"You don't understand. Much as I love to make love to you, I can't devote my life to pleasure. It's too-too… frivolous, for one thing."
His dark brows rose in arched query. "Is life supposed to be unconditionally dutiful?"
"I hardly think you need worry about that."
Rising onto his elbows, he directed a skeptical gaze her way. "Are we comparing obligations in our lives?"
"No, of course not. I didn't mean to imply that."
"Do you think you perform more good deeds than I?"
"Outside of bed, you mean?"
"Very amusing. Why don't I have Patrick give you a list of my charities and the various boards I sit on, and you can relax."
Reaching up, she touched his cheek. "I'm not taking issue with your goodness-in any number of realms. I'm trying to deal with my own unease. I don't like to be so enamored. I don't like to think of you day and night. I don't want to want you every waking minute."
"Why not? I feel the same way."
"Because…" She hesitated, struggling to reconcile a level of wistful dreams with reality. "I haven't lived my life like you," she began to explain, trying to be diplomatic and honest at the same time. "I don't mean it in a pejorative way. I mean only, until I met you, I considered myself a rational person. I've never been impulsive or so… so-physically tempted. My decisions have been based on practicality and logic."
"Like marrying two old men."
"They were good men and very good to me."
"And I'm not?"
She smiled. "You're very good, darling. In a thousand different ways. In so many ways, I feel myself losing my perspective. And that loss and my loss of reason makes me uncomfortable. All I'm asking is for a brief hiatus from-"
"Fucking? I don't want to."
"But I do."
He sat up and scowled at her. "Jesus, Alex, you're asking a lot. How long a hiatus?"
"A few days, that's all."
"Days! I'll go crazy." The tacit exclusivity in his reply suddenly struck him, and he softly swore.
She lay very still. "I'm not asking."
He swore again, his brows drawn together in a frown, not sure he was willing to agree. After a small silence, he finally muttered, "Very well," because regardless of the unnerving implications in his need, he wanted her more. "But only for a day."
"Three days."
"I could lock you up here and no one would be the wiser." She looked so lush and inviting lying there, he was sorely tempted.
"My father and Loucas would be over by tomorrow."
"I could take you to my country house."
"I'm sure they know where that is as well."
"I'll take you abroad."
"Darling, please, don't be childish."
He grimaced. "I don't like this idea."
She smiled. "I'm not forcing you to do anything. I simply need some respite for myself."
"Don't split hairs," he grumbled. "Your respite becomes mine. Oh, hell-two days, then, but not a minute more. And don't try to tell me you're any less used to having your way."
She couldn't in good conscience disagree, when she'd been fiercely independent all her life. "Two days, then. Thank you for your understanding."
He gave her a black look. "It's going to be hell."
"It's an opportunity for us both to clear our heads."
"My head is very clear."
"Then, it's an opportunity for me."
"What the hell do you have to do?"
"Catch up on all the appointments I've missed since I met you."
"You needn't sound so cheerful." He was astonished at his discontent. As though he hadn't lived his entire adult life fleeing entanglements.
"I will miss you."
"You'd better not see Harry."
"I have no intention of seeing Harry. Does that mean you'll be celibate as well?"
It took a stunned moment to digest the word celibate, and then another moment to fully absorb it, and a moment more to persuade himself he could withstand the shock to his system. "I suppose if you can, lean."
"You sound unsure."
"Not unsure precisely."
"Unwilling?"
"I don't think so."
"How reassuring you are."
"Give me time to-"
"Fully understand what it means?"
"I suppose." His shoulder rose in an unconscious shrug. "It's in the way of an aberration for me, that's all. But I'll play golf while you're gone. That way I won't drink too much and, well, never mind. You did say two days."
"Just two days."
"No, it's two whole days," he countered. "What happens if I can't wait?"
"You have to wait."
He softly growled. "I wouldn't do this for anyone else, you know."
Her purple eyes held a gleam of amusement. "I'm flattered."
He suddenly grinned. "You should be. Now, when do these two days begin? I mean… would we have time now for-"
"I'd love to if I didn't have to meet my mother at our school's musical competition. And believe me," she said with a smile, "I'd much rather stay here with you than listen to her ring a peal over my head."
"I'll go with you. We can bend the rules if I don't touch you, can't we?"
"If you're interested in bending the rules," she suggested, "after we see my mother, we could have tea with your mother."
A low groan greeted her remark.
"That's what I thought," she said briskly, sitting up. "Why don't I meet you back here in two days."
"No Harry," he reminded her.
"No women."
He didn't answer, but then, he took orders poorly. He said instead, "If you leave now, the two days will begin that much sooner. I'll help you dress."
"Have you no patience?" she teased.
"Do I look like I have patience?"
"Actually, you look slightly impatient," she judged, her gaze on his beautiful erection.
"It wouldn't take long," he whispered.
"I don't know…"
"Another few minutes won't matter…"
But it turned out to be much longer, because pleasure wasn't so easily relinquished, nor desire curtailed, particularly in two people who had found a rare, enchanting Cytherea in a previously commonplace world. She said, "I have to go" twice, then twice more, to which the viscount always replied, "Yes" and then kissed her again. Or made love to her again… or made her laugh again.
She was very late leaving.
Chapter Twenty-six
"It's about time," her mother hissed as Alex slipped into the seat beside her.
"I'm sorry. I overslept."
Her mother's examining gaze swept her. "Overslept indeed," she said, tight-lipped. "I can still smell his cologne."
Already flushed from hurrying to dress and reach the school, Alex turned a deeper shade of red and quickly looked away, directing her attention to the stage. She tried to concentrate on the youngest children, who were lined up in two wobbly rows, singing. The sight of their scrubbed, cherubic faces brought an instant smile to her lips, and her mother's displeasure took second place in her thoughts. Before long she was humming along to the familiar tune.
As she watched the various classes perform, each child as familiar to her as any of those in her family, she realized how much the school meant to her, how her interest went well beyond charity. These wonderful children had come to fill a void in her life, brought her joy… gave her life meaning.
As a child of her own would.
She caught her breath at the astonishing thought. Did she truly want a child, or was this sudden perception predicated more on her reaction to the birth of Tina's baby? Or did her powerful new feelings for Sam prompt this shocking notion? Whatever the reason, it was impossible, of course. As impossible as were such wistful yearnings in relation to Sam Lennox, she firmly reminded herself. Turning her attention back to the stage, she listened to the children's clear, bright voices, their song one of joy and thanksgiving. How much she had to be thankful for herself, she realized, mindful of the great bounty in her life.