Page 72 of When a Duke Loves a Woman
She nudged her shoulder against his. “You’re being modest. I’d wager you’ve fallen in love a half dozen times at least.”
“Not even once.”
Shifting her backside, she twisted in order to see him more clearly. Even with only the dimmest of lighting, she could make out his features, perhaps because she had memorized them so thoroughly. “I know you didn’t love the woman you were going to marry, but surely in your youth, there was someone.”
“No.” His voice was low but absent of pity. “To be honest, Gillie, I don’t know if I have it within me to love. At some point, I loved my mother. I must have. It is a child’s inclination to do so, but she has always been unapproachable and I viewed her from a distance. I was closer to my father, but he was strict and demanding... and then he went mad.”
She was stunned. He couldn’t mean what she thought he did. “You mean insane?”
“Indeed. I wasn’t quite ten, but I recall him ranting and raving, terrifying in his madness, until Mother would have the servants lock him in his rooms. I seldom was allowed to visit with him, but when he was on his deathbed, I noticed scars about his wrists, so I suspect there were times they tied him down to prevent him from harming himself or others.”
She retook his hand and squeezed. “Oh, Thorne, I’m so sorry.”
“It was long ago but between the two of them, I learned love disappoints. And it was drilled into me that I would marry for land, not love. I’ve liked women, Gillie. I’ve liked some of them a great deal, but love seems to involve a good deal more than simply liking.”
“It requires sacrifice.” With another sigh, she placed her head back on his shoulder. “I’ve never loved anyone either, at least no one beyond family. Now I don’t want to love a gent because it would mean sacrificing my tavern.”
“Makes us rather perfect for each other, then doesn’t it?”
Perfect and yet imperfect. She lifted her head. “You are a danger to my heart.”
“No more than you are to mine.”
When he took her mouth, she banked her fears, her trepidations, and welcomed him as though it were impossible that they might ever hurt each other. The future ceased to exist, to concern her. All that mattered was the present, this moment, now. The way her body tightened with need, every cell reaching for him because he alone could provide the sustenance needed for continued existence.
It was sinfully sweet, the riotous sensations that bombarded her and swept through her like an overzealous storm that pelted the earth. Any wise woman would seek shelter, and yet she knew she could find no better refuge than within the circle of his arms.
Cradling her breast, kneading it gently, he emitted a feral growl, one of ownership and possession. The orb she’d always considered such a bother tightened and grew heavy, sending sparks of pleasure throughout her, and she understood at last the value of silk over binding. Binding would have prevented him from squeezing, from testing the pliancy. The silk rubbed over her nipple, not abrading but teasing, causing it to pucker. She’d worn clothing like a shield; now she merely wanted to be liberated and thought he would be extremely skilled at liberating.
Drawing back, he pressed his forehead to hers. “You make me forget myself.”
Which seemed a lovely compliment indeed. “The fog is creating a chill. Would you like to come inside?”
Leaning away, he touched his knuckles to her cheek. “If I come inside, Gillie, we’re going to do a good deal more than kiss.”
She knew that, of course. She needed to reassure him that she did, but the tongue that had been working so well during their kiss suddenly seemed too weary to form another coherent word.
“Let’s get you inside,” he said. She didn’t hear disappointment in his voice, but rather understanding. He knew she had trepidations, had never gone this far with a man.
She wanted what he was offering, and yet she couldn’t quite divest herself of all the warnings that had been preached at her over the years, Beast’s the loudest of all:Take care with your heart.If Thorne came into her apartment, her heart would definitely be at risk.
He stood and pulled her to her feet. “I’m a patient man,” he said.
He unlocked her door, opened it, and bussed a quick kiss over her swollen lips before giving her a nudge indoors. She was even slower to turn the lock than she’d been the night before, but turn it she did, eventually.
And later, lay in bed, staring at the shadows dancing over the ceiling, wishing she hadn’t.
Chapter 19
“Caw, blimey! Look at his neck, Gillie. It’s the longest ever!”
She certainly couldn’t argue with Robin’s comment regarding the giraffe. He’d made some keen observation about every animal they’d seen thus far, while she’d barely noticed them because her hand was tucked snugly within the crook of Thorne’s arm, his other hand resting on it as though he intended to keep it there until the end of time.
He was without his walking stick, his limp negligible. If her eyes didn’t fairly devour him every time he made an appearance in her life, she might not have noticed the limp at all, but from the moment she’d turned to find him stretched out on her table in the buff, not the smallest detail about him had gone unobserved. So she knew his hair had been trimmed and a razor recently taken to his face. She was also fairly certain his dark blue jacket and silver brocade waistcoat were recently purchased. The material of both was too bold and bright to have seen the wash even once. His gray neck cloth was knotted in a way that had it flowing into and behind the waistcoat with a single red teardrop pin to hold it in place. His beaver hat was not new, but he looked dapper just the same.
Her clothing from the pale blue blouse to the dark blue skirt and all the silk and lace that resided beneath it was new. She’d spent the afternoon before visiting a dress shop where she had once threatened to geld the former troublesome shop owner if he continued to insist the monthly rent was accompanied by more intimate favors. As Ettie Trewlove had given birth to a daughter out of wedlock due to the manner in which a nefarious landlord collected his rent, her brothers were always keen to put the fear of Trewlove retribution into those who took advantage. After a visit from them, the landlord had decided it was in his best interest to sell the shop to the dressmaker. Hence, the woman had been only too willing to ensure Gillie had something new to wear on her outing. It wasn’t fancy, lacking ribbons and bows, but not a single spot on it was frayed or worn. Thorne had seemed to notice, which pleased her.
Then he had handed her a slim box, and inside she’d found the finest pair of kidskin gloves she’d ever seen. She never thought to wear gloves, but of course a lady on an outing with a gentleman needed to ensure her skin never touched his. While she’d considered the gift too personal, she’d not been able to refuse it. Although now she did regret more material separated the heat of his hand from hers.
