Page 22 of A Rogue for Christmas
He shifted onto his side, enjoying the way she came with him and settled into his embrace.
Her fingers traced over his back, his hip, and then she dropped a kiss onto his chest and looked up at him.
“Thank you, Harry. I hope…” She looked away, and he waited. Finally, after taking a deep breath, she met his gaze again. “When we leave here, I hope you think of me fondly from time to time.”
He rolled over her again, caging her body under his as he stared into her eyes.
“I’m not even close to being done with you.”
CHAPTER12
Iris woke with a smile on her face. Last night had been glorious. Despite the fact they’d only made love once—she’d told him she was too sore to do so again—he’d spent most of the night with her.
He’d slipped out just before dawn, dropping a kiss onto her forehead before leaving.
She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow that still smelled like him. She couldn’t name the scent, but it was now her favorite.
She’d been dreaming of him before she woke, and she closed her eyes, trying to recapture the final images. They were back in that garden where they’d met, and he was saying something to her…
Her eyes sprang open. He’d told her that he loved her in the dream. Even worse, she’d vowed that she would never love another man.
She sprang from the bed and stared down at the mussed sheets in horror.
She was in love with Wentworth.
She began to pace. This was terrible. They would only have one more night together, and then they’d both be leaving. Her to join her family in celebrating Christmas with Lily at Seaford’s estate and him to London.
And other women.
No, this wouldn’t do. She couldn’t be in love with the man. She was behaving like any other sentimental young fool. Her emotions were all tangled up because Wentworth had been kind to her, passionate, and generous.
And no man would ever be able to compete.
She’d made a terrible mistake.
She sank down onto the bed again and reached for his pillow, hugging it to her chest. No, it hadn’t been a mistake. Unwise, perhaps, but she didn’t regret being with him.
But one thing was painfully clear—she couldn’t spend another night with him. Her heart already ached with the knowledge she couldn’t have him. If she allowed herself to spend another night with him, her heart would never recover.
CHAPTER13
Iris was avoiding him, and he didn’t know why.
After spending most of the day apart, she’d been distant with him over dinner. Cordial. Polite.
He hated it.
When the meal was over, he watched her leave the dining room with the other women. Then he rose and rounded the table. He approached Thornton, then Seaford, and inclined his head to one side of the room.
They weren’t alone, but he no longer cared about discretion. If the others wanted to listen in on their conversation, they were welcome. “Iris is ignoring me,” he said.
Thornton frowned. “What did you do?”
“Nothing!” He winced. He lowered his voice so it was barely above a whisper before adding, “We were together last night, but I swear upon my honor that it was consensual.Sheinvitedmeto her bedchamber.”
Seaford raised one brow. “And?”
“It was glorious. Incredible. The best night of my life. But now she’s barely speaking to me, and I don’t understand why.”
