“Would you like me to stay with you? I can sleep in this chair.”
He’d offered because she did not deserve to suffer, because he hoped he would dream about something pleasant when in her company, and because he had a desire to watch her sleep.
“No one need know,” he added.
She glanced at the door. “Mr Ashwood would know.”
“Yes, Ashwood would know.” But he’d not say a damn thing.
“I cannot ask you to sleep in a chair, Dante.”
“You didn’t ask, I offered.”
“I’m not sure I would settle, knowing you’re a few feet away, cold and uncomfortable.”
Tired of skirting around their mutual need for affection, he took a huge risk and said, “Then let me climb into bed with you. Give you something pleasurable to think about. Touch you until you’re sated, so exhausted you’ll struggle to stay awake.”
Her eyes widened, and her breath came a little quicker. “Sleep with me?” She jumped to the obvious conclusion. “Dante, I do not want to have a child out of wedlock.”
“And I do not want to give you a child out of wedlock.” Though for some reason unbeknown he wished to empty himself inside her. “There are ways to enjoy each other and keep your virtue intact. Ways to banish the demons tonight.”
She swallowed. “What about your statement?”
“We can discuss it later.” He sensed her nerves. “Tell me what you’re thinking. Speak from the heart. Make no allowances for my feelings. Beatrice, put your own needs before mine.”
She smiled. “I don’t know how to do that.”
Dante gripped her elbow, guided her to stand. Then he dropped to his knees before her. “I should be the one crawling on the floor, the one worshipping at your feet, for you are without doubt an angel here on earth. You deserve better than to have a rake proposition you in the grubby bedchamber of a coaching inn.”
“Not so grubby. I checked the bed, and it’s clean.” She took hold of his arms and forced him to stand. “I cannot afford to lose my position with the Order. As much as I like Alice, I cannot go back to living above a tavern.”
Rejection hit him hard. More so because he had never wanted a woman the way he wanted her. But he’d asked for the truth and had the utmost respect for her decision.
“I understand.”
She placed her hand on his chest to soften the blow. “I cannot afford to lose my freedom, but I would risk everything to feel your lips on mine again.”
Every nerve in his body sparked to life. “You would?”
“I won’t pretend to know what exists between us, Dante. Maybe it’s lust and it will fizzle away to nothing. Maybe we’re just two people seeking comfort, respite from our nightmares. I ache for your touch, but need some reassurance before we proceed.”
“Love, I’ll not take your virtue.”
“Not even if I ask you to?”
The question caught him off guard.
She laughed. “Dante, I value your friendship, but fear things will be different if we indulge our passions.”
“Beatrice, we kissed like rampant lovers, and it only strengthened our bond. But I’m reckless and rash and rarely think about tomorrow.” Yet he knew one thing with striking clarity. “Despite that, I need you in my life, more than I’ve needed anyone, and so a night spent banishing our ghosts will have no bearing on our friendship.”
“You mean that?” she breathed, pushing her hand up over his chest.
“I give you my word.”
“Then kiss me, Dante. Kiss me, so we might forget our troubles.”
Chapter 13