Page 13 of His Wicked Embrace
He carefully moved his hand from her thigh and reached up to stroke his palm over the dark coiling locks that tumbled down her back. She didn’t stir as he continued to play with the gleaming spools of herhair.
Memories of last night slowly returned, and he fought off a shudder. She’d seen her parents murdered…and then she was sold into slavery. She’d endured hell itself and was still alive, stillsane.
My God…What was he going to do? She couldn’t go home—it was too dangerous. But what could she do here? Zehra was the most stunning creature he had ever beheld and would make any man a fine mistress, but she deserved more than simply being kept by some man, especially given her past. She was no one’s pet. And she should never be forced to do anything she didn’t wish todo.
He studied her delicate features, the small upturned nose, high cheekbones, and dainty chin. Despite her fine Persian features, there was something arrestingly familiar, almost English about her, but he couldn’t say what. Something prickled at the back of his mind, but he still couldn’t figure out why looking at her caused a stirring insidehim.
He brushed her hair back from her neck and caught a glimpse of something he hadn’t seen last night. A golden chain hung around her neck. He traced the chain down to a thumb-sized locket that rested on the swell of her breasts. He lifted it up and examined it more closely. The scrollwork on the crest was familiar, giving a faint tug on hismemory.
He began to open the locket but then froze. Guilt crept through him on stealthy paws. No doubt it held portraits of her parents and was the only thing she had left of them. It would be wrong to intrude upon such a memory uninvited. He laid the pendant back down and removed his hand. It was odd. He’d never worried about a woman like this before. Seduction had been a game and the woman theprize.
Yet nothing about Zehra was simple, and she was no prize to be won. He was tempted beyond imagining to seduce her, but he refused to be such a callous bastard. Imagining himself in her place for but a moment squelched any such urges, though not the passions that had kindledthem.
I must be a man she cantrust.
Lawrence waited several long moments, enjoying her quiet breathing and the simple feel of her body against his. She’d slept through the remainder of the night without fear or dreams as far as he could tell, and he had no desire to disturbher.
The door to his bedchamber opened, and his valet, George, peered in. Lawrence gave the man a small nod, and he crept into the room to see to his duties as quietly as possible. Only then did Lawrence, regretfully, slip out of bed. He tucked Zehra beneath the blankets, pausing to admire her exquisitebeauty.
“Sleeping like a lamb, that one.” George chuckled as he and Lawrence stepped into the dressing room, where George was preparing a bath forhim.
“Indeed. She needs it, poor thing.” Lawrence stripped out of hisclothing.
His valet cleared his throat. “Is it…er…true, what Mr. MacTavish said about her, sir? That she came from the White House? She doesn’t look like a—” George blushed to the roots of hishair.
“That’s because sheisn’t.” Lawrence didn’t want Zehra to be treated like anything other than the princess she seemed to be. “Treat her like royalty. Anything she needs, see that she hasit.”
“Of course.” George bowed. “I’ll lay out your clothes and return when you’re ready to dress, unless you need anythingelse?”
“Thank you. I’ll be fine.” Lawrence hummed softly as he eased into the copper bathtub, sighing as hot water relaxed his stiffmuscles.
Last evening had been a tense affair, and until this moment he hadn’t truly relaxed. Even his sleep had been fraught with memories of the auction and raid, and his current concerns were far from over. It was only a matter of time before his younger brother, Avery, came storming through the front door accusing him of the very crime he was supposed to helpstop.
That thought ruined his perfectly good bath. He hastily scrubbed his body and washed his hair before climbing out and shaving, feeling vexed the entire time. Once he was done, he gathered the clothes that George had left him. He had just pulled on his trousers when Zehra appeared in the doorway, wearing her chemise and a blanket wrapped around hershoulders.
Her eyes trailed down his body, then back up, before her face darkened with an enchanting blush. He couldn’t help but grin. He’d never been ashamed of his body, and he was aware that women found him attractive. He took after his elder brother, Lucien, in that and other things. They’d both spent years bedding enough women to make Don Juan blush, and he had escaped more than one forced trip to the altar by the skin of histeeth.
“Everything all right?” he asked, staying a safe distance from her. The last thing he wanted was to scare her after everything she’d beenthrough.
“Yes. I woke to find you gone and…” She was still red-faced as she clutched the blanket tight around her. Her dark hair was unbound and fell around her shoulders in waves. He couldn’t forget the feel of his fingers sliding through those thick, glossy strands. He wanted so desperately to fist his hand in her hair and pull her head back for a kiss. His body tightened, and he forced himself to ignore his arousal, which was damned nearimpossible.
“I would never leave you alone. My entire staff is here if you ever feel for a moment that you are afraidor…”
“I’m not afraid,” she interjected. Her eyes flashed with defiant fire. “After everything I’ve seen… I am notafraid.”
He didn’t correct her by saying that even a brave soul could experience fear. As he’d once heard his father say, bravery was not the absence of fear, but having the courage to face it. She seemed ready to face hell itself, because she had already been throughit.
“If you like, we can have breakfast in the dining room downstairs in an hour. My servants will have a fresh bath prepared foryou.”
“Here?” she asked, glancing about his dressingroom.
“Er…yes, or the room across the hall, if you wish it. I do not know what your customs might require, but I will do my best to accommodateyou.”
Her mysterious eyes settled on him again, and she nodded. “I shall bathehere.”
It shouldn’t have pleased him, but it did. He did not typically like the idea of sharing his space with anyone, let alone a woman. Before, he’d kept his lovers in fancy houses across town, avoiding the long-term intimacy that came from shared spaces. Yet with Zehra, he wanted her close and within arm’s reach. Even across the hall seemed too far away. He told himself it was only because of his concern for her safety, and yet part of him called him out as aliar.
“Give me but a moment. I will finish dressing and send up footmen to draw fresh water.” Picturing Zehra naked in the copper tub made him burn, and he would have to leave the room or else face that temptationagain.
