Red Roses Mean Love

manner. Yet I still wasn't good enough. What is wrong with me?'

A tortured sigh escaped him and he gathered her into his arms, burying his face in her soft, rose-scented hair.

'Hayley… Hayley,' he whispered against her ear. 'God. There is nothing wrong with you. You're the most extraordinary woman I've ever known. You're sweet and kind and generous…'He pulled back and cradled her face between his hands, gently brushing away her tears with his thumbs. 'You're an angel. I swear to God, you're an angel.'

'Then why-'

'I was thinking of you, of your happiness. I didn't want to spoil your chances with Popplepuss.'

'Popplemore.'

'Indeed.' His gaze probed hers and he forced himself to say the words he knew would hurt her. 'We both know I have to leave here. Soon.' Dear God. If you only knew how soon.

'I know,' she whispered.

'I didn't want to spoil your chances with another man. Trust me when I say the effort nearly killed me. I wanted to be with you, Hayley. I swear it. Lorelei Smythe cannot hold a candle to you.' He shook his head. 'The first time in my life I acted in a noble manner and I made a royal mess of things.'

'Did you… kiss her?'

'No. I had absolutely no desire to kiss her.' Relief swept through him when some of the pain faded from her eyes.

'Let me see if I understand you correctly. You wanted to be with me, but you wished to behave nobly by stepping aside and allowing Jeremy to pay attention to me because you're leaving Halstead soon and you didn't want to interfere with my chance for happiness with another man.' She looked at him, her brows raised questioningly. 'Is that correct?'

'That just about sums it up, yes.'

She shook her head. 'Good heavens, what a convoluted plan. How did you ever concoct such a ridiculous scheme?'

'It seemed like a capital idea at the time,' Stephen murmured. 'In fact, it might very well have worked, except for one thing.'

'What is that?'

He took her hands and raised them to his lips, tasting the salty tears clinging to her fingertips. 'Every time Popplepart touched you, every time he looked at you, spoke to you, I wanted to throttle the bastard.'

'Popplemore.'

'Indeed. It was all I could do not to cross the room, pick him up by his scrawny throat and fling him into the punch bowl.'

Her eyes grew round. 'Truly?'

Stephen nodded solemnly. 'Truly.' Knowing he was playing with fire but unable to stop himself, he kissed her fingers and touched his tongue to her rose-scented skin. Stop it! Tell her you're leaving. Tell her now and get out of her bedchamber. Before it's too late. Before you do something you'll both regret.

'Then would you … would you consider staying?'

He slowly raised his gaze to hers. Her cheeks burned with color, and her eyes, still damp with tears, were huge aqua pools reflecting a heartbreaking combination of uncertainty and hope. 'What?'

'If that's truly the way you feel, then don't leave Halstead. You can seek a position in the village, or somewhere nearby as a tutor. If all else fails, I'll hire you to tutor the boys and Callie.' A hesitant smile trembled on her lips. 'The children are all very fond of you, and Aunt Olivia thinks the sun rises and sets on you alone. You've even managed to charm Pierre, not an easy feat, let me assure you. We all want you to stay.' Her voice dropped to a whisper. 'I want you to stay.'

Stephen stared at her, robbed of speech. Why hadn't he anticipated that she'd ask him to stay? As far as she knew, he could work anywhere, so why not Halstead? Jesus, what a mess he'd made of things. He had to tell her immediately that there was no chance he could do what she asked.

'Hayley, I-'

'I love you, Stephen.'

The softly spoken sentiment rammed into Stephen, cutting off his words, all his thoughts entirely, eliminating his ability to breathe. Completely. Irrevocably. He looked at her, and clearly saw the words reflected in her gaze.

She loved him.

This wonderful, unselfish, beautiful angel loved him. He felt like a royal bastard. What was he going to do now?

'Hayley, I must tell you-'

She placed a single fingertip over his lips, cutting off his words. 'I didn't tell you so you'd feel obligated to say it back. I told you because I simply couldn't hold it in any longer. And I wanted you to know, to absolutely know without a doubt, that I want you to stay. And if you do stay, you will always be a welcome part of our family.'

A huge lump lodged itself smack in the middle of Stephen's throat. He tried to clear it away, but it remained firmly in place, like a lump of dry breadcrumbs. He closed his eyes and fought to control the battle raging inside him between his noble intentions and his desires. If he didn't get away from her quickly, he knew which one would claim victory. But it was impassible to think with her words echoing through him. I love you, Stephen. I love you, Stephen.

He didn't deserve her love. Jesus, she didn't even know who he really was. She was in love with Stephen Barrettson, gentleman tutor. She'd turn away from him in disgust if she knew he'd lied to her all this time-that he was really a dissolute nobleman with a string of paramours, a superficial excuse for a family, and a killer after him. The thought of her ever looking at him with disgust in her eyes, the trust and love fading from her gaze to be replaced with dislike, made Stephen ache with a hurt that sliced him in two.

He had to do what was best for her. No matter how much it cost him.

Drawing a deep breath, he resolutely took her by the shoulders. Looking into her eyes, he prayed she would see the depth of his regret. 'Hayley. I have nothing to offer you. I can't give you the things you deserve. The things I want for you. As much as I want to, I cannot.'

His words drained the shimmers of fragile hope from her eyes, extinguishing the gentle longing, leaving emptiness where want had trembled only moments ago. Her hurt sawed at his insides like a dull blade.

Pulling away from him, she walked to the window and stared out into the black night. He stared at her straight back, and it took every last ounce of strength he possessed not to go to her, to take her in his arms. Make her his own.

When she finally turned to face him, her fingers were knitted together and her gaze remained steadfastly downcast. 'I understand. Please forgive my shocking forwardness. Obviously you do not want…'Her voice trailed off and she squeezed her eyes shut.

The sight of her, crushed and humiliated, destroyed him, shattering him from the inside out. He closed the space between them in two long strides and gripped her shoulders. 'Do not want? Do not want?' He drew a ragged breath and a mirthless laugh escaped his throat. 'God Almighty, Hayley, I want you so badly, I'm shaking. I want you so much I can't sleep at night. I ache for you all the time.'

He captured her hand and dragged it to the front of his breeches, pressing her palm against the hard ridge of flesh there. 'That is how much I want you. Constantly. Whatever else you think, don't ever think I don't want you.'

Hayley froze, the heat of Stephen's manhood pulsing against her palm. Emotions battered her from all sides, like a ship caught in a hurricane's fury. He wanted her. Not in the same way she wanted him, but the evidence of his desire for her was real and unmistakable. And so very compelling.

Her mind rebelled against her yearnings, screaming that she had so much to lose, so much to risk. Her reputation, her family's respect. What if she became pregnant?

Yet her heart simply would not be denied. She was six and twenty years old. In all those years she'd been many things. A sister, daughter, friend, nurse, caregiver.