Sanderson noticeably gulped at the vision of loveliness before him. For a long moment, it seemed he could not speak. His gaze roamed over Lauren, taking in the wealth of unbound hair, her flushed cheeks, and the mussed condition of her garments.
Lauren’s eyebrow arched in what she hoped was a haughty expression of displeasure. “You disturb my rest, sir.”
“I—uh—I hoped to assist,” he stuttered. His eyes fixed on her bosom, partly exposed where the robe gaped. The gown beneath and its ragged edges, torn by Theodore’s eager hands, peeked through.
Abruptly mindful of her scandalous appearance, Lauren frowned and gripped the flimsy robe closer to her chest. Perhaps she should have considered this before confronting the very persistent Sanderson.
“It is completely unnecessary. Please do not bother yourself on my behalf any further.” She made to close the door. “Goodnight.”
Shaking himself from his trance, Sanderson grabbed the edge of the door with his hand. His foot wedged in the opening. “It would be of mutual benefit, I assure you. And pleasure.”
A strangled growl emanated from somewhere deeper in the room.
Lauren covered the unmistakable sound with a clearing of her throat. “You flatter me; however, this behavior is the height of impropriety, Lord Sanderson. You must go.”
“But I…” Inexplicably, his sentence trailed off.
Lauren puzzled over that until it became glaringly apparent. A jolt of horror rocked her. Sanderson had spied the gentleman’s coat tossed haphazardly over the chair. His gaze fixed upon it.
Stunned silence ruled for a moment. Lauren held her breath for what felt like an eternity before Sanderson eased his foot away. “Do forgive me, Lady Lauren. It is my wish you are feeling much improved tomorrow.” Removing his hand from the door’s edge, he gave a stiff bow.
“I’m sure I will. Good night, my lord.”
“Yes, erm, goodnight.” The man hurriedly stepped back, practically fleeing down the hall.
Lauren chewed her bottom lip as she quietly shut the door and relocked it. For a moment, she rested her head against the cool wood. How much harm would it cause her reputation if Sanderson bandied about that there was a man’s afternoon coat in her room? Perhaps she could bluff her way through it. Say it had been left there by mistake previously during a completely guiltless visit.
“I warned you not to open that bloody door,” Theodore muttered into the curve of her neck. Arms wrapped around her tight, pulling her hard against his muscular body. His warm, broad chest burned her spine through their clothes, and Lauren fought the urge to sink into him.
“I worried he might break it down,” she whispered back.
“If he had, he’d find himself answering to a brace of my pistols at dawn.” He spun her around, cupping her jaw within the palm of his hand. “He saw my coat.”
“He can’t possibly know that it is yours.”
Theodore’s smile was indulgent. “Who else would dare enter your rooms?”
Lauren had no answer for that. She gazed mutely up at him while he brushed her cheek with the knuckle of his forefinger.
“You are so innocent in these matters, my dear,” he stated with an exasperated sigh. “If he hasn’t informed half of the guests by tomorrow morning, I would be very much surprised.”
Leaving her slumped against the door, Theodore made his way over to the table holding the brandy. After pouring himself a hefty serving and downing it in one gulp, he took up his coat. Instead of shrugging into the garment, the garment was tossed over his arm. His intent was abundantly clear.
“You are leaving?” Lauren rushed to his side, gripping his arm. “But why?”
Theodore’s hand slid into her hair, fingers gently caressing the nape of her neck. Drawing her close, he pressed a kiss to her lips.
Lauren tasted the brandy, sweet and heady, felt the warmth of his mouth, overwhelming and intoxicating, and she swayed against him.
“You know very well why. Because I would take more.” His mouth brushed hers. “We both know you would not stop me. We cannot be trusted with each other, wouldn’t you agree? This is for the best, darling. Until you agree you will be my wife, it must be this way.” One more fleeting kiss and he was pulling away from her. “These are but tiny glimpses of heaven that whet our appetites, and because we are equally starved for each other, that is why I must go.”
Chapter 14
Theodore entered the library, heaving a deep breath of relief when he saw it was empty. On a sideboard in the corner sat a tray of liquor, and he poured himself a whiskey.
Sinking into a deep chair, he rubbed a hand across his forehead.
Lord, what an afternoon it had been. He still felt Lauren’s warm body as if he held her in his arms. But far worse, he could still taste her. Even through the burn of the whiskey, he tasted her.
From his pocket, he withdrew a bit of the mistletoe he now carried everywhere. Twirling it between forefinger and thumb, he considered his plan. A frown spread across his face.
It had proven more difficult than he’d thought, this winning of Lauren’s heart. Once on the verge of claiming the prize, morals now hijacked his goal. He still couldn’t quite understand what had happened or why it happened.
He left her when she practically begged him to stay. Pushed her away while she pulled him closer. Ignored her lips when every nerve cell in his body shouted he should ravage her mouth.
Only five days remained before the wager was officially over. He should call an end to things. Seduction may have been an unwise choice, especially now that his efforts had borne fruit.
Maybe his greed, his pride, had gotten the best of him, turning him into someone like Sanderson. He’d stolen Lauren’s choices away. Made it all about what he wanted.
Bloody hell if he’d hadn’t made an unholy mess of things.
The door to the library creaked open, and Lord Settleton strolled in. He wore a smile, though there was a hardness in his eyes.
“Ah, there you are, Hawthorne,” George said with a telling forced joviality. “I thought you had retired for the evening. At least, that’s what Sanderson said.”
Theodore stiffened. Already running with the rumor. This will turn out badly. “What else did he say?” He slowly rotated the glass in his hand.
“Very little.” There was a period of silence as George poured himself a drink. Taking a seat in the chair opposite of Theodore’s, his brow arched. “Why? Should he have said more?”
“It is of no matter.” Theodore stared at the other man. A man he considered his friend. A man who also happened to be Lauren’s closest male relative.
“It is the greatest of matters,” George returned calmly. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
Tipping his head back, Theodore let out a frustrated sigh directed at the coffered ceiling. When next he met George’s calm gaze, his jaw ached from clenching, and his hands curled into fists. “Has he spread the tale any further than your ears?”
“Not that I am aware. Only to myself, I think. I told Penelope, of course. She is with Lauren now, relaying the events. There were no promises from Sanderson that he would keep this confidential. He appeared ready to burst at the seams when relating what he saw.”