What she saw in his eyes caused a rippling fire to flare in her belly and spread through her limbs.
“Roderick.”
Though his name had come out in a husky whisper, she knew he’d heard her. But he didn’t respond. His face remained unmoving, his expression almost stern.
He lifted his hands to comb his fingers through her hair from her scalp down to the ends.
Her head fell back and she lifted her hands to either side of his taut waist, holding herself still and quiet as he finished his task. Over and over he slid his fingers along the curve of her scalp, from her temples to her nape. Then he drew his fingers down through the tangles until he had her hair spreading in silken waves down her back. The direction of his focus intently followed the path of his hands.
Since he seemed determined to avoid meeting her gaze, she took the opportunity to study his features, looking for a clue to what he might be thinking. He had accused her of hiding behind layers of self-protection, but he was just as enigmatic—though not in everything. In some ways, he was more forthcoming and honest than anyone she had ever known. But when it came to certain aspects of himself, he was decidedly reluctant to allow her access.
When he did finally shift his attention to meet her gaze, the blue of his eyes shimmered with light and shadow, revealing depths of color she had not noticed before.
“Thank you,” she said, needing to fill the silence, “for tonight.”
The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “I had nothing to do with your success tonight. You would have done just as well, or better, without me.”
As he spoke, his fingertips brushed the delicate skin at her nape before smoothing across the surface of her bare shoulders.
The simple caress sent shivers of anticipation down her spine, and she took a step closer to him. Not close enough to press her breasts to his chest or feel the strength of his thighs against hers…but close enough for his breath to puff warmly across her cheek.
He slowed the movement of his hands, as if in indecision.
“I cheated.” She hadn’t intended to confess, but felt it suddenly necessary to have the fact out of the way.
“I know,” he answered quietly.
“Not the entire time,” she insisted in a soft murmur, “but…there was a point…”
A slow smile spread across his lips, and something buried deep in her core gave a delightful twist.
“Why didn’t you stop me?”
“You needed the money for your sisters. Now you have it.”
“You see…” She was having a hard time stringing thoughts together as he shifted his hands from her shoulders to smooth them down the length of her back. “There is cause to thank you.”
“No, you deserve it. And more.” His voice thickened. “You know that, don’t you? That you should have so much more?”
His hands reached the upper curve of her buttocks and stopped there. Emma looked up into his eyes and felt all the longing of her soul coalesce into a hard knot just below her sternum. The ache of it threatened to overwhelm her, but not nearly as much as what she was starting to detect in his face.
He was trying so hard to keep from showing anything in his expression that the tension in his features revealed far more than he realized.
“What more should I have, Roderick?”
She stepped in to him and wrapped her arms around him, finally pressing herself to his chest, loving how the deliberate contact made her nipples peak and her belly tighten. Especially when she felt the evidence of his arousal between them.
His jaw clenched and his eyelids lowered. The smile had long left his lips and the tension in his mouth sent a ripple of fear through her.
He held himself stiff and hard. Resistant.
She moved her hands up his back. The muscles along his spine bunched as she made her way up to his shoulders, rising up on her toes as she did. But before she could reach her lips to his, he turned away, releasing his arms from around her waist and stepping out of her reach.
“The hour is late,” he said as he crossed the room to look out the window. “You should go home.”
Emma stood where he had left her, staring at his broad back silhouetted against the light of London shining through the window.
Should she walk away? Go home and resume her life as the spinster sister—ever responsible, selfless, dutiful. Pathetic, lonely, and dull.
Could she?
After knowing what if felt like to test her limits?
She had arrived at the club tonight desperate, frightened, and uncertain. She had been filled with worry over her sisters, their father’s debt, whether or not she would leave there more destitute than when she arrived. Terrified that in stepping into the role necessary for saving them, she might damn herself with the discovery that she was just like her father.