Confessions at Midnight

'It's hardly surprising that someone as unethical as Lord Tolliver has shown himself to be would lie about shooting at you,' Carolyn said.

'I agree. I'll still keep my guard up, but I think it's clear we've got our man. I'd meant to tell you as soon as I saw you, but…' His eyes darkened. '… you distracted me.'

She hoisted a teasing brow. 'Hmmm. That sounds distinctly like a complaint.'

He leaned forward and lightly clasped one of her gloved hands. Warmth skittered up her arm. 'My only compliant is that we're not so occupied right now.' He brushed his fingertips against the sensitive skin of her inner wrist, just above the edge of her glove. 'You are… amazing.'

'A word I could just as easily use to describe you, my lord.'

He made a tsking sound. 'Surely you haven't already forgotten that such formality is no longer necessary.' As if to prove his point, he slipped one long finger beneath the edge of her glove to slowly stroke her palm.

She sucked a quick breath at the intimacy of the gesture and shook her head. 'I haven't forgotten,' she said in a shaky whisper. Dear God, if she lived to be one hundred she'd never forget what they'd shared.

'Of course if you had forgotten,' he continued, his heated gaze locked on hers, 'I suppose I'd have to remind you.' He heaved an exaggerated sigh. 'A heinous task, but I'd endeavor to take it like a man.'

Determined not to allow him the upper hand, she leaned forward and set her free hand on his knee. 'I assure you I'm in no danger of forgetting, Daniel.' She glided her hand slowly up his leg. 'However, I would welcome you reminding me. Any time you'd care to do so. And as for taking it like a man…' She brushed her fingers over the bulge in his breeches, enjoying his quick intake of breath.'… I greatly anticipate discovering exactly how much you can take.'

His eyes seemed to breathe smoke. 'Just as I anticipate discovering the same thing about you.'

'How nice that we are in agreement.'

'I believe that 'nice' is a rather tepid word to describe anything that will transpire between us, my lady, but I suppose it will do. For now.'

''My lady?'' She copied his earlier tsking sound and repeated his words. 'Surely you haven't already forgotten that such formality is no longer necessary.'

'I haven't forgotten. Indeed, should I live into the next century I'll never forget what we've shared.'

His words so closely mirrored her earlier thoughts she ridiculously wondered if perhaps he could read minds.

'In your sitting room, you said you had a confession to make,' he said, his finger continuing to lightly stroke beneath her glove with a leisurely, drugging rhythm, 'but you never told me what it was. I would have asked you at the time, but I was, um, distracted.'

She skimmed her hand along the inside of his thigh. 'I stole your breeches.'

His muscles contracted beneath her touch and he shot a pointed look at her hand on his leg. 'Clearly you haven't. Unfortunately.'

She laughed. 'Not these breeches. And not today. It was during Matthew's house party. The ladies devised a scavenger hunt of sorts. My mission was to procure a pair of your breeches. I entered your bedchamber when I knew you wouldn't be about and just like that…' She lifted her hand from his leg to snap her fingers. '… I made off with your breeches.'

He grabbed her hand and settled it right back on his leg. 'Fascinating. If I'd suspected you were going to skulk about in my bedchamber, I never would have left.'

She lifted her chin. 'I wasn't skulking. I was…' Her voice trailed off as she searched for a less incriminating word.

'Lurking?' he suggested. 'Prowling?'

She hiked her chin higher. 'I was merely doing my duty to the game.'

'I see. I didn't notice I was missing a pair of breeches.'

'I returned them before the house party ended. So I didn't really steal them-I merely borrowed them.'

'Ah. So you visited my bedchamber twice without my knowledge during the house party.'

'Yes.'

'And what did you do with my breeches once you'd borrowed them?'

Feeling outrageously daring, she decided to be absolutely honest with him. 'I brought them to my bedchamber. I held them against me and thought of you. Of how you looked wearing them. And imagined how you would look without them.' Heat suffused her at her admission, a truth she'd stubbornly refused to acknowledge at the time.

Unmistakable interest flared in his eyes and he slid his finger from her glove. Leaning down, he grasped her ankle and lifted her foot onto his lap. After removing her shoe, he massaged her stockinged foot, eliciting a low groan of delight from her.

'Have I mentioned that I adore having my feet rubbed?' she asked as all her muscles turned to the consistency of porridge.

'You didn't say so, but it was fairly easy to ascertain.' His fingers performed some form of magic on her instep and she moaned. His wicked grin flashed. 'The moaning and groaning is a bit of a giveaway.'

'I imagine, oooohhh myyyyy… that it is.'

'Tell me, how did you imagine I would look without my breeches, Carolyn?'

A long purr vibrated in her throat and she regarded him through eyes drooped half closed with the pleasure radiating upward from her foot. 'Wonderful. But the reality proved even better than my imagination, which was quite fertile, I assure you.'

His expression turned grave. 'I must admit your confession disappoints me.'

A fissure of embarrassment shivered through her. 'I know it was wrong of me to do, but-'

'I'm not disappointed at what you did but rather at your timing. I wish I'd been present when you came into my bedchamber. Twice.'

God help her, but part of her had wanted him to be there as well-something she hadn't been able to admit to herself at the time. 'What would you have done if you had been present?' she asked in a breathless voice.

Fire ignited in his gaze, but before he could reply, the carriage jerked to a halt. He glanced out the window. 'As we've arrived, I'll have to tell you later,' he said, slipping her shoe back on then gently setting her foot on the floor. 'Or better yet, I'll show you.'

She barely resisted the urge to demand that they return home at once so he could show her now. Instead she adopted a sedate manner completely at odds with the inferno burning within her and looked out the window. And realized where they were.

'Gunter's?' she said, staring at the sign marking London's most famous confectioner's shop at number seven Berkeley Square. A smile curved her lips. 'I adore Gunter's!'

He smiled in return. 'As do I. It's my favorite London shop.'

'Even more so than your tailor?' she teased. 'You do have a reputation for being meticulous about your clothing.'

'Gunter's is my favorite shop, bar none,' he said, his voice perfectly serious. 'It appears I have a weakness for fruit flavored ices.' His gaze skimmed over her. 'Among other things.'

How she could still blush after the intimacies they'd shared, she had no idea. To hide the heat suffusing her cheeks, she picked up her reticule in preparation for exiting the carriage. 'Edward and I used to…' Her voice trailed off awkwardly and she looked at the ground. Surely she shouldn't be speaking of Edward to her lover. Doing so smacked of disloyalty, to both Edward and Daniel. And reminded her of her lingering feelings of guilt at taking a lover-feelings she'd prefer to ignore.

She cleared her throat and finished, 'We frequented Gunter's whenever we visited London.'

'Carolyn.'

He said her name so softly, so kindly, a lump lodged in her throat. When she looked up, she noted his eyes held the same kindness as his tone. 'I don't begrudge you your memories of Edward, nor do I want you to feel that you cannot talk about him with me.' He hesitated then added, 'I knew you'd come here with Edward at least once, as I saw you.'