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Authors: Nicole Jordan
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naked man who had plumbed the secrets of her body the night before.
The stomach-tightening awareness of his maleness made her feel shy and uncertain. She wanted to appear casual and sophisticated, but she was in way over her head, Skye silently admitted. How did one behave after a blazing night of passion with a new lover? With a
first
lover?
Suddenly she wished she had fled before the earl had awakened. But that would have been cowardly. She would just have to brave it out.
“I decided to let you sleep,” she explained in a rush.“You were so weary that I didn’t have the heart to wake you, and I thought it best if I didn’t go wandering around your house and startling the servants with my presence until you were able to alert them to the reason for my visit—”
Realizing she was running on at the mouth, Skye cut off her steady stream of nervous chatter and took a deep breath. “Thank you for consoling me last night, my lord.”
His expression remained enigmatic. Shifting slowly onto his back, Hawkhurst propped another pillow behind his head, as if preparing for a conversation he didn’t want.
“Do you suffer nightmares regularly?” His raspy voice sounded cautious.
Skye nodded briefly. “Since childhood. They started after losing my parents, when I was sent away to boarding school. But I haven’t had them recently. It must be this house, sleeping in a strange place, combined with the storm.…”
Her nightmares were her chief weakness, one she couldn’t seem to control. It was always the same horrible dream about her parents dying—descending to a watery grave when their ship sank during a storm. The sensation of drowning … reaching out to grasp their flailing hands … struggling futilely to rescue them.
In any other circumstance, she never needed to be coddled, but she was grateful the earl had provided her solace when the terror struck.
Hawkhurst, however, apparently did not share her view. “I did not mean to take advantage of you last night,” he murmured with genuine regret.
“But you didn’t,” Skye said quickly, wanting to reassure him.
He cleared his throat in disagreement, but otherwise gave her no reply. After a moment, he threw off the covers, preparing to rise. As he started to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, he happened to glance down at the bed where a faint pink stain marred the white sheets.
Her blood, Skye realized. The same stain had covered the insides of her thighs before she had washed it away.
“Good God. You were a virgin.”
His tone was faintly stunned while his entire body had gone rigid. His gaze shot back to her. “I never realized.… You seemed more than willing.”
Skye felt her flush deepen. Not unreasonably he had taken her wantonness for carnal experience. “I
was
willing.”
The grimness of his mouth told her what he thought of her declaration.
“How could you allow me to go so far?” he charged, his tone accusing, and yet she could see his anger was directed as much at himself as her, for he went on without waiting for her reply. “I’ve compromised you beyond all pardonable limits.”
“No one will ever know,” Skye protested.
“
I
will know. You are an unattached female guest in my home
and
Isabella’s niece.” Roughly he ran a hand through his sleep-tousled raven hair and muttered a low oath. “Bella will have my head when she finds out.”
“So would my brother. Quinn will likely want to shoot you. But they don’t have to find out.”
Skye couldn’t help a wry wince at the thought of her brother’s reaction. Quinn might be something of a rake himself, but he would have an apoplectic fit if he thought his baby sister had given her body to a near stranger, nobleman or not. Quinn’s protectiveness was why she hadn’t informed him of her plan to come to Hawkhurst Castle in the first place.
“I certainly won’t tell either of them,” she added for good measure, “and neither should you.”
Sinking back
The stomach-tightening awareness of his maleness made her feel shy and uncertain. She wanted to appear casual and sophisticated, but she was in way over her head, Skye silently admitted. How did one behave after a blazing night of passion with a new lover? With a
first
lover?
Suddenly she wished she had fled before the earl had awakened. But that would have been cowardly. She would just have to brave it out.
“I decided to let you sleep,” she explained in a rush.“You were so weary that I didn’t have the heart to wake you, and I thought it best if I didn’t go wandering around your house and startling the servants with my presence until you were able to alert them to the reason for my visit—”
Realizing she was running on at the mouth, Skye cut off her steady stream of nervous chatter and took a deep breath. “Thank you for consoling me last night, my lord.”
His expression remained enigmatic. Shifting slowly onto his back, Hawkhurst propped another pillow behind his head, as if preparing for a conversation he didn’t want.
“Do you suffer nightmares regularly?” His raspy voice sounded cautious.
Skye nodded briefly. “Since childhood. They started after losing my parents, when I was sent away to boarding school. But I haven’t had them recently. It must be this house, sleeping in a strange place, combined with the storm.…”
Her nightmares were her chief weakness, one she couldn’t seem to control. It was always the same horrible dream about her parents dying—descending to a watery grave when their ship sank during a storm. The sensation of drowning … reaching out to grasp their flailing hands … struggling futilely to rescue them.
In any other circumstance, she never needed to be coddled, but she was grateful the earl had provided her solace when the terror struck.
Hawkhurst, however, apparently did not share her view. “I did not mean to take advantage of you last night,” he murmured with genuine regret.
“But you didn’t,” Skye said quickly, wanting to reassure him.
He cleared his throat in disagreement, but otherwise gave her no reply. After a moment, he threw off the covers, preparing to rise. As he started to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, he happened to glance down at the bed where a faint pink stain marred the white sheets.
Her blood, Skye realized. The same stain had covered the insides of her thighs before she had washed it away.
“Good God. You were a virgin.”
His tone was faintly stunned while his entire body had gone rigid. His gaze shot back to her. “I never realized.… You seemed more than willing.”
Skye felt her flush deepen. Not unreasonably he had taken her wantonness for carnal experience. “I
was
willing.”
The grimness of his mouth told her what he thought of her declaration.
“How could you allow me to go so far?” he charged, his tone accusing, and yet she could see his anger was directed as much at himself as her, for he went on without waiting for her reply. “I’ve compromised you beyond all pardonable limits.”
“No one will ever know,” Skye protested.
“
I
will know. You are an unattached female guest in my home
and
Isabella’s niece.” Roughly he ran a hand through his sleep-tousled raven hair and muttered a low oath. “Bella will have my head when she finds out.”
“So would my brother. Quinn will likely want to shoot you. But they don’t have to find out.”
Skye couldn’t help a wry wince at the thought of her brother’s reaction. Quinn might be something of a rake himself, but he would have an apoplectic fit if he thought his baby sister had given her body to a near stranger, nobleman or not. Quinn’s protectiveness was why she hadn’t informed him of her plan to come to Hawkhurst Castle in the first place.
“I certainly won’t tell either of them,” she added for good measure, “and neither should you.”
Sinking back
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