“Don’t be so impatient.” She could hear the smile in his voice.
She bristled all over with indignation and pulled back from his embrace then fisted her hands and beat at his chest. “You pompous arse.”
The words came out before she could edit them.
He stopped stroking her and laid his hand over her mons. “I know, sweeting, I know.”
What did he know? What could he know about lying with men over and over, watching their intense pleasure, and yet never experiencing that same release with them? Only alone. Leaving her empty. Leaving her aching.
She beat at him harder as part of herself stood back, watching, appalled. This man was ill in her bed. She was supposed to be nursing him back to health, not demanding pleasure. But she couldn’t stop.
He shifted then grasped her wrists with each hand. “Darling, darling, don’t.”
He held her immobilized. She could hear the faint rasp still in his breathing. Dear God, even sick, he was strong.
“Let me go!”
“Shh…” He leaned close and pressed his lips to her cheek. “Let me drive you to the destination. You are only to enjoy the journey.”
Frustration rose and wild energy surged in her. She moaned and thrashed in his hold. “Let me go.”
“Jeanne.”
The deep, silken, sensual sound of her name on his tongue stilled her. Stunned her.
He knew it was her. Not his Thérèse.
She held her breath and stared at him but in the darkness she could only make out the white of his eyes, the midnight-black forelock falling over his brow, and the shadowed contours of his cheekbones and jaw line.
She struggled against his restraint but he held her firmly. She’d never faced the situation where a man sought to actually control her bodily. It should have frightened her. But her limbs seemed to weaken and her belly fluttered with the most interesting thrills.
He seemed to notice the lessening of her resistance for he released one of his hands and shifted to clasp her wrists in one large hand. “Let me have my way in this.”
His way. He wanted more than other men had. He wanted to conquer her. If she let him do this, to make her come undone, he’d be privy to her deepest secret self. No one could be allowed to see such a private side of her. When people knew you too deeply, they had an advantage that they could use at any time to strike at you, to hurt you.
He released her then touched the shoulder of her shift and gave it a pluck. “Remove this.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Of course you should.” He sounded a little breathless now.
This was fatiguing him. Guilt pricked her, distracted her from her thoughts. “No, I should arise and…work.”
“Jeanne, I have lain here beside you and felt the tension of your need.”
Her heart began to pound. He saw too much. “Please don’t—”
“It is very arousing to me. I shan’t be able to sleep without some…resolution.”
“Resolution?”
“Yes, resolution for one of us. For you.” He seemed to forget the matter of her shift for he began to stroke her thigh again. “I am not capable of more at this moment and for that I am sincerely sorry.”
There was no trace of arrogance in his expression, instead his gaze remained open.
She kept her legs together.
He traced that tightly closed line from her knees and moved upwards. “You wanted this a moment ago. What changed?”
His tender, seeking touch spoke of so many things. It confused her. What did she want? To remain pristine, private? Or should she open herself to this experience? What would it feel like to come for a man? To allow him to share those vulnerable moments?
He stopped his questing touch at her apex and rested his hand gently against her. “You’ve experience with men, correct?”
“I have experience with men but it is not what you are thinking.”
“What am I thinking?”
“I don’t sell my wares on the street or in taverns.”
The way he froze, the sudden tension in his fingertips told her that he’d been thinking exactly that. Considering the way he’d woken to find himself in a bed with her, she could forgive his assumption.
She didn’t even understand why it had been important to her for him to know that she wasn’t some tavern whore. It just was.
“Have you ever come with a man?”
The question startled her out of her thoughts, sent a cold ball into the center of her stomach, and killed what was left of her arousal. To avoid his gaze, she tilted her head back and looked up at the headboard and studied the worn, dry looking wood.
“I shall have to take that as a no, Jeanne.”
“As you wish.”
“Can you come by yourself?”