When Hope noticed the tough older woman's chastened expression she seemed to regret her aggressiveness. Her cheeks colored in embarrassment. "Don't worry. I still have my mother's sapphire earrings . .. and many other mementos of hers as well. Besides," Hope said, raising her chin proudly. "My mother would have approved wholeheartedly."
"With a daughter like you, miss, I'm sure she would have."
Ryan couldn't have said which woman looked more surprised or embarrassed by Mel's tender words.
"I'd best be getting back to the Marlborough Club, then," Mel muttered gruffly.
"I'll escort you to the coach house. It'll only take a moment for the groom to prepare the carriage—"
Ryan never got his protest off his tongue before Mel spoke resolutely.
"No. It's not a far walk, and I'll keep to the shadows just like we did on our way here. I don't want to make any more bother. Please .. ." Mel said when Hope opened her mouth to argue. "You've done far too much for us already."
Hope didn't look happy about the proposal, but Ryan said nothing when she looked to him to intervene. He sensed how difficult it was for Mel to sit in this rich room and accept Hope's lavish act of charity. He wouldn't argue Hope's case in this particular circumstance. Knowing what he knew about Ramiro's character made him even more certain that Mel would feel miserable if she were forced to ride in the grand carriage for the twelve blocks to the Marlborough Club.
"Let me at least get you a coat, then," Hope conceded when she saw that Mel wouldn't waver and Ryan would not plead her cause.
Mel met Ryan's eyes and nodded once in thanks before she followed Hope, off to start a different—hopefully better—life than she'd had under the hands of Diamond Jack Fletcher.
When Hope returned a moment later after showing Mel out, Ryan was waiting for her by the door. He grabbed her hand and spun her into his arms.
"Ryan!" she exclaimed softly, her tone slightly scandalized, before he covered her mouth with his.
"Yes?" he said a moment later when he raised his head. He studied her bemused, shadowed face. "Just because you've donned the clothes of a lady doesn't mean I'm not going to kiss the hell out of you every chance I get, witch. I remember what you look like in that excuse for a nightgown. I know what you look like naked—the knowledge is burned into my brain, in fact. So don't plan on getting all proper and ladylike with me now."
Her dark eyes went wide before a grin curved her lips. Ryan couldn't unglue his eyes from the luscious confection of Hope Stillwater's smile.
"The social proprieties between men and women must be very different in the year 2008
compared to now," she said a tad nervously.
Ryan's brow crinkled in puzzlement when he saw her color deepen. "Hope, are you forgetting the things we've done together?"
Her mouth fell open in disbelief, apparently at the fact that Ryan had just been bold enough to mention that they'd had carnal knowledge of one another in the refined atmosphere of the drawing room.
"Are you referring to .. . to . .." When Ryan just stared at her, his confusion probably writ large on his face, she found it in herself to continue in a nearly inaudible whisper. "Those things happened in the bedroom, Ryan. This is not the bedroom."
He just stared at her in amazement before he grinned. How strange. Hope glanced warily around the room as if she thought
morally upright, scandalized denizens were going to crawl out of the woodwork at any moment, preaching and pointing their fingers at her accusingly. God, it was going to be a bitch of a challenge to take her to the year 2008.
But challenge or not, he needed to get her there.
He nipped at the shell of her ear and felt her shiver.
"I was wondering when you were going to start acting like an early-twentieth-century woman. Is this modest streak the reason you wouldn't allow me to go to your bedroom with you?"
"Ryan, in my day and age, it would be very ungentlemanly for a man to speak of my bedroom. Even to think of my private sanctuary would be considered ... unseemly," Hope murmured as she turned her head and nuzzled his cheek while he kissed her ear and neck.
Her soft sigh and warm breath caused his skin to roughen in excitement.
"I've made love to you in your bedroom, Hope. I live in your bed-oom. Your bedroom is my bedroom," Ryan whispered next to her ear. "Don't you think we might suspend the typical formalities?" The return of the mischievous sparkle to her eyes made him unduly happy. "I suppose so, considering the highly unusual state of circumstances."
He lifted his head and plucked at her upturned lips. "So let's go to your bedroom then."
"Ryan, I can't think about that now! I have to go to my father. should go this moment. I saw his lights on when I snuck up to my room and I heard voices coming from his suite. I think he's conversing with the police. I'm sure the coachman has long ago in-formed him that I never met him at the carriage. My father must be frantic with worry."
"Hope, listen to me. This is important." Ryan tightened his hold on her, feeling her skirt press against his thighs along with layers of other material beneath it. He would have thought he wouldn't like the sensation of so much fabric separating him from her. Instead he found himself getting aroused by knowing that her warm, responsive body resided amidst all those swishy, feminine ruffles.