Ruined by Moonlight by Emma Wildes

earl was the last woman he’d attempt to seduce.
    But it appeared someone had plotted for him to make that very mistake. A picture had begun to form in his mind to what the purpose of all this might be. He had lain awake long after she’d fallen asleep and contemplated their plight with as much detachment as possible and there seemed to be several inescapable truths.
    They didn’t seem to be in physical danger but just held together against their will. One bed, and no other entertainment to pass the time but each other? Was it intended that he persuade her to spend that time in the way men and women had been entertaining each other since the beginning of the human race?
    Yes.
    If nothing else, the combination of his reputation and her dazzling beauty had led him to that conclusion.
    She stirred then, just a slight sigh and a restive shift of her body. Ran took the opportunity to move also, carefully easing his arm away and edging back enough that they were no longer touching, and propping himself on one elbow. He should probably leave the bed, but the room held a slight chill and it wasn’t as if he had anywhere else in particular to go.
    It must have been close to dawn, for there was enough jeweled light he could watch her wake. The slight parting of her soft lips, the flutter of her long lashes, the quiver of her fingers near her cheek; if he’d really been her lover he might have smoothed back a loose tendril of hair from the curve of her slender shoulder.…
    But he wasn’t. He was instead a practical and worldly man, and even though Whitbridge’s daughter claimed innocence in how they’d come to be in their current circumstances—and he was tempted to believe her—that didn’t mean the situation was if not
caused
by her, still
because
of her.
    For instance, if she needed a father for a child she carried, no one would believe him if he declined to accept responsibility. The accusation alone would not be enough to force his hand, for he also had wealth and power, but if the plan was for them to be found together, his choices would be limited. Just by sharing the bed he’d essentially compromised her.
    Elena’s eyes opened and though it was hard to read the expression on her face, he sensed it was momentary confusion by the swift way she glanced around and sat up, her long hair trailing in a mass of silken curls down her back.
    “Good morning,” he said ironically. “Or I assume it is morning by the way the window is beginning to glow.”
    “It wasn’t a dream.” Her voice was still subdued with sleep and unflatteringly disappointed.
    As he’d had a similar reaction, he could hardly fault her. “I am afraid not.”
    She unnecessarily gathered up the sheet and modestly tugged it up to her neck, apparently unaware he really could hardly see her in the dim lighting, and the evening before he’d committed it all quite nicely to memory anyway. He’d always had a penchant for voluptuous beauties, but her slenderness accented the curves of both breast and hip, and while
voluptuous
didn’t apply, she was alluring and feminine—and all too close for comfort.
    The lovely Elena brushed back her hair, her sigh heartfelt. “It is rather incomprehensible. I was hoping to awaken elsewhere.”
    “Yes.”
Incomprehensible
. Both their plight and that he’d spent the night with her in his arms. “I agree.”
    He slid out of the bed, wincing as his bare feet hit the cold floor, and headed for the screen. He took care of relieving himself and rinsed his hands in the now-cool water, wondering just how he could keep from going mad if he had to stay locked in this room all day again. When he emerged Lady Elena was untangling her hair with her fingers, and her eyes looked huge in the lessening gloom. She said, “Surely by now my parents are beside themselves.”
    A day and a half, he reflected with savage vehemence. Her parents were not the only ones who would be concerned. “I have a meeting with the prime minister