Page 71 of One Night with a Prince
Hardly realizing he did so, he tightened his grip on her. “We enjoy each other,” he said fiercely. “We share a bed, we play whist, and we—”
“I mean later. After this is over.”
“Nothing will change. You’ll still be my mistress and share my bed.”
She was silent a moment. “For how long?”
Damn her for asking that. Why did women always have to anticipate the end? “For however long we both want.”
“But Byrne—”
“Enough,” he broke in, covering her mouth with his hand. “Just let it be what it is for a while, all right? Can’t you do that?”
She shifted to gaze up at him, her eyes glimmering with tears, but she nodded. He let go of her mouth. “Good.” He bent his head to kiss her, but she pressed him back.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“I don’t know, four-thirty. Five. Why?”
“We should go look for the letters,” she whispered.
For half a second, he thought she meant his French letters. Then it dawned on him what she was talking about, and a groan escaped his lips.
He really was far gone, to forget the very thing he’d come here to gain. That’s what came of letting a woman get under one’s skin.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlHe glanced at the clock. “It’s nearly 5:00A.M . The servants will be stirring.”
“But we could wait until they’ve finished in the public rooms, then still have time to search the study or library while everyone is abed.”
“I suppose,” he said noncommittally. The truth was, he doubted they would ever find those letters by searching Stokely’s huge mansion. They’d be better off trying to strike a deal with the arse. No,he would be better off striking a deal. He still meant to gain those letters for himself. It shouldn’t matter to her in the long run—after he got what he wanted from Prinny, he would return them. But he could only bargain with Stokely if he knew what was in them, knew their worth. He pressed his lips to her forehead, then nuzzled her hair. “How many letters are there exactly?” He kissed a path to her ear, which he then caressed with the tip of his tongue until he felt her sigh beneath him. “How large a packet are we looking for?”
“I don’t…know. Ten…twenty…not large.”
Covering her lush breast with his hand, he kneaded the nipple until it hardened to a fine point. “Is it bound with anything? Like string or ribbon?”
“A…a…yellow ribbon. I think.”
He nibbled her ear. “I assume the letters are from your father to someone. A friend? The prince himself?”
Stiffening, she pushed him back. “You’re trying to seduce me into telling you what’s in them.”
Damn her for being too clever—and wary—for him. “I’m trying to seduce you, yes. But I don’t care what you tell me about the letters.”
“Liar.” She stared at him with an accusing gaze. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Try all you wish—I’m not going to tell you.”
Not now, anyway. He hovered over her, a faint smile touching his lips. “Does that mean you won’t let me seduce you either?”
The sudden spark of heat in her was unmistakable. “We should sleep,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.
He bent his head to nuzzle her breast, then dragged his tongue over the nipple until she gasped. “We can sleep later,” he said hoarsely. Then he added, “I’ll be right back,” and left the bed to find his French letters.
But by the time he returned to the bed, her eyes had drifted shut and her slow, even breathing signaled the end to tonight’s lovemaking. He tossed the French letters on the bedside table with a rueful sigh. No matter; there was always morning. And tomorrow night. And the night after that. For how long?
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlHe shoved that question from his mind. But after he climbed into bed beside her, and was drifting off to sleep, it returned to haunt him.For how long?
Chapter Sixteen
Do not trust anything your lover’s former
