Page 44 of The Danger of Desire
Not a chance. She heard the carriage door open, heard him vault out after her, but she was quicker than he and she knew the backyard well. She’d already found the unlocked window and slipped inside the house before he’d even made it past the back gate.
Sure that the darkness had hidden her entry place from him, she stood by the window, heart pounding, listening for him to leave. What if he didn’t? What if he roused her aunt and demanded answers of her?
The fear of that reminded Delia that her waistcoat still hung open. As she buttoned it up, her hand accidentally brushed the damp spot on her shirt where he’d sucked her nipple through the fabric. She stifled a groan. Thank heaven their mad interlude had been interrupted. It could never have led to anything but her ruin.
Oh, but part of her wouldn’t mind being ruined. Indeed, she was surprised more women weren’t ruined regularly.
She heard him mutter a curse just outside, and her pulse jumped.
“Come out for a moment, Delia,” he said in a low voice, so near that she caught her breath. “I know you’re in there, and we haven’t finished our discussion.”
Bother the man. Could he actually hear the beating of her heart, the heavy breaths she strove futilely to restrain? Of course he couldn’t—that was silly.
And thank heaven Flossie had apparently abandoned her usual habit of waiting by the window for Delia’s return, or the cat would surely have yowled at him. Or perhaps not, given his perverse effect on every female within his orbit.
His voice sounded again, husky and deep and so tempting, it made her ache. “We’re not done, Delia Trevor. Youwilltell me your secrets one day soon. Or I will find them out on my own, I swear.”
A shiver swept through her. A shiver of alarm, of course. Not of anticipation of their next battle, their next encounter. That would be daft.
He was making her daft.
She heard his footsteps recede, heard the carriage leave. Only then did she make her slow and stealthy way through the house, as she’d done many a night before.
This time she’d cut it rather close, and it was all his fault. It had to be near dawn. If she weren’t careful, she’d run into the servants coming to light the bedchamber fires. And Aunt Agatha always rose early, too, with Brilliana not far behind. They both thought Delia quite a layabed for her late rising.
Increasing her pace down the hall, she nearly wept with relief when she reached the door to her room. At last this interminable night was over.
A meow from the floor alerted her to Flossie’s presence.
“Shh, puss,” Delia whispered as she bent to pick up her pet. “Was I too late? You got tired of waiting?”
Cuddling the purring cat close, Delia slipped inside her room.
“Where on earth have you been?”
Delia jumped and nearly screamed before she caught herself.
Not that stifling her cry would save her from retribution. Because sitting on the bed was her sister-in-law, her eyes red, her nose swollen, and her mouth thinned with worry.
Brilliana rose and picked up the candle burning low on the bedside table. “And why in heaven’s name are you wearingthat?”
Blast. Delia had forgotten about her men’s attire.
Apparently, her interminable night wasn’t over after all.
Eleven
Slowly Warren returned to where his coach waited in the mews. He was still aroused from their utterly unwise intimacies. That had been too close, too reckless. She hadn’t stopped him; he hadn’t stopped. If they hadn’t arrived at her aunt’s house, who knew what might have happened?
“Home, my lord?” the coachman asked as Warren reached the coach.
“You go on. I’ll walk to wherever I wish to go.”
“Very good, my lord.”
As the carriage pulled away, Warren turned back to look at the Pensworth town house. Truth was, he didn’t know where he wished to go next. By the wee hours of the morning he usuallywasheading home, since his nightmares fled once the sun rose to flood his bedchamber with light.
But right now, the thought of entering his large and silent abode and climbing the stairs to his bedchamber with its cavernous, empty bed struck him as so lonely he could hardly bear it.
