Page 39 of Tempting the Scoundrel
“Alex.”
Alexandra shut her eyes a moment before turning to Nick. He stared at her in astonishment, and—oh, good god—lust? It was an expression that spoke of desire—of twisted sheets and hard fucking. Perhaps she was every bit as perverse, for the image made her hot all over. Alex shoved down that ridiculous thought. “You.” She made a sharp gesture. “Your suite. Now.”
Nick followed her up the stairs. “Alex.”
“Not yet. I’m still fuming.”
“I know,” he said casually, shoving his hands into his pockets. They rounded into the private wing. “Listen. What Latimer said—”
“Don’trepeat it.”
“Wasn’t going to.” He looked askance at her. “You were magnificent.”
“Nicholas.”
“And I adore you.”
She shook her head and let out a gusty laugh. “Enough flattery,” she said, jerking open the bedchamber door. “Inside, please. Take off the waistcoat and the shirt.”
He smiled slowly as she shut the door behind her. “I like where this is going.”
God, but he was beautiful like this. Fierce, sexual, confident. Desire made it so easy to forget everything he had done, but Alexandra could not allow it. She couldn’t let herself forget. “You’re bleeding through your clothes. Let me see your wound.”
“Now I hate where this is going. Let’s try again. I take off my shirt, and you . . . ?”
“I’m about to throw a vase at your head, Nicholas.”
At her exasperated look, he chuckled. “Very well. Be my nurse, then.”
He deftly removed his waistcoat, then lifted his shirt over his head and dropped it.
How could Alexandra have forgotten Nick’s beauty? He was devastating enough in his clothes, but the long, lean lines of his body were the exquisite product of a man who saw no value in leisure. A part of her wished she’d had the opportunity to touch him more, explore him thoroughly. At the inn where he had taken her virginity, the candlelight had hidden so much from her. Then, on the train later, they had been covered by blankets as he’d taken her hard and fast on the slim bed in their private rail car.
He’d made it seem like they had all the time in the world. And he’d smiled at Alexandra exactly like that. Exactly.
The next day, she’d found out how many lies that smile hid.
His eyes held hers in an unspoken challenge. Daring her to look away, perhaps. Or daring her to come closer. “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” he murmured, repeating her words from the other night.
A pang went through her. Did he hurt at the reminder of what they shared? Had he thought of their journey to Stratfield Saye in the darkness of his bedroom? Did he touch himself at night and recall the swaying bed on the train where they’d spent so many hours? She did—and she hated herself for wanting him.
But Alexandra would not look away. Admiring his beauty was not the same as approval. She had to remember he was not like a lion. Lions acted out of survival; this one had made the conscious choice to betray her.
“Turning my words around on me?” she asked. “It’s not necessary. I remember.”
A soft knock came from the door. Alexandra took the bowl of warm water, towels, and bandages from the waiting maid, then dismissed her.
Nick settled in the wingback chair. When Alexandra came to him, he tilted his head back, and she saw the pulse at his throat. She wanted to touch it, press her lips to it. Perhaps his heartbeat held answers, depending on whether it raced or slowed at the closeness of her. That was real.
“Do you wish you could forget?” She didn’t know if he was asking about their intimacy, or everything—meeting him at all.
Yes, she almost said. But, then:No.
Never.
“Do you want the answer to that question?” she asked instead.
Didn’t he understand that she couldn’t do this again? That she couldn’t give him another glimpse into her heart? The pieces had taken her so long to put back together; she had painstakingly placed them day after day, month after month, year after year. And like anything repaired after being shattered, it was more fragile than ever.
