Page 22 of When He Was Wicked
She pressed a finger to her lips. “I was not thinking, James!”
The look on his face made her want to disappear. What had she been thinking? But that was the problem wasn’t it? Often she did not think, acting on sheer impulse.
“Think nothing of it,” he said gruffly walking a few paces from her. “The element of surprise is always good. You caught me off guard and you escaped. Well done.” He glanced around. “This session is over. Good night, Lady Verity.”
Then he walked away, leaving her standing there like a fool. Dear God, surely, he would terminate their agreement. Why had she been so foolish and impulsive? And now there would be a terrible, awful tension between them if he would ever agree to another session.
Verity wasn’t certain how long she stood there before darting through the door, and down the hallway. At the base of the stairs she glanced up to see him just reaching the landing to the second floor. She hurried after him, panting slightly, ignoring the aching in her muscles. A door closed in the distance and she made her way to it, lifting her hand to knock.
It was highly improper, her conscience warned her. Surely this was his bedchamber. But she had to talk to him. The manner in which he had dismissed her did not bode well, andshe had to convince him it was an aberration, and it wouldneverhappen again. And certainly, standing in the doorway of a man’s chamber and talking to him, could not be more indecent and scandalous than that man teaching her to fight!
Verity knocked on the door and waited. When no answer came, she knocked again. After a few more moments, impatience and anxiety had her testing the door. It eased open under her palm, and she faltered into remarkable stillness.
Her chest went so tight, she could scarcely breathe. James was naked!
His thighs and calves were thick and powerful, stomach and buttocks lean and delineated with muscle.I am staring at a naked man. Her heart thrummed painfully hard and her entire body tingled. Dear heaven, she had never felt like this before.
She must have made a sound, for he glanced around, and their gazes collided. It was the earl’s turn to freeze and it was as if he turned into a marble. A multitude of emotions flickered over his face before it became impassive. Yet he made no move to grab for a banyan or his clothes. The doorknob slipped from her nerveless fingers, and Verity turned and ran as if rabid dogs chased her. Her response had been too strong, too frightening, and she wanted only to hide away.
She dashed into the room assigned to her, made her way behind the screen, and started to remove the small shirt and trousers with trembling hands. Verity paused and rang the bell for Grace. Oh God, what had she been thinking to follow him? The maid arrived and a few minutes later Verity was once more garbed in her chemise, pantaloons, petticoats, and her dark green gown. Her hair was fixed and her small dark hat and veil once more covered her features.
She fought for a sense of calm, hating how heated her cheeks and entire body felt. What must he think of her? And why had he not followed her? Why had he not berated her for the kiss?Verity wasn’t certain she wanted the answer to those questions, but she could not leave without an apology. Her sleep would be haunted. And she absolutely must know if they were to continue with lessons.
She made her way downstairs, and paused at the base of the stairs, gripping the carved mahogany railing. This time she would await an answer before daring to open his door. In fact, she would wait for him to come to her. Perhaps in the drawing room.
“His lordship is in the library,” a bland voice said from behind her.
She turned. “Thank you, Fenton,” she said to the butler with a nod, then sauntered toward the library. Once there she knocked.
“Come.”
She opened the door and slipped inside. “I apologize, my lord. I was not thinking, and I ask you not to be upset—”
He turned around with such fierceness, she stumbled back. But it wasn’t fear that filled her. Verity’s belly went hot and her knees weak at the expression of raw desire on his face.He wants me. A hand fluttered to her mouth as she stared at him with ill-concealed shock. Breathing was nearly impossible as she waited for him to move, to say something, for she was robbed of further speech. He was singularly inappropriate to be a romantic interest. He was too big…too vital, too dominant. So why did she feel so breathless…so achy with unfathomable need?
Finally, he said, “I believed you had left, Lady Verity. I thought the sight of my nudity would have chased you all the way to Grosvenor Square and beset your nerves for the rest of the week.”
The room suddenly seemed to be without air.
“I…no, I had to change first,” she said inanely.
“Of course, how remiss of me.”
They stood there, holding each other’s gaze, and the tension in the air felt fraught with such peril she trembled.
His eyes sharpened. “Are you afraid?”
It took her a moment to answer. “Of you?”
His regard was too steady to be comfortable. “Yes.”
“Of course not, my lord.”
He glanced away briefly, but she’d spied the stark flash of relief in his beautiful eyes. His regard settled on her once more. “You’ll always be safe with me. I apologize if I scared you earlier when I held you down. It was ungentlemanly of me knowing of your past. I will endeavor to ask permission whenever I wish to impart such lessons.”
Something cold melted inside of Verity. “Thank you, but an apology is unnecessary. I was not afraid. Not once. And I am heartened to know our lessons will continue,” she said softly, fighting the ridiculous need to walk into his arms.
She did it anyway, and hugged him, ignoring his soft grunt of surprise. There was no logical explanation for why she did it. It was improper, and intimate. Yet she hugged him fiercely, distantly aware of the fine trembling in her frame.
