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Now that the time was here, however…
She bit her lip, checking her reflection for what must have been the hundredth time since they’d retired. It was like looking at a stranger. Not that she looked exceptionally different. After her initial uncertainty regarding her wardrobe for such a liaison—she didn’t own anything remotely alluring, after all, and wasn’t about to lounge around in nothing at all—she had quickly readied herself for bed as she normally did, donning a plain cotton nightgown and soft robe, brushing her hair until it shimmered in the firelight, washing her face with trembling hands, praying the cool water would help soothe her anxiety.
Yes, her external appearance was the same as ever. But something inside her had changed. It was there in her eyes, a new knowledge of herself. It startled her, that difference, so much so that she hastily looked down. And immediately caught sight of the glint of her gold wedding ring, shining bright and bold on her finger.
Gasping, she tore at it with a fumbling hand. It caught on her knuckle, wholly unused to being removed, and tears burned in her eyes as she tugged harder. Finally, however, it slid free. She hurried to her desk in the corner, opened a drawer, and hastily dropped the ring inside. Aaron’s miniature followed, and she shut the drawer with a resounding snap.
There, she thought as she smoothed shaking hands down the front of her nightgown, ignoring the strange emptiness on her finger. Yet, though she expected to feel relief, there was only an increase in tension. It was as if she were being pulled taut and were ready to snap in two. Two different people, the woman she was used to being, and this new, bold creature she had become.
She paced the carpet, certain her feet would burn a path in the fine wool, so swiftly did her steps eat up the space. This was a mistake. A horrible mistake. Surely she could control her reactions to the man long enough to find him a wife, secure the necessary funds, and pay off the blackmailer. She needn’t jump into bed with him to ensure that happened.
Yet she knew her reasons for lying with Daniel were mere excuses, and flimsy ones at that. She did not want to bed Daniel because she was distracted from her goals. No, she was certain, deep in her bones, that she would have wanted him regardless of the ticking clock that was growing louder each day that passed. Which was a far more troubling truth.
As that disturbing realization took form, the knock sounded. She jumped, a yelp escaping her lips even as her heart pounded in anticipation. For a moment she couldn’t move, her wide eyes going to the door, her shaking fingers gripping her robe closed at her throat. Then, before she could think better of it, she hurried on bare feet to the door and swung it wide.
Any doubts she might have had at the wisdom of her plan melted away in an instant. She may not love Daniel. But she certainly liked him. And she wanted him. Oh goodness, how she wanted him. As she looked on him now, dressed in a soft pair of breeches and a loosely tucked lawn shirt open at the throat that did nothing to hide the magnetic strength of him, her knees grew weak. She gripped tight to the door to keep her legs from buckling.
“Daniel,” she managed on a whisper.
“Margery.” His voice was deep, and dark, the delicious timbre of it vibrating through her already-sensitive body. It was the first time he had spoken her name, and to her hungry ears it sounded like a benediction.
Wordlessly she stepped back. With only the barest hesitation he stepped over the threshold. And then she closed the door, giving the key in the lock a twist.
The sound of it grated on the air, bringing reality with it. She stood stock-still, facing the door, unable to dredge up the nerve to turn around and face him. Perhaps, she thought wildly, squeezing her eyes shut, she was asleep and would wake up and this whole awkward debacle would be a mere dream brought on by the fever of pent-up desires.
But she realized a sharp truth that could not be denied—she didn’t want that. Not at all. Despite the dismay and embarrassment—and, if she was being completely honest, the fear—she wanted him here, more than anything.
He spoke then, his voice rough in the quiet of the room.
“Have you changed your mind?”
“No!” She paused, her teeth digging into her lower lip to bite back anything further. That one word had been bad enough, as fraught with need as it had been. Drawing in a deep breath to steady herself, she asked the one question that must be voiced, though she dreaded his answer more than she expected to. “Have you?”
“No.” The word came out on an exhale, without the least hesitation. She spun about to face him. And immediately lost her breath. His gaze was molten heat, traveling down her body, scorching her wherever it landed.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice ragged. “So damn beautiful.”
His unguarded words broke through the last barricade within her. She went to him, wanting—no, needing—to close the space between them. His arms opened to her immediately, drawing her against the hard length of his body, the clatter of his cane as it hit the ground a distant echo in her passion-hazed mind. And then his lips claimed hers, and there was nothing that existed for her in that moment but him.
How was it, she thought dazedly with the one small part of her mind that could still form coherent thought, that this could feel so very right? Her body molded against his, her generous curves giving with ease to the hard planes of his. She could feel in her arms his barely leashed strength. The muscles of his shoulders bunched under her fingers, his hands roaming over her back with hungry intent. And his manhood…Ah goodness, her knees went weak. It pressed into her stomach, hard and insistent. Bringing to mind just where this was all leading.
She broke their kiss with a gasp but didn’t release him. If the ceiling opened up just then she wouldn’t have been able to let him go. “We need to talk,” she managed.
His lips found the sensitive curve where her neck met her shoulder. “Mmm hmm.”
Margery could fairly hear her eyes roll back in her head as his lips did wicked things to her skin. What had she been about to say? Ah, yes. “Th-there are things we need to”—she gasped as his teeth scraped up her neck to that wondrous place just beneath her ear—“discuss,” she finally finished.
“Discuss,” he murmured against her skin, the vibration of his deep voice nearly sending her mind off once more to parts unknown.
But this was too important to overlook in the heat of the moment. With incredible will—for there was nothing she wanted more just then than to lose herself in his embrace—she planted her hands on his shoulders and pushed.
He backed away with surprising quickness, releasing her, stepping away. The space between their bodies fairly thrummed with desire, the proof of his passion straining against his breeches, his eyes pure flames. There was no doubt in her mind he wanted her.
And yet he had given her space the instant she’d asked for it. Her heart lurched in her chest.
“I’m sorry.” Hurriedly retrieving his cane from the floor, he held it in front of him with both hands, a kind of shield, his fingers white where they gripped it. “I went too fast.”
“No,” she said. Her own fingers were busy as well, though for her it was the bodice of her nightgown she held. “No, you didn’t go too fast. But there are certain aspects of our…affair…we need to discuss before we go any further.”
