Chapter Nineteen
Long after Jocelyn had fallen asleep, Sebastian lay staring up at the ceiling, letting his hand idly drift up and down her back. This evening had been everything he’d imagined it could be... right up until she’d said those things about marriage, about no one ever having to know they’d been together.
He didn’t know why it had upset him so much. It wasn’t as though he wanted to marry her.
Did he?
He supposed he just chafed at the reminder that he was holding a bloody countess in his arms. That he could never, not in a million years or after a dozen promotions, give her the kind of life that she already had without him. She didn’t need him for anything other than his body.
That shouldn’t bother him. Hell, he should be deliriously happy that she’d allowed him inside her, that she hadn’t demanded anything of him in return.
Instead, he found himself wishing that this didn’t have to end, that he could hold her in his arms every night.
What the hell was happening to him? What kind of a spell had she placed on him?
Or had he just finally fallen victim to the curse that had plagued humanity for millennia—love?
A shiver went through him at the thought, because if that was true, he’d fallen in an even tougher category—unrequited love.
With a groan, he carefully extricated himself from his sleeping countess and remade his bed, feeling odd to be doing it naked. Then he carried her there, placed her upon it, and climbed in next to her. She awoke for only a moment before smiling and snuggling against him once again.
Unable to stop from smiling himself, he hugged her close, pressed his face against her sweet-smelling hair, and fell asleep with her in his arms.
* * *
SEBASTIAN WOKE AS DAWN was breaking through the curtains of his bedroom. Jocelyn still lay beside him, her limbs intertwined with his. A strand of her hair tickled his nose, and he blew it away with a smile. He’d half-expected to wake and find last night was just a vivid, wonderful dream, but she was still here.
A soft sigh escaped her as she snuggled closer, like a kitten seeking warmth. His smile grew as he propped himself up on one arm and looked down at her, her wild auburn hair so vibrant against his white pillows, her lovely face so sweet and innocent in sleep.
There is a countess in my bed.
He still couldn’t believe it, never would have been able to even imagine such a thing could be possible. He’d had so few good things in his life that having her here seemed too much.
Winding a strand of her silky hair around his fingertip, he brought it to his nose and breathed in deeply, loving her scent, vanilla and lavender. She smelled of peace and home, everything sweet and lovely that had been missing from his life for so long.
He’d had a few lovers in his day, and he’d spent a few nights with Marina before he’d been shipped off, but none of them had come even close to the sensual delights he’d shared with Jocelyn.
He’d tried to make himself be content with the idea that she’d come into his life just to show him he was capable of caring for someone again. That he would be free now to find another, more suitable woman to become his wife and bear his children, but he knew that she had ruined him for anyone else.
Jocelyn Layton was the woman he wanted, and he could never truly have her.
Oh, he could occasionally have her like this, a sweet tumble in his bed, but she’d as much as told him that she would never marry him, never let anyone know about their relationship. She would never be the mother of his children, a thought he found surprisingly painful, given he hadn’t even thought of having children until recently.
She stretched and then blinked up at him, her green eyes owlish in her lovely face. “Good morning, Sebastian,” she whispered, her face flaming as she no doubt realized that she was naked in his arms.
“Good morning, darling,” he replied, kissing her playfully on the nose.
She grinned and scooted a bit away, tucking the sheet primly around her chest. “Did you carry me in here?”
He nodded. “I liked waking up with you by my side.”
“I like it, too,” she admitted. She shifted even further away from him, a troubled look crossing her face. “This is terribly embarrassing, but I really have to use the necessary.”
“It’s two doors down the hall. On the left,” he informed her, relieved that her frown wasn’t because she was regretting the entire encounter. “Would you like to borrow my robe?”
Her eyes widened almost comically. “It’s not in the flat? You share it with other people?”
The differences in their lifestyles came crashing down upon him once again. Of course, she would find that odd. She’d probably never had to share a water closet in her life. How shocked she would be to find that most people in this neighborhood didn’t have indoor plumbing at all, let alone the magnificent private chamber he’d caught a glimpse of when he was in her bedroom.