carlisle, the shrewd businessman. This was Andrew, the man who had once held her with such reverence, who had whispered her name against her skin in the darkness of that parlor so long ago.
She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “We should return to the others.”
Without looking at him, she moved toward the door, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was dangerous territory—the professional facade she’d worked so hard to maintain was cracking, revealing the vulnerable woman beneath who had never stopped loving him.
“You were to be mine, Charlotte.” His voice was rough with pain, and she heard him approach from behind.
She halted but didn’t turn, her hand reaching for the door handle. “You had your chance. You demanded I sacrifice my dreams to protect your interests.”
“I thought what we shared was worth more than the security another man might provide.” His footsteps advanced slowly, deliberately. “I believed our hearts had room for no one but each other. How could you give yourself to someone else?”
“Because it was too agonizing not to,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
She felt him behind her now, his presence like a flame at her back. When his hand appeared beside hers on the door, not quite touching but close enough that she could feel the heat of his skin, her resolve wavered.
“I waited for your letter,” he said, his breath stirring the hair at her nape. “For months, I hoped you wouldn’t end our association.”
“I stayed away,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “Because I knew if you asked me to come back to you, I would have said yes. And I would have hated us both for it.”
The confession hung between them like a bridge neither dared cross. Charlotte’s fingers pressed against the door, torn between fleeing and turning into his arms.
“You speak of him with such devotion,” Andrew said, and she could hear the pain he tried to hide.
“Andrew, please—”
“Because I dream of having yours.” His voice dropped to a whisper that seemed to caress her very soul. “Every night since the day we met, I’ve dreamed of your hands, your voice, the way you looked at me that night as if I were the only man in the world.”
Charlotte closed her eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. “You don’t understand. What I have with Albert—it’s not what you think. It’s protection, companionship, but it’s not…”
“Not what?” he pressed gently.
“Not love,” she breathed. “Not the way I loved you.”
The admission escaped before she could stop it, hanging in the air between them like a confession that changed everything. She felt Andrew go still behind her, heard his sharp intake of breath.
“Loved?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Past tense?”
Charlotte’s composure finally shattered. She dropped her head as tears streamed down her cheeks. “How can you ask me that when being in the same room with you makes it impossible to breathe?”
Slowly, she felt his body cage her in, his hard chest brushing against her back with each inhalation, and a growing firmness pressing against her spine. His heat surrounded her as his hot breath ghosted over the sensitive skin of her neck before he rasped, “I believe you’re still mine, Charlotte.”
She gasped as she felt the length of him flush against her, his arousal evident as it dug into her back.
