She thought about the foolishly romantic notions that had been running through her head. Clearly, there was no need for any poignant farewell.
“I came to tell you about my stepfather,” she said in a cool voice.
“Your what?”
Quickly Mary told him about her mother’s second marriage and the unpleasant man she had had the misfortune to choose. Royce listened, frowning, as she went on to describe how he had been pushing Rose to marry one of his friends, Egerton Suttersby, despite the large difference in their ages and Rose’s dislike of the man.
“And you think he has something to do with this? Was he the man who tried to kidnap Rose?”
“No. No, that man was far younger and larger than Cosmo. The thing is, I saw—or thought I saw—Cosmo in London. That was where I went that day at the Tower when I left you and the others. I thought I had seen Cosmo and I tried to find him, but then you came along and …” She stopped, thinking of what had happened after Royce had found her.
The darkening of his eyes told her that he, too, remembered. Mary glanced away and quickly told him the other things that had made her wonder if her stepfather could be involved—the incident in the maze, and the size and shape of the man who had shot at her sisters recently.
Royce looked at her for a long moment. “Why haven’t you told Oliver this?”
“Because I don’t know anything for certain! There are many small men. Who’s to say that it is he? And … I was afraid.” Mary looked down.
“Afraid?” He reached out to tilt her chin up, smiling into her face. “You? How can that be?”#p#分页标题#e#
“I didn’t want Stewkesbury to know we were connected to someone like Cosmo. I didn’t want any of you to know.”
“You shouldn’t worry. Every family has a black sheep or two. And he’s not even related to you.”
“I know. But everyone already thinks we are unfashionable and improper. Having a stepfather like Cosmo would make us look even worse. We were afraid the earl would regret taking us in. I was afraid you—” She stopped and stepped back, turning her face away.
“You were afraid I would what?” He followed her, reaching out to brush a lock of hair back from her cheek. Her skin flamed to life beneath his fingers.
Mary swallowed. “Turn away from me.”
“I would never do that.” His voice was low and taut. “Look at me.” When she turned her face to him, he went on, “I will never turn away from you.”
His words made her tremble, and suddenly Mary’s throat was clogged with tears. “Royce …”
She could feel the now-familiar warmth spreading through her. It was absurd to react this way, she told herself even as her pulse began to thud in her throat. She swayed toward him slightly, her breath coming faster in her throat.
“Sweet Mary …” His fingers continued to caress her cheek. “Do you know what you do to me? How much I want you?”
Mary could not answer. Indeed, the way she felt when he looked into her eyes, she could scarcely breathe.
“You should not come into my room dressed like that,” he went on, his lips curving sensually. His hand slid down her throat and edged under the collar of her dressing gown. His fingers moved along the hard line of her collarbone, slipping under her nightgown. “You should run back to your room. Now, while there’s still time.”
“I don’t want to run,” Mary answered honestly.
Royce let out a breathy laugh and bent to kiss her. His kiss was slow and leisurely, as if they had all the time in the world, far different from the hard, almost desperate way he had kissed her before. He did not pull her into his arms, only kept tracing his finger along her shoulders and chest and neck as his lips tasted hers again and again.
Mary’s body flared to life. Her core was suddenly heated and soft, and a low, slow throb began deep in her center. She dug her hands into the edges of his shirt, pulling him to her, going up on tiptoes to kiss him. She wanted to feel him filling her again, to wrap her legs around him and ride the hard thrust of his masculinity. She anticipated the deep satisfaction, the stretch of her flesh as she drew him into her, the ache eased, the thirst slaked.
“Take me,” she murmured against his lips. “Take me.”
“Not just yet.” She could feel the curve of his lips as he smiled. “This time, I am going to be slow … and very, very thorough.”
He was true to his word. Untying the sash of her dressing gown, he pushed it back from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He paused to kiss her, sinking his hands into her hair, before he resumed the task of undressing her. Sliding the thin cotton gown off over her head, he tossed it aside and picked her up, carrying her over to the bed. His eyes never left her as he shrugged out of his shirt and trousers.