And tomorrow she would be gone.
Taking his heart with him.
Just when he’d decided that perhaps there was a tiny piece of it left to give to Delia.
Half of him wouldn’t trade the last few moments, this entire day, with Cassie for anything.
The other half wished she’d never come back. Because now he craved her even more. He could barely contemplate dredging up the strength to unwrap his arms around her and set her away from him so they could return to the inn. How the bloody hell was he going to stand watching her leave tomorrow?
He didn’t know. But one thing he did know.
They still had tonight.
“Cassie-”
She touched her fingers to his lips and shook her head. “Please don’t say you’re sorry.”
Reaching up, he lightly clasped her hand and kissed the soft, pale skin of her inner wrist. And enjoyed her quick in-take of breath. “I’m not sorry. I’m…” His voice trailed off, and he brought her hand to his chest, then pressed her palm to the spot where his heart thudded in hard, fast beats.
“You’re what?” she asked in a breathless voice.
“Hungry for more. Cassie, you asked me to spend the day with you. Now I’m asking you to spend the night with me.”
Chapter Six
Cassandra paced the length of her bedchamber, her insides knotted into a jumble of nervous expectation. In less than thirty minutes, she’d be joining Ethan for dinner-which would lead to…after dinner. I’m asking you to spend the night with me.
His words reverberated through her mind. Words she couldn’t deny she’d secretly hoped, prayed to hear. Words that deep in her heart she knew were the ones that had driven her to stop at the Blue Seas. So that for one night she wouldn’t be alone. And so that Ethan, who had lived in her heart all these years, would be the person to banish the loneliness she’d lived with for so long.
Tonight he would do just that.
Tonight she would shove aside the respectability that suppressed her deeply buried desires, desires she’d give free rein to for this one night. Tonight she wouldn’t have to lie alone in the dark and pretend it was Ethan’s hands touching her rather than her own.
After returning to the inn an hour earlier, she and Ethan had parted company-but not until he’d pulled her into a shadowed corner of the stable and kissed her with that same intoxicating, knee-weakening perfection, leaving her aroused and breathless and aching for more. On her way to her own room, she’d stopped by Sophie’s chamber. One look at her maid confirmed she was still exhausted from the journey, so Cassandra arranged with Mrs. Tildon for a tray to be brought to her room, an offer Sophie had gratefully accepted.
Guilt pricked Cassandra at how quickly she’d offered to arrange for that dinner tray. And at how selfish she felt for wanting to dine at the table alone with Ethan. She’d buried her conscience, reminding herself that there was nothing improper about a widow dining in a public place with an old friend, especially as there would surely be other guests in the main room. And she ignored how completely improper her plans for after dinner were.
Walking to the oval cheval glass, Cassandra heaved a sigh at her reflection. For just this one night she dearly wished she had something beautiful to wear. She’d done the best she could with her appearance given her severely limited wardrobe-Westmore had refused to fund anything more than the barest necessities-but the most that could be said for her drab gray gown was that it wasn’t the hated and hypocritical black of mourning.
A knock roused her from her musing, and she crossed the room to answer the summons. A broad-faced, pink-cheeked young woman dressed in servant’s garb, holding a tray from which delicious aromas wafted, bobbed a shallow curtsy. “Yer dinner tray’s arrived, milady. Yer bath as well.”
“Dinner? Bath…?” her confused voice trailed off as the maid entered, followed by a quartet of sturdy young men hefting a copper tub partially filled with steaming water. The maid set the tray on the bed while the men moved toward the hearth. “But I didn’t-”
“Here’s a towel and soap for ye,” the maid continued, setting the items next to the tub. “I’ve also a note for ye, milady.” She slipped a folded piece of paper sealed with a blob of wax from her apron pocket and handed the missive to Cassandra. “Sorry to hear yer journey tired ye so, milady, but a warm meal and hot bath will set ye back to rights.” After another quick curtsy, she followed the young men out, then closed the door quietly behind her.
Cassandra immediately broke the wax seal, unfolded the paper, and scanned the brief note.
Enjoy your bath. I’ll join you soon.
Ethan
Her gaze shifted from the generously laden dinner tray to the steaming tub, and tears sprang to her eyes at his thoughtful gesture. Clearly he’d decided they should dine in the privacy of her room rather than in the inn’s main room-a plan that quickened her pulse into an erratic beat.
She undressed as quickly as she could without Sophie’s help, then lowered herself into the heated water. With a blissful sigh, she bent her knees and slithered her back down until she was submerged to her chin. Her eyelids had just drifted closed when she heard a muffled sound near the window. She opened her eyes, and her heart jumped at the sight of a shadowy figure on the small balcony. A shadowy figure she immediately recognized. One that opened the French windows, then silently slipped into the room.
She stared in amazement as Ethan walked slowly toward her, his eyes gleaming like twin ebony braziers. In one hand he held a large worn leather satchel. Her avid gaze drank in his imposing height, the breadth of his shoulders, the strength of his long legs outlined by his snug black breeches. His midnight hair gleamed in the golden glow from the crackling fire, which cast his rugged features in an intriguing display of shadows and light. He looked big and strong, masculine and darkly attractive, and everything inside her heated with awareness, tingled with anticipation.
“H-how did you get onto that balcony?” she asked.
“My room is directly above this one. It’s a reasonably short drop.”
Her eyes widened. “Drop? You could have injured yourself!”
He reached the edge of the tub and halted. His gaze skimmed slowly over her, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “A small risk given the reward.”
“Why didn’t you simply use the door?”
“Too ordinary for an extraordinary woman like you. And I intend to see to it that everything about tonight is extraordinary for you.”
Her heart stumbled at his softly spoken words. Before she could even think up a reply, he continued, “My timing is perfect, I see.”
“Perfect for what?” Her voice sounded positively breathless.
“For helping you bathe-the first step in my plan.”
“If that’s the first step, I’m burning with curiosity to know what the second step entails.”
He set the satchel on the floor, then crouched down next to the tub. His white shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing muscular brown forearms which he leaned on the tub’s copper edge. Dipping his fingertips in the water, he lightly stirred the surface, his serious gaze resting on hers. “The second step-and every step afterward-is to give you the sort of evening you deserve. The sort you’ve been denied all these years. One filled with happiness and smiles. Romance and passion.”
“Oh…my.” To her mortification, hot tears rushed into her eyes.