Page 36 of A Lady's Heart Deceived
Piers could have wept as he took in her sad, red-rimmed eyes, the clear evidence of her heartache.
That bastard made her suffer, and he is still hurting her.
He took two hesitant, faltering steps into the room. Coming in here was crossing one of the immutable boundaries of polite society’s hard and fast rules. Unwed couples did not spend time together in private rooms—not unless they were prepared to accept the consequences.
If the Bishop of London had the slightest notion that his daughter had been travelling for days with Piers in his private coach, he would be on the doorstep of Denford House the second Piers returned to London, demanding that he offer for Maggie’s hand in marriage. The fact that he supposedly had a fiancée waiting in the wings wouldn’t matter.
Maggie Denford—now there is an appealing name.
It took a great deal of effort for him to push the enticing thought away. If the day ever came that he could freely consider marriage, Maggie would be at the top of his list of potential brides.
But now that she knows the truth, Maggie won’t remain in her mourning any longer. Which means she will rejoin society. And a beautiful woman like her will be a prized catch for any man.
She shifted on the bed, breaking him out of his daze. Before he could register what was happening, she had crossed the floor and thrown herself into his arms. Piers wrapped her up in his embrace, not caring if anyone saw them or what they might think.
“Maggie.” He brushed his hand over her long dark tresses, smoothing out the crinkles. Over her head, he spied the rumpled bed covers. She must have cried herself to sleep sometime earlier.
“Thank you for being here. I wasn’t sure whether you were going to come or not,” she said.
“I went for a walk; it ended up being longer than planned. Needed to clear my head somewhat. It’s been quite a day.”
She drew out of his embrace and headed to the door. To Piers’s surprise, Maggie closed and locked it.
“The maid Elizabeth assigned to me is a lovely girl, but she does have an annoying habit of barely knocking before she comes into the room. I would hate to have to explain this to her or her mistress.”
Piers scowled, unsure of what she meant. He had deliberately left the door open for the sake of respectability; but it was Maggie who had closed it. “I don’t understand.”
She returned to where he was, coming to a halt barely half a foot away. Lifting her head, she met his gaze. “I could explain with words, but I’d rather you just hold me.”
This isn’t wise. It could bring me a world of trouble.
Maggie took a hold of the front of his jacket and pulled herself hard against him, sweeping Piers’s brief moment of self-doubt and hesitancy aside, “Please, just hold me,” she breathed.
A more honorable man would protest. Cite his fiancée as being reason enough not to touch another woman.
Who are you kidding? You have wanted this from the first moment you met her.
Piers silently thanked Lady Dinah Gibney for having taken the initiative and found someone else. He couldn’t feel guilty over being alone with Maggie if his former fiancée had fallen in love with another man.
But he didn’t want to just hold her. And from the way her fingers rested against his chest, he suspected he wasn’t alone in this moment of wavering strength.
When he met Maggie’s stunning blue eyes, Piers knew the energy between them had shifted. “Piers,” she whispered.
A man only had so much power over himself. A finite length to the tether of his self-control. His was badly frayed at the end and ready to snap.
Days of being close to Maggie, of constant temptation, slipped away as Piers cupped his hand under her nape and lowered his head. Their lips brushed for a mere second, then he drew back. Today had been enough of a trial for them both; the last thing he wanted was for her to suddenly pull out of his embrace and tell him it had all been a terrible mistake. That she had only been seeking comfort.
To his bone-deep relief, Maggie kissed him back.
Her soft, pliant lips brushed against his over and over. He groaned when she opened her mouth, inviting him to deepen the encounter.
Her response informed him that Maggie had been thoroughly kissed before by someone else. Piers fought against the surge of jealousy that came with knowing he wasn’t her first. Even as their tongues danced elegantly together, he wrestled with his hatred of Robert.
And himself.
He was alone in the bedroom of a vulnerable young woman, taking advantage of her. Kissing her when he had no right. Taking what she offered when, to all the world, and especially her, he still had a fiancée.
You are little better than him. A liar and a cad. Stealing kisses under false pretenses.
