Before she could go on to call him a beast and a brute, and every other name he deserved, he rushed into speech. “What the deuce are you doing here?”
She flinched at his belligerent tone and wrenched her hands from around his neck. He rose on his arms above her and struggled to settle down. But with her lying so close, it was impossible. His restraint balanced on a knife edge.
“You had a nightmare,” she stammered. “You were calling out.”
“Hell, I’m sorry.” Vaguely he remembered the old horrors visiting him last night. He hadn’t had that dream in months. Returning home had stirred up too many strong emotions. Returning home, and seeing Flick.
He always woke from his nightmares, sweating and gasping and unable to go back to sleep. Flick’s presence must have calmed him, allowing other, much more appealing dreams to take over.
She looked hurt. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“Yes, I do. I hoped to give you time to get used to me again, before I resumed my husbandly rights.”
The light wasn’t bright enough for him to see her blush, but he was sure she did. He waited for her to express relief, but she stared up at him as if nothing made sense. Then her delicate jaw firmed. “We’ve already waited more than seven years, Canforth.”
“Believe me, I’ve counted every day.” It was his turn to demur. “But I’m not sure I can be careful with you tonight, Flick. It’s been too long.”
Unambiguous annoyance crossed her face. “I don’t want you to be careful. I’m your wife, not a Meissen shepherdess you keep on the mantelpiece.”
“But what I just did—”
“Was wonderful. For once, I thought that you really wanted me.”
He gave a snort of disbelief. “Want you? I die of desire for you.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
“Yes. And I can’t bear to think I might hurt you because I’ve lost control of myself.”
“I’m not made of glass, Canforth.” This time her frown was thoughtful, rather than displeased. “And anyway, I want you, too.”
“You do?” He remembered those unpracticed but enthusiastic kisses. They hadn’t been the product of his imagination. They’d come from a woman discovering sexual pleasure and frantic to experience more of it.
“You do,” he said more slowly.
Tentatively she hooked her hands over his shoulders. Even such a light touch shuddered through him like an earthquake.
Flick’s voice emerged as a strangled whisper. “I’ve been lonely for so long, Canforth. I don’t want to be lonely anymore.”
Chapter 5
In an agony of suspense, Felicity waited to hear Canforth’s response to her plea. Had she pushed too far? Broken their unspoken truce? Proven she was no lady, but a brazen trollop?
But he said he wanted her. And even in her inexperience, she’d recognized his hunger when he’d turned to her in his dream. And there was no mistaking the hot male weight pressing against her stomach. Whatever his mind or his conscience might say, his body showed unequivocal interest in taking things further.
When he started to pull away, her heart plummeted into her stomach. Failure tasted rank on her tongue.
God f
orgive her, she’d made a mistake. Been too forward, too needy, too…real.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, lifting her hands from his shoulders.
“What are you sorry for?” he asked, rolling off her and sitting up. The fire didn’t provide much light, but she made out the powerful outline of his chest and shoulders against the shadows. Even too thin, he remained an impressive figure of a man.
“For…for asking…” Her voice faded to nothing, as she sat up and faced him.
“Silly goose.” White teeth flashed as he smiled. “You have nothing to apologize for. Believe me.”