Page 35 of Broken

Lilly stood to leave the table and, instead of letting her go alone, they adjourned to the quiet of the library. Attended by two footmen and the silly maids, Giles regained his sense of humor. Servant chaperones, how quaint and ineffective. If he had wanted to sin, he had ample opportunities to run his hands into Lilly’s hills and valleys each night as he massaged her.

At night, Giles could smell her scent quite clearly as his hands pressed into her derriere to relieve the day’s built-up tension. Lilly for her part seemed to lap up every scrap of his attention.

Giles snapped up a deck of cards as a distraction from his wicked thoughts and taught Lilly the rudiments of vingt-et-un. As he had gathered, she had only limited experience with a deck, and they spoke about the other games popular in London. He considered playing a hand, but then Lilly covered her mouth and yawned.

“You should have mentioned you were tired, Lilly. We can play tomorrow if you wish. Let’s get you up to bed before you fall asleep here.”

“It is a nice room,” she murmured as he drew her to her feet. The lemon scent tugged at his senses and inflamed his body. He hoped she didn’t notice he walked with an odd hitch to his step.

At the bottom of the stairs, he swung her into his arms despite her protests. “Shh. Let me take care of you.”

Lilly held his gaze a moment then twined her arm around his neck. Giles’ cravat grew tight. Her fingertips brushed into the bottom of his hair and excitement raced down his spine. Those fingertips of Lilly’s had a lot of seductive power for such an innocent.

He glanced at her snuggled in his arms and fought for breath. Her mouth curved upwards in a contented smile, and Giles was mesmerized by the lush curve of her lower lip. His heart beat double time as her eyes blinked up at him, and he glimpsed what he feared might be desire curling in their gray depths.

If Giles wanted to, he could take her to his bed tonight. A virgin. The horror of that thought didn’t diminish his desire. But sharing a bed with a virgin had never been a responsibility he wanted.

Lowering Lilly to her feet at her doorway, he took her pale hand in his. Tiny and delicate. Giles pressed his lips to her knuckles without breaking eye contact. Lilly’s lips parted on a sigh.

He stopped himself from continuing the kiss with an inward snarl. He might be one of London’s wickedest rogues, but he did not debauch virgins. He would not ruin Lilly’s life by hurting her when the affair ended.

* * *

The night was still and the only sounds were the creak of the bed ropes and the brush of harsh breath against Lilly’s skin. She was in absolute bliss. Giles’ magic hands kneaded into her neck and scalp, giving her gooseflesh. He rubbed into her shoulders and she had to fight back a moan. When his hands settled in to knead her bottom and thighs, a quiver raced between her legs.

Lilly did not understand why she enjoyed Giles’ touch the way she did, but she didn’t want it to end. Giles Wexham was the most caring person she knew. She could never get enough of his touch or his attention. When his hands found her toes and tickled, Lilly pulled her foot out of his grip.

The next thing Lilly heard was a ragged groan before the door to her room opened and crashed shut. When she raised her head, Giles had gone.

Lilly sat up against the headboard, wondering what she had done. It was clearly something Giles did not like. She bit her lip and waited, hoping he would come back and explain his sudden departure.

After hearing nothing beyond her room, no sign of Giles’ return, she struggled into her nightgown then blew out the candle. Wrapping a shawl about her shoulders, she curled onto the bed, eager to rid herself of a new discomfort. She ached, but not in any place she expected. What had she done?

The darkness held no answers. Lilly rubbed her neck where Giles’ hands had been minutes before. She liked his touch far too much. Lilly had not been so muddleheaded that she could mistake the sound Giles made just before he left her. He groaned when he had sex. She wished she knew what to do.

Fucking. She thought that was what people called it. Someone had once whispered shocking words into her ear in the early years of her illness. Glad, coarse words, rejoicing at her invalid state. At the time, she had not understood what the sneering voice had suggested, that she would never be woman enough for a man, that she would never become Giles’ wife. That voice was right.

Lilly ran her hand down her chest and brushed her fingertips over her nipples. They were painfully hard and she gasped at the sensation. But that was not the only place that pulsed. Her hand slid down her belly, parting her knees, and brushed over the curls at the junction of her thighs. The pain was lower.

Hesitantly, Lilly slid her fingers between her legs and her body quaked at the sensation. Her nightgown dampened between her fingers and her skin. She snatched her hand back.

Lilly wished she had someone to confide in, but she’d never had a close friendship and the housekeeper appeared too scatterbrained to risk asking awkward questions.

The only person she could turn to was Giles, but he was the entire problem. Before she had met him properly, she had never had these feelings. Her body had only given her pain. This was painful too, but the difference was distinct. Was there something Lilly could do to ease the yearning her body shook with every time Giles touched her?

These strange feelings were only growing, gathering strength the longer she knew him. Lilly wrapped her arms tightly about her chest to ward off the chill that threatened to reach her heart. He deserved better.

Giles was the first person to befriend her. He was kind and caring. These massages at night had finally brought her relief from the pain of her injuries that countless doctors could not. She was so grateful for his attentions, but they couldn’t continue this way for much longer.

She could now see a future unfolding ahead of her, but how it played out was hazy. Her life, as ever, would depend on her father’s decree. Despite his promises, he might decide to take her back to Dumas. Lilly shuddered and wondered if it was possible to fall asleep while in the same house as her mother ever again.

She had her doubts.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The day spent apart from Lilly had dragged. Giles discreetly watched her reclining on the chaise lounge, drinking in the sunshine of a lovely day, but knew he could not avoid her any longer. The time for truth had come.

From his position just inside the doorway, he let his eyes skim over the creamy expanse of her skin above the blue day gown that twisted about her body.