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Breathe. ‘I know a lost cause when I see it,’ Thea said, her voice steady. The pressure on her leg had become a series of short, stroking movements, moving the fine lawn of her chemise back and forth over the bare skin beneath, the silk of her petticoat sliding against the thin fabric of her gown. The friction made a soft whispering sound, almost too faint to hear.
‘You meet him, then? Or was that just a figure of speech?’
‘I see him occasionally,’ Thea admitted incautiously. ‘We do not mix socially.’ The pressure of Rhys’s fingers was making it hard to think. She pulled her hand away and realised too soon that doing so left his big hand firmly on her thigh. He began a slow caress down as far as her knee, and then up, her skirts riding with the movement. ‘Rhys!’
‘Do you not like it? Am I tickling you?’
‘No. I am not ticklish.’
‘You are, unless my memory is very far at fault.’ Rhys’s chuckle brought her round to glare at him. ‘Relax, Thea, I am not going to tickle your ribs in a chaise in broad daylight.’ Somehow his hand had curved to cup the top of her leg and his fingertips were caressing the inner surface. The chemise had ridden up and there was only fine lawn and thin silk between his hand and her skin.
Her breath was coming short now. She turned her head on the squabs so she was looking out of the window again, the perfect picture of a well-bred lady interested only in the passing scene.
‘Rhys.’ She should move. She should slap his hand away. This was broad daylight on a public highway, for goodness’ sake! His hand felt wonderful. Sure, confident, skilled in administering this focused sensual torture.
‘I am thinking how I would like to caress you when we are naked in bed again,’ Rhys said. She shot him a startled glance, but he was turned towards the window on his side. To anyone looking in they would appear detached, conversing lightly on matters of no importance.
‘I will start with your toes, I think.’ He sounded thoughtful. Her toes curled in the tight little nankeen boots she wore. ‘Then I will kiss all the way up to the back of your knees. I wonder if you are ticklish there. Are you, Thea?’
‘I do not know,’ she managed to gasp. His fingers were brushing high to the junction of her thighs now. She pressed them together and somehow that only made the heat and the throbbing worse.
‘We must find out.’ That wicked chuckle again. ‘Then I will lick and kiss and nibble my way along here.’ One finger traced a wandering path from her knee up the quivering length of her thigh to the point of the delicious discomfort. ‘To the delta of Venus.’
‘Delta?’
Rhys placed both thumbs tip to tip, then joined his forefingers into a triangle. ‘The Greek letter delta, that mound covered in curls that hides the honeyed secrets of a woman’s desire.’ Thea bit down on a moan. ‘Then I will part those soft white thighs and kiss—’
‘Kiss?’ It was more of a squeak than a word. ‘Rhys, if you do not stop this minute I am going to... I do not know, but I should not be doing whatever it is in a chaise!’
He lifted his hand and caught hers. ‘You are right, of course. I do not think I can stand it, either—see what you have done to me.’ He laid her unresisting hand against the falls of his breeches, then groaned as she reflexively tightened her grip on the blatant erection that pressed itself into her fingers.
Thea snatched her hand away, face burning, insides quivering with mingled desire and terror. ‘Is this normal?’
‘Perfectly. What we are feeling is simply desire, what any man and woman who are sexually attracted feel. Normal, healthy and decidedly uncomfortable under the circumstances.’
‘Well, there is nothing to be done about it here.’ Thea retreated into her corner and crossed her legs. It did nothing to subdue the desire to throw herself on Rhys’s chest and kiss him senseless.
‘There is, if you were a little less innocent. Don’t look at me like that, I promise to behave. And I also promise,’ he added grimly, ‘to find a way to be with you tonight if I have to feed that maid of yours a sleeping draught to do it.’
‘As long as she does not have to sleep in my dressing room, or on a truckle bed in my bedchamber, then I will tell her I do not want to be disturbed until morning and lock the door,’ Thea said firmly. ‘And you must come to me.’
‘But of course,’ Rhys agreed. ‘A gentleman can do nothing else.’
Chapter Fourteen
Polly put down the hairbrush and began to tidy the small disorder on the dressing table.
Now, how to convince her not to come into my room tonight without sounding suspicious...?
‘Will you be requiring me again this evening, my lady?’
Thea looked in the mirror and saw the maid was positively blushing. ‘I do not think so. I was going to read for a while before I went to bed, but I doubt I will stay up long.’ The clock outside on the landing of the top floor of the inn struck ten o’clock. ‘Why, Polly? Are you tired, too?’
‘No, my lady. I thought... That is, Mr Hodge suggested... There’s a fair down by the waterside. I’d like to go and see it.’
‘With Hodge.’
‘Yes, my lady.’
Goodness, Rhys had been right after all. My maid and his valet. ‘Are you and Hodge courting, Polly?’
‘I think so, my lady. Do you mind? I mean, I don’t know what you think about followers.’
‘Hodge is not so much following as travelling with us, isn’t he?’ Polly giggled at the feeble joke. ‘I have no objection, although it really is a matter for Lord Palgrave, as he employs you both. Here, take this in case there is anything to tempt you.’ She handed the girl the loose change that lay on the dressing table. ‘Have a good time and be back by midnight. I will lock my door as there are other guests on the floor below us, so do not disturb me when you return, will you?’
‘Oh, thank you, my lady! I won’t disturb you, I promise.’ Polly folded away the last items of clothing, turned down the bed and positively skipped out of the room.
Everything had conspired to smooth her path this evening. Their rooms were spread over the topmost floor of the inn, with no other guests on that level. They were spacious and well appointed, but there were no dressing rooms, so both Hodge and Polly had their own bedchambers at the far end of the corridor, while Rhys’s was separated from her room by what Polly told her was the large linen store. Giles was on her other side.
Thea had pleaded tiredness after dinner so she could retreat and not have to sit making general conversation while Rhys looked at her, his lids heavy over those hot blue eyes. It had been bad enough over dinner, but she was quite certain she could not remain calm with nothing to distract her.
When would he come? She studied her reflection in the glass, her confidence diminishing by the second. What on earth was it that Rhys found so desirable about her? Perhaps she should snuff out some of the candles....
Their rooms were quiet and faced the back of the inn, not the yard or the busy street. The silence was broken by a dull thump from outside as though something had fallen. Thea caught her night robe tight around her and went to ease open the shutters onto the balcony. Was that a faint curse from somewhere outside?
The moon was half-full, the sky clear and, as she glanced up, she caught her breath at the blaze of stars. Then a gleam of white to her left caught her eye. ‘Rhys!’ He was standing on his own balcony’s parapet and by his foot was a black hole where a stone should have been.
‘Damn thing fell off,’ he whispered.
‘Go back, then, it isn’t safe,’ she hissed back. ‘Come in through the door, for goodness’ sake!’
‘Less chance of being seen this way.’ He shifted his balance and jumped the four feet to the intervening balustrade and then down to the balcony itself.
Thea removed her hands from her mouth where she had clamped them to hold in the scream and peered at the stonework. ‘This looks in very bad repair.’
‘Stand back.’ Rhys climbed onto the edge, and the stone beneath his feet rocked.
Thea fought the instinct to try to reach for him and retreated to the far side. Rhys jumped, the stone teetered but stayed put and he landed and jumped down with perfect grace.
‘You idiotic man,’ she scolded.
‘I thought it would be a romantic gesture.’ He held the shutter for her, then followed her into the room. ‘Is the door shut? No?’ He strode across and locked it.
‘Romantic? You don’t have a romantic bone in your body.’ Thea plumped down on the dressing-table stool and tried to recover her breath. ‘I thought you would fall off—and a mangled lover at the foot of the wall is not at all romantic.’
He grinned, unrepentant, and began to brush dust and lichen off his evening breeches, which were all he appeared to be wearing apart from his shirt, open necked. ‘I should have put riding breeches on,’ he observed. ‘Lord knows what Hodge is going to make of these.’
‘He has gone to the fair and taken Polly. Did you realise?’
‘It was my idea.’ Rhys looked smug. ‘I suggested he might like the evening off and he jumped at the chance. He even managed to keep a straight face while remarking that Polly might welcome the outing.’ He strolled towards her with what seemed dangerously like a prowl. ‘Why are we bickering about the way I arrived here and discussing our servants’ love lives, Thea?’
