asked in a hesitant voice.
He contemplated her hindquarters before glancing up again. “I was thinking how peculiar life is.”
“It’s hardly the time to turn philosophical,” she said with a frown.
He grinned.
This was the closest encounter they’d had in years. She was literally a captive audience, in a position he had dreamed about, and even though it wasn’t a situation conducive to lovemaking, he hadn’t come through hell to give her up without a fight.
He shook his head in bemusement. “In all the years we’ve been apart, I constantly wondered how you passed your time.”
“And now that your curiosity has been satisfied?”
He regarded her with a thin smile. “My curiosity hasn’t been satisfied at all. I have more questions than ever about your activities, although I’ll confess that during my worst moments I never pictured you in this situation.”
“No? Then how did you picture me?”
“I suppose I was afraid that I would have rivals for your affection. Gentlemen who considered an absent husband not a liability but a lure.”
She blinked as he slipped his hand around her bottom. “I’ve been at no man’s mercy until this moment,” she said. “Your imagination deceived you.”
“I’m relieved to hear that,” he said after a pause. “However, I never imagined that my wife was involved in any manner of subterfuge. Or that my rival was to be you.”
“But once you found out—”
“I rushed back to your side, alarmed for your safety.” He gave the length of wool a tug. “You’re free,” he said, tossing her squashed tail into her lap. “You can get up.”
She rose from her uncomfortable crouch, studying him in—well, he couldn’t decide what that look on her face meant. He decided he’d done a reasonable job of concealing his own thoughts considering that he’d not only wanted to liberate her tail but to remove the whole damned costume and have his way with her.
She settled back against the squabs. “Thank you,” she said guardedly.
He shrugged, staring out the window so that he wouldn’t be tempted to take her in his arms again until they got home. A man who couldn’t control himself in a moving carriage could hardly hope to assert control in more important matters. “It was nothing,” he said. “Any husband would have done the same.”
Chapter Six
But he wasn’t any husband.
And she did not wish to be any wife.
Eleanor felt her heart pounding in countertime to the hoofbeats against the cobbles. She stole another peep at his angular profile. The night shadows suited his dark countenance. She had exerted all her willpower to keep from crumpling in his arms. She clasped her hands together, quickly looking away as he turned his head.
Too late.
His brooding glance met hers. A pleasant languor stole over her. She had not felt this helpless in years.
She forced herself to stare back into his fathomless blue eyes.
A flame of excitement caught in the air between them before he finally looked away.
She unclasped her hands, the blood flowing back stingingly through her veins. She had lived without him. She could do so again.
And yet she had seen desire in his eyes. What was he waiting for? How long could she continue topretend that while the wounded part of her wanted to order him out of her life, the other part simply wanted—him? Years of his unexplained absence, of hoping for word to assure her that he was even alive. She had been lonely and furious. She understood that he did not wish to admit what kind of work he had done.
But what kind of man had he become? What dark deeds
had
he committed in the Crown’s name?
Did it make a difference?
Could she resist him?
Cynicism had sculpted intriguing creases in his face. She couldn’t keep from staring at him at the ball tonight. Sebastien had never been a shy man. Nor one who kept secrets. Now she sensed something calculating about him. Even his laugh held an edge that had charged the evening with an
He contemplated her hindquarters before glancing up again. “I was thinking how peculiar life is.”
“It’s hardly the time to turn philosophical,” she said with a frown.
He grinned.
This was the closest encounter they’d had in years. She was literally a captive audience, in a position he had dreamed about, and even though it wasn’t a situation conducive to lovemaking, he hadn’t come through hell to give her up without a fight.
He shook his head in bemusement. “In all the years we’ve been apart, I constantly wondered how you passed your time.”
“And now that your curiosity has been satisfied?”
He regarded her with a thin smile. “My curiosity hasn’t been satisfied at all. I have more questions than ever about your activities, although I’ll confess that during my worst moments I never pictured you in this situation.”
“No? Then how did you picture me?”
“I suppose I was afraid that I would have rivals for your affection. Gentlemen who considered an absent husband not a liability but a lure.”
She blinked as he slipped his hand around her bottom. “I’ve been at no man’s mercy until this moment,” she said. “Your imagination deceived you.”
“I’m relieved to hear that,” he said after a pause. “However, I never imagined that my wife was involved in any manner of subterfuge. Or that my rival was to be you.”
“But once you found out—”
“I rushed back to your side, alarmed for your safety.” He gave the length of wool a tug. “You’re free,” he said, tossing her squashed tail into her lap. “You can get up.”
She rose from her uncomfortable crouch, studying him in—well, he couldn’t decide what that look on her face meant. He decided he’d done a reasonable job of concealing his own thoughts considering that he’d not only wanted to liberate her tail but to remove the whole damned costume and have his way with her.
She settled back against the squabs. “Thank you,” she said guardedly.
He shrugged, staring out the window so that he wouldn’t be tempted to take her in his arms again until they got home. A man who couldn’t control himself in a moving carriage could hardly hope to assert control in more important matters. “It was nothing,” he said. “Any husband would have done the same.”
Chapter Six
But he wasn’t any husband.
And she did not wish to be any wife.
Eleanor felt her heart pounding in countertime to the hoofbeats against the cobbles. She stole another peep at his angular profile. The night shadows suited his dark countenance. She had exerted all her willpower to keep from crumpling in his arms. She clasped her hands together, quickly looking away as he turned his head.
Too late.
His brooding glance met hers. A pleasant languor stole over her. She had not felt this helpless in years.
She forced herself to stare back into his fathomless blue eyes.
A flame of excitement caught in the air between them before he finally looked away.
She unclasped her hands, the blood flowing back stingingly through her veins. She had lived without him. She could do so again.
And yet she had seen desire in his eyes. What was he waiting for? How long could she continue topretend that while the wounded part of her wanted to order him out of her life, the other part simply wanted—him? Years of his unexplained absence, of hoping for word to assure her that he was even alive. She had been lonely and furious. She understood that he did not wish to admit what kind of work he had done.
But what kind of man had he become? What dark deeds
had
he committed in the Crown’s name?
Did it make a difference?
Could she resist him?
Cynicism had sculpted intriguing creases in his face. She couldn’t keep from staring at him at the ball tonight. Sebastien had never been a shy man. Nor one who kept secrets. Now she sensed something calculating about him. Even his laugh held an edge that had charged the evening with an
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