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“I know!” he cried, half alarmed, half incredulous. “And I never get carried away! Helaine, what have you done to me?”

She threw up her hands. “I have done nothing but tell you no. Over and over.”

He laughed. “You know that’s not the reason. Scores of women have refused me over the years.”

She released her own sharp bark of laughter. “Scores? I hardly think that’s likely.”

“Well, dozens at least. At least one dozen.”

“Robert, you are being foolish. Come now,” she said as she pushed at his shoulders. “Release me.”

He shook his head and slowly tightened his grip. He didn’t have to force her. She was reluctant, not refusing. “I don’t want to let you go, Helaine.” Her head was down, but he could put his mouth next to her cheek. He coaxed her gently to lift her face to his. “I want to keep you close forever.”

“I never thought you one for pretty lies, Robert.”

“That’s just the thing,” he said as he closed his eyes. He stopped trying to tempt her and just held her, breathing in her essence and feeling her glorious warmth. “They’re not lies.”

“Of course they’re lies,” she said. “Even if you mean them right now.”

“What if they’re not? What if I will feel like this forever? I’m not an inconsistent man, Helaine. What I feel for you is…is…”

“A fleeting fantasy?” She lifted her head to look into his eyes. “A passing desire?”

“Love. What if it is love?”

She gasped, her whole body tightening in his arms. She made to push him away, but he did not open his arms. He did not want her running, not yet. Not until they had worked this through. He was careful not to pull her close, but he could not release her. Not yet. Nor could he speak. The idea was too new, the feeling too special. So he held her and in time she stilled.

“You must let me go, Robert.”

“In a moment. Just…a moment.”

He felt her breath, warm and moist against his cheek. It was acceptance. She would not run, and so he slowly drew her the rest of the way into his arms. Good Lord, she felt amazing there. All soft and womanly, and yet he knew the strength she had in her. And the goodness. How he wanted to possess her. He wanted her beneath him, penetrated by him, and touched by no other. He wanted it like a territorial animal wants to stake a claim. And he wanted it the way a man wants to own a woman.

But he was not an animal nor was he ruled by his passions. He wanted her, maybe even loved her. But he would let her go if that was what she wished. So he did it. He took one last breath of her scent and then opened his arms. She stepped back slowly, confusion and a myriad of emotions crossing her face.

“Robert,” she whispered, “I do not know what to think. You take my reason away.”

His lips twisted in a rueful kind of smile. “You have been doing that for me since the very beginning.”

“This can’t last. And when it ends, where will I be?”

He arched a brow. “Are you sure? What if it is better than anything? Better than everything!”

She looked away from him, her eyes going to the bed. It wasn’t large by a viscount’s standards, but it was large enough for them. Just a man and a woman. He reached out to stroke her cheek. He couldn’t stop himself, especially when she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his palm.

“You know me now,” he said softly. “You know you can trust me.” He gently pulled her gaze back to his. “I won’t lose control this time, Helaine.” He rolled his thumb across her lips. “Let me love you.”

She held his gaze for a long moment and he could see the indecision in her eyes. He didn’t say anything. He had already said more than he could credit. So when her body slowly released and her eyes drifted shut, he knew that her decision was made and he had not influenced it.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Please, Robert, please love me.”

Chapter 19

What if it’s love? Robert’s words reverberated in Helaine’s mind, echoing over and over until she could think of nothing else. What if he loved her? What if Robert, Viscount Redhill, future Earl of Willington, was in love with her? This man who had tortured her, threatened her business, and ultimately revealed his heart to her in a brothel might indeed love her. He was arrogant, opinionated, and flawed. And yet he was also brilliant, kind, and generous to a fault. She knew better than most how much a place like this would cost. But he supported it out of his own pocket. He worried about the children of the miners. And he worried about her.

What if it’s love? The idea seduced her as much as his hands on her body, his mouth on her flesh. Because she so wanted to be loved. By any man, but most especially by him.

Love…

“Yes,” she said again because that was the only word she could manage.

His hands were trembling as he caressed her face. “I’ll be careful,” he whispered as he rained kisses across her cheeks, eyes, and nose. “I swear it, Helaine. I’ll be—”

She stopped his words. She didn’t want to hear about careful. So she lifted her face and met his lips, her mouth open, her tongue questing for his. She felt his gasp of surprise, quickly followed by a shift in his body. She didn’t understand what he was doing at first, but then she felt her legs swept out from beneath her. He lifted her up, carrying her effortlessly to the bed. And as he moved, she kept their mouths joined, their tongues intertwined.

A moment later, they were at the bed, but he didn’t release her. He just stood there holding her while his mouth played with hers. Oh, sweet heaven, how could any man kiss so beautifully? All thrusting power one second, then teasing withdrawal followed by tiny nips next before he rushed inside again. It was fun, and she found herself smiling from the sheer joy of it.

He took that moment to break away from her with a gasp. He bent down, slowly setting her on the bed, but he stayed with her, his forehead pressed to hers. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, and soon he was sitting beside her on the bed. Thankfully, his hands were deliciously busy. They slid down her back and were undoing her buttons, loosening her gown even as she was the one now to kiss his mouth, his cheeks, his very strong nose.

“I love your nose,” she said as she skated her lips across it. Would his fingers never finish? Her gown was too tight. She could barely breathe.

“My nose?” he asked. “Why ever would you love that?”

“Because it is strong. It is aristocratic. I even love the bump right on the end.”

He pulled back and tried to stare cross-eyed at his nose. “A bump?”

“Absolutely,” she lied. In truth, there was no bump, but her heart was beating so fast, her body so alive, she had to say something to calm herself down. Some nonsense to cool her fire or she swore she would burn up.

“Truly?” he asked as finally, wonderfully, he finished with the buttons of her gown.

“No, silly. It is perfect.” And just to prove it, she pressed a kiss right on the tip. She would have done more except at that moment he pulled back, his eyes dark with mischief.

“So you think to tease me, do you? Then perhaps I should tell you what about you that I like.” He leaned forward and began kissing her cheek, his tongue making little swirls along her skin as he drew lower on her body. Her cheek became her jaw, then her neck, and soon he was pulling her gown forward and off so he could kiss her shoulder.

“You’re not talking,” she gasped. It was silly of her, but she wanted to know. What about her did he find so attractive?

“I haven’t gotten there yet,” he said. The gown she wore was one of her own designs with the shift sewn into the bodice. That meant there was nothing to stop him as he pulled it away from her torso, nothing to interrupt his gaze of her now bared breasts.

“Oh,” she whispered as her skin heated. All men loved breasts, she supposed. But he wasn’t looking at her there. He was drawing the gown off her arms and she was torn between covering herself back up or just closing her eyes to feel the soft caress of the air on her sensitive skin. She did neither, her gaze going to his dark eyes. Never had she seen him look so intensely. He hadn’t lost control like before. This time, he was just looking, his expression adoring rather than possessive.