Jacquie D’Alessandro - Touch Me

No reason except the whirlwind of thoughts spinning through her mind in regard to tonight’s break-in and its ramifications. And in regard to Simon Cooper.

She’d paced the length of the room for the past two hours, trying to make sense of tonight’s events. Yet all her pacing had only resulted in a plethora of unanswered questions. She’d initially considered the break-in to be a further threat against Charles Brightmore, but she’d discarded that idea the instant she’d discovered the alabaster box missing. Richard’s note had stated he would come for the box. Had he visited the cottage tonight-or had he sent someone in his place? But surely Richard wouldn’t have hurt Baxter. Perhaps he hadn’t realized it was him-although who else would her former lover have thought would be in her house? Then again, she hadn’t believed Richard capable of hurting her the way he had, and she’d been proven profoundly wrong about that.

If the intruder was someone acting on Richard’s behalf, that meant Richard hadn’t wanted to see her. Had he suspected she’d intended to confront him, force him to utter the words he’d been too cowardly to say to her face? Or had Richard himself come to her bedchamber under the cover of darkness to regain the puzzle box and the letter hidden inside? Her instincts told her no. Richard had proven himself too weak to do something as violent as strike someone-especially a man who outweighed him by at least five stone. And he’d made it perfectly clear he no longer desired her. Therefore why risk encountering her in her bedchamber? Unless he’d been spying on her and knew she’d left the house.

The questions that had plagued her since she’d received the box once again drifted through her mind. Why had Richard sent it to her? What was the significance of the letter she’d found hidden inside? Richard was a powerful man, a growing force in politics. The letter was obviously very important to him, enough that he’d entrusted it to her for safekeeping. Why?

The more she thought on the matter, the more convinced she was that Richard himself wasn’t the intruder. And that led to the question-was the culprit acting for Richard, or against him? Richard had written that she was the only one he could trust. Were the puzzle box and the letter hidden inside important to someone other than him? Were they important enough that a man would be attacked and her home ransacked? And would the intruder be back when he realized that although he’d stolen the box, he hadn’t found the letter?

She experienced a small thrill of triumph over that, but then quickly sobered. Perhaps it would have been better if the letter had been found. Anger seethed through her that someone had hurt Baxter, had violated her home, her sanctuary and had pawed through her personal possessions. If the letter had been found, then she’d no longer be involved in whatever this madness was and she could simply concentrate on her own life.

Which brought her back to Simon Cooper.

Genevieve paused in her pacing to stare into the flames dancing in the hearth. Dear God, she was consumed with thoughts of him, her body on fire for wanting him. There were reasons why she shouldn’t enter into a liaison with him, but every time her mind listed them, her heart discarded them.

He was a stranger. Who’d proven himself charming, disarming, witty, generous, and brave. He was a hardworking man-not a bored aristocrat. She had secrets she couldn’t share. He hasn’t made any demands or asked you to share anything…except your body. He’d be leaving Little Longstone in two weeks’ time. I’m not looking for a long-term arrangement, so why not enjoy him for the short time he’s here?

Why not, indeed?

In the Ladies’ Guide, she had advised Today’s Modern Woman that the best way to forget one man, to exorcise him from one’s mind, was to have another man. Although truth be known, except for his connection to the puzzle box, she hadn’t spared Richard a single thought since first laying eyes on Simon.

Simon…

She heaved the sort of gushy, feminine sigh she’d believed herself long past releasing. Their interlude in the springs had opened a door she’d firmly slammed when Richard had left her, one she’d not only planned never to open again, but one she’d never dreamed of having the opportunity to open. Of course, as Simon had pointed out, there was the possibility of scandal should anyone discover their affair. But she knew how to be discreet, and given his concern for the matter, she didn’t doubt he did as well. As for pregnancy, she was well-acquainted with the various methods of preventing it. But given her courses were due to begin in only a few days, she wasn’t concerned on that score.

No, her hesitation all boiled down to one thing. She glanced down at her gloves. At the hot spring, she’d been able to submerge her hands in the water, but here there was nowhere to hide. Thanks to her soak in the warm water and a liberal application of her cream, the ache in her joints right now was minimal. Yet by morning she knew the stiffness and swelling would return. Of course, she didn’t have to spend the entire night in his bed…

It would only take a few hours, in the dark, to put out this fire he’d ignited inside her, an inferno that was consuming her. Rather than sating her, her earlier climax had only served to further fuel her hunger. So long as they remained in darkness, she could keep her hands hidden. And they could enjoy each other for the short time he was here. She never thought she’d have the opportunity to be with a man again, never believed that any man would desire her again. The fact that Simon did, and that she wanted him so badly…it was a temptation she simply couldn’t resist.

Thus resolved, she quietly left her room and walked down the corridor, halting in front of the door leading to Simon’s bedchamber. Was he asleep? Or was he, like her, restless and aroused and consumed with desire.

Only one way to find out, her inner voice urged her.

She debated knocking, but instead slowly turned the brass handle. The door silently opened and she slipped inside, closing the oak panel then turning the key in the lock. No fire burned in the grate and the curtains were drawn, cloaking the room in deep shadows. The room was cool from the lack of a fire and smelled of Simon-clean, with a hint of sandalwood.

She hesitated, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. And suddenly she saw him, or rather the shadowy outline of him, rising from a chair set before the empty hearth. With her heart pounding she watched him approach. It was so dark she couldn’t make out his features until he halted directly in front of her. Then she saw the desire in his eyes, felt the heat pumping off him. That warmth, the delicious scent of him all but rendered her woozy with yearning.

“I was hoping you’d come,” he said quietly. “You’re certain?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. But I have two requests.”

Simon pulled in a slow, unsteady breath. He’d sat in the dark for the last two hours, watching the fire burn to ashes, wanting her, his body aching for her, willing her to come to him, and more afraid than he cared to admit that she wouldn’t. And now here she was. Bloody hell, it was all he could do not to simply jerk her into his arms and drag her to the floor.

“I’ll do everything I can to grant them,” he said. Indeed, he couldn’t imagine denying her anything. “Tell me what you want.”

“Darkness.”

He pushed aside his twinge of disappointment. He wanted, very much to see her every movement, each expression, her gorgeous eyes dilated with passion. “Very well, although I’m sorry not to be able to see you better.” Forcing himself to move slowly, he reached out and untied the ribbon from the bottom of her braid then sifted his fingers through her hair. Soft curls spilled over his wrists, releasing the delicate scent of roses. He wrapped silky strands around his fist then brought them to his face to breathe deeply of their floral fragrance. “What is your second request?”