Confessions at Midnight

The voice inside her answered No! so quickly, so emphatically, so loudly, it almost seemed as if she'd said it out loud.

'No, what?' he asked with a questioning look.

Dear God, she had said it out loud. 'Nothing,' she said, then speedily added, 'I recall you telling me that you don't like to share. Yet your actions belie your words, Lord Surbrooke.'

'Daniel… my extremely lovely, very dear, greatly talented, highly amusing, extraordinarily intelligent, possessor of the most kissable lips I've ever seen, as well as an excellent memory, Lady Wingate.' He blew out an exaggerated breath. 'That is getting to be rather a mouthful, you know. You could put me out of my misery.'

She pretended she hadn't heard him say kissable lips. 'And miss hearing what you'll come up with next? I think not.'

'Just my luck. As for my assertion that I don't like to share, I suppose I should clarify my statement. It depends on what I'm sharing.' His glittering gaze seemed to burn through her clothing, to scorch her skin. 'And whom I'm sharing it with.'

And with those few words, a plethora of images bombarded her-of him and her sharing. Heated kisses. Sensual touches. Their bodies.

Myriad wants and needs and emotions swamped her, confusing her, leaving her flustered and completely tongue-tied. She licked her suddenly dry lips, then stilled as he watched the gesture.

She had to swallow twice to locate her voice. 'Samuel is fortunate to have found you.'

'Actually, I am the fortunate one.' He hesitated, as if debating whether to continue, then finally said, 'Before he came to work for me, my life had become… unfulfilling. Samuel's charitable endeavors have given me something worthwhile and productive to do. Helping him makes me feel useful. And has brought home the cold, stark reality of the over whelming number of animals-and people-in desperate need of help.'

She nodded slowly, soaking in words she never would have attributed to him. A fissure of shame rippled through her at the realization of how deeply she'd obviously misjudged him. 'When you say your life had become unfulfilling, what do you mean?'

'I felt a mounting, frustrating sense of restlessness. Boredom. Emptiness. And really, more that anything, uselessness.'

'But what of the earldom? Your properties?'

'That doesn't require as much of my time as you might think. I have an excellent steward who keep things running so smoothly I'm barely needed. My households are flawlessly run. I could go away for months and not a ripple would occur on the calm water of my earldom.' Carolyn noted his eyes were filled with shadows, and wished she knew the cause of them.

Then he flashed a quick smile. 'Gets rather tiresome, not being needed. Thanks to Samuel and the animals, I'm feeling a great deal less of that.'

'You are very fortunate, my lord. I've suffered from feelings similar to those you described. Unlike you however, I haven't yet found an activity or cause to alleviate the emptiness.' She rarely discussed such things with anyone other than Sarah, yet before she could stop herself, she found herself saying, 'I've discovered it's very difficult to go from being needed on a daily basis to not being needed at all.'

He straighten his slouched position and shook his lead. 'You are mistaken. Your sister, your friends, hey need you and care for you deeply. I've seen it every time we're all together.'

'I know that, of course. However, Emily and Julianne have their own families, and now Sarah is married.'

'And you're wondering exactly where you fit in.' Her gaze searched his. 'You sound as if you know tow that feels.'

'Most likely because I do. Precisely. And although I realize you've had to make difficult adjustments I wouldn't wish on anyone, I still find myself envious of the fact that for at least a period of time you felt needed every day.'

His words, the sadness lurking in his eyes, rendered her speechless. Before she could even think of a reply, he blinked several times, as if coming out of a trance. A rueful smile curved his lips. 'Egad, pardon me for allowing the conversation to turn so… maudlin.'

As she wasn't certain how to tell him that she actualy found his unguarded words fascinating, she instead forced a light tone and asked, 'You'd prefer to discuss the weather?'

'Actually, no. That isn't what I'd prefer at all.'

'Oh? And what is your preference?'

Her breath caught at the heated look that flared in his eyes. His gaze wandered slowly down her form, lingering for several seconds on her ankles before traveling back up. By the time their gazes once again met, his eyes glittered with a combination of heat and mischievous intent that rendered her barely able to pull any air into her lungs.

He reached out and lightly brushed his fingers over the back of her hand. 'I would like, very much, to see your tree climbing scar.'

Chapter Eleven

My lover enjoyed billiards but found a new appreciation for the game when I hiked up my skirts and bent provocatively over the table. He especially enjoyed this new sport when I neglected to don my drawers. Indeed, after two shattering climaxes, I gained a new appreciation for the game myself.

Memoirs of a Mistress by An Anonymous Lady

Carolyn blinked. Out of all the possible things he could have preferred, such as a kiss-and after that teasing touch to her hand and the simmering heat in his eyes, which seemed like such promising precursors to a kiss-what he wanted most was to see her scar?

Damnation. How could she have thought him charming and intelligent when clearly 'irritating' and 'nincompoop' were far more apt descriptions? Before she could even think up a reply to his request, he lowered himself to one knee in front of her and his fingers slipped beneath the hem of her gown to lightly grasp her left ankle. Warmth raced up her leg, and even as her mind commanded her to move away from his touch, her body refused to obey.

'Is it on this ankle?' he asked, setting her left foot on his upraised knee. He removed her shoe and gently massaged her instep.

A soft gasp escaped her, then she pressed her lips together to contain the moan of delight that threatened to escape at the delicious kneading. Pleasure skittered up her leg, settling low in her belly.

Dear God, she adored having her feet rubbed. And he was so good at it. And it had been so long since she'd felt such exquisite bliss. His caress was going to melt her spine. She'd wilt into a boneless, quivering mass of ecstasy then slither right onto the tiles.

'This ankle?' he repeated.

Not trusting her voice, she merely shook her head.

'Ah, the right ankle, then.' But instead of releasing her left foot, his hands slowly moved upward, over her calf, never ceasing their delicious rubbing. Her fingers clutched the brocade cushion as she struggled not to squirm in delight.

When he reached her knee, she watched in shocked, wordless wonder as he slipped off her ribbon garter then slowly rolled down her stocking. The whisper of silk sliding over her flesh tingled heated tremors through her, but they faded to insignificance at the incredible sensation of his hands against her bare skin. After he set aside her stocking, he slowly pushed her gown and petticoat up to her knees.

Her bare toes curled against his muscular thigh. The sight of him on one knee before her, his dark head bent to