For several minutes, he saw, felt, needed nothing but Jilly’s face, her lips, her skin, soft against his own.
There were a few quick, passionate tugs on clothing, yanking off of shoes, interspersed with hot, hot kisses.
And before he knew it, they were both naked, and he was kissing her breasts, suckling them, running his tongue and teeth over them. She moaned and threw her legs wide, and he teased her with his fingers while she caressed him to the hardness of steel.
And then in the midst of warmth, softness, hardness, exquisite sensation—and bursts of color from tossed pillows, a scrunched emerald gown, ebony hair, and ruby lips—he thrust into her.
She cried out.
He immediately stopped, his chest constricting. “What is it?”
She swallowed. “Hector couldn’t do this,” she whispered.
“Oh, my God,” Stephen said, understanding. “I’m so sorry—”
“No,” she said. “Don’t be. I’m glad … it was you.”
“Jilly.” He kissed her forehead with tender care, feeling the enormity of the trust she’d placed in him.
She encouraged him to continue by arching her back, kissing him madly, and caressing him all over with her hands, even with her thighs and calves, which she rubbed with great tenderness against his own legs and back, twining herself close to him, like ivy wrapped around a railing.
When she cried out with satisfaction, he kissed her, and her moans subsided in his mouth. It wasn’t until then that he took his own pleasure, and her attention was both hot and sweet, entrancing him more than he thought possible.
When they were finished, he collapsed to the side of her and took her in his arms.
“I love you—” he said.
“I love you—” she said at the exact same time.
He chuckled, and so did she.
But then her expression, still soft, grew serious, too. She ran a finger down his cheek. “I’ll carry you in my heart for the rest of my life,” she whispered.
“And I you,” he said. “Forever, actually.” He smiled.
“Wait,” she said with a matching smile. “I meant forever, as well.”
“Good,” he said gruffly. “I couldn’t bear it otherwise.”
She gave him a slow, tender smile then and closed her eyes. She snuggled close, and Stephen wrapped his arms around her, his eyes on the ceiling.
Jilly fell into a light doze, and still he cradled her.
He didn’t know what he was doing. All he knew was that he had to do it. He wasn’t himself anymore. He was himself and Jilly.
Yet they couldn’t be.
So what was he to do? Walk around the rest of his life with a heart severed in two by her absence?
She was
He closed his eyes, choosing not to think, to remain instead with that important thing that connected them.
He chose to remain with Jilly.
He shook her awake a quarter of an hour later.
“I need to go,” he said. “It’s just after noon.”
She sat up and leaned back on her hands. “I didn’t even think of Hector—”
“It’s all right.” Her breasts were full and beckoning to him with their pert tips. He caressed them with his palm, missing them—missing her—already. “Your door is locked. It’s easy enough to get out of here through the window.”
She bit her lip. “You’re quite resourceful.”
“Once a man has climbed rigging to the top of a mast on a heaving sea, scaling a wall a few stories high is nothing.”
They grinned together.
And then he kissed her.
When he pulled back, he saw it in her eyes, the wistfulness he felt.
“Oh, Stephen,” she whispered.
He looked at her unblinkingly. “Don’t think about it,” he said gently.
She swallowed. “I’ll miss you. Can you come back?”
He stopped breathing for a moment. “I’m not sure I can. We were very fortunate this morning.” He slid out of bed, pulled on his breeches, and felt the world closing in again.
“I’m going to be there tomorrow,” Jilly piped up almost gaily. “At the fair.”
He paused in his dressing and smiled. “That’s what Otis tells me.”
She nodded. “I’ll find a way.”
“What if Hector comes, too?”
She winced. “That won’t happen.”
“All of London will know about the fair, if Prinny’s claims are true. And how do you expect to escape here?”
She jumped up, completely naked, and came to him. Pressing her hands on his chest, she said, “Don’t worry.”
He took her wrists. “I can’t help but worry about you with that—that dog.”
She reached up and kissed his lips. “That sweet thought alone will sustain me until I see you again.”
He took her face in his hands and kissed her one last time. “Take care,” he whispered.
Saying good-bye was not an option.
She hovered over him as he opened the window and crawled out. He found a foothold on the trellis and clung to the window sash for a few more precious seconds.
“Be careful,” she whispered.
He winked. “Don’t worry. Now go. Otherwise, you’ll serve as a wicked distraction and I’ll fall to my death.”
“Oh, no.” She put her hand to her mouth. “We can’t have that.”
He waited patiently for her to retreat.
It was the saddest thing he’d ever seen, when her face finally disappeared from view.
Because who knew when he’d see her again?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
When Jilly woke the next morning, the first thought she had was of Stephen, of course. But the second wasn’t of Hector.
It was about the fair. She wondered if Alicia Fotherington had felt the same way when she’d woken up on street fair mornings—excited, happy.
Jilly hopped out of bed and went through her morning ablutions as fast as she could. She still felt a pleasant ache between her legs where Stephen had left his imprint upon her and wished she could keep that feeling forever.
But she couldn’t. This she knew.
She was married to Hector.
Oh, if only her husband never had to intrude upon her thoughts! He was like a pesky fly buzzing around a picnic. No, make that a bee, she thought, a bee which could sting and cause the picnic-goers to scatter, their food and drink untouched.
Yes, Hector was a bee, an angry, buzzing bee, too. When he’d returned yesterday afternoon from wherever he’d gone, he’d been in a sour mood. Which wasn’t unusual, but he seemed particularly agitated about
