Heart of Iron

Fourteen

A cool breeze whispered over her skin. Lena looked up from the mess of cogs and gears that covered her small writing desk. Slipping the magnifying glassicals up on top of her head, she put aside her fine pliers and stood. Her nightrobe tumbled around her bare feet, the rose-colored silk caressing her shins.

“Hello?” she called, tugging her robe tight and retying the sash. It was almost midnight. Mrs. Wade had retired hours ago, but she hadn’t been able to sleep. Too many things whirling through her mind. She’d decided she might as well use the time to work on the life-size transformational Mercury wanted her to create. Clockworks were easy and they always fit together… Unlike her life. Besides, she had only a week until the treaty’s official signing. She’d started the clockwork interior of the piece, but a week was barely time enough to finish it. She’d have to use Mandeville’s help for the outer casing.

The door between the sitting room and her bedchamber wheezed, stirring in a breeze that shouldn’t have been there. Lena snatched up the poker.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she crept toward the door. Nobody would dare attack her here, would they? The place was well-guarded, even at night, as it wasn’t unknown for assassinations to occur in the Echelon. The Duke of Caine was frequently indisposed, and Leo ruled as acting head of the House. No doubt a half-dozen minor offshoots of the House were starting to grow ambitious.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

The soft glow of a turned-down gas lamp barely lit the shadowed bedroom beyond the door. For a moment Lena was half tempted to wake the household. But if the latch had merely blown open, she’d have woken them for naught.

Her eyes darted around the room as she slipped through the door. Soft gauzy curtains floated in the wind, rain spattering the polished floors. One of the French doors to her balcony had become unlatched, but there was no sign of anyone in the room.

“Damned wind.”

Pressing the door shut, she latched it tightly. Lightning flashed and suddenly the floor creaked behind her.

A scream tore from her throat, captured by a man’s large hand. He yanked her back against his hard chest and water from his clothes saturated the back of her. Her lips pressed wetly into his hand and his warm breath brushed against her ear.

“Shhh.”

Will. She could smell his scent now, of musk and rain and fresh air. The poker fell from her nerveless fingers. He caught it with his boot before it hit the floor, then eased it onto the rug.

Lena’s heart hammered along at a clipping pace. Her feet ceased drumming against his ankles and she slumped in his grip, her breasts pressing against his forearm. In the corner, movement caught her eye. A freestanding cheval mirror, showing the pair of them locked together in an illicit embrace. Lena’s eyes widened as they met his. He was huge and wet and brooding, the amber spark of his eyes flaring in warning. Spoiling for a fight by the look of him.

Her eyes narrowed. He wasn’t the only one who wanted an argument. This was going to be the last time he frightened her.

She bit the fleshy pad of his palm.

“If I let you go are you goin’ to behave?”

Lena wriggled furiously.

“I’ll assume that means ‘no.’” Hauling her toward the bed, he tossed her on it. Before she could even bounce, he’d whipped a silk scarf off the floor and gagged her with it.

Lena’s eyes widened further and she kicked at him, making a strangled sound behind the scarf. Will pinned her, his hands driving her wrists into the bed and his legs straddling hers. The nightgown rucked up around her thighs in the struggle and she stilled as his gaze dropped. There was a world of heat in that look.

“Truce?”

Lena nodded warily. As he sat back, kneeling over her, she reached up and tugged the scarf out of her mouth.

“What the devil are you doing here?”

He clapped a hand over her mouth. “If Barrons finds me here, we’ll be contracted for marriage before we know it.” Their eyes met. “Neither of us wants that, do we?”

Her heart pounded uncertainly. Then she gave her head a vehement shake. She’d seen her sister’s happiness and good fortune. The only thing worse than a marriage made of duty would be one of unrequited feelings.

Will stared at her for a long moment, his expression hardening. His hand dropped from her mouth, trailing over her cheek before falling to his lap.

“He wouldn’t force a contract on us anyway,” she murmured. “Leo would probably pretend he’d never seen you here—after escorting you to the door and removing the trellis outside my window.”

“Wouldn’t stop me.” His fingers toyed with the sash of her robe. Then Will realized what he’d said. “If I wanted to get in.”

“Stop it.” Her hand clapped over his. His palm flattened against her abdomen, devilishly warm. “You’re taking entirely too many liberties.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.”

Something about his expression warned her. “What do you mean by that?”

A long silence. “Nothin’.”

She had the feeling he wasn’t talking about the kiss they’d shared. Lena shoved his hand away. “What do you want? What are you doing here anyway?”

Water slicked his hair against his head, dripping down the open collar of his throat. His gaze was hard and flat. He held up a piece of paper and with a start she realized it was the other piece of the letter he’d torn from her.

The last time she’d seen it she’d stuffed it up the chimney, behind a loose brick where she could take the time to try and decipher it.

“Lookin’ for the truth,” he said. “Since I ain’t likely to get it from you.”

“That’s mine.” Lena snatched at it but his grip was firm. They glared at each other. His shirt clung to his shoulders indecently; the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his leather waistcoat sculpted every muscle of his chest. A bead of water hovered in the dip of his lip, another sliding down his roughened cheek. God, she wanted to run her hands over his shoulders, to trace that droplet of water with her tongue.

To sink her hands into the wet mess of his hair and drag his mouth down. To hers.

Taking a deep breath, Lena shivered with unrequited longing. “What are you going to do with it? Decode it?”

“Aye.”

Lena licked her lips. “Perhaps it’s for the best.” She wanted to know what it said just as much as he did. “As long as you don’t breathe a word to anyone else about it.”

“Afraid Honoria will yell?”

“Afraid she’ll lock me in a convent.”

“Perhaps you ought to be.” The gold color of his eyes was molten.

Lena froze. He’d made it quite clear kissing her had been a mistake. And yet… Her nipples tightened under his burning gaze. The way he was looking at her was almost edible. This mood of his was unpredictable.

She had to get him out of here before she did something foolish.

“Is that everything you came for?” She let go of her end of the piece of paper. “You scared me half to death.”

Rain battered the windows as he knelt back onto his knees. He didn’t seem in any hurry to leave.

“Will? Whatever this is, you could have waited ’til tomorrow.”

Will’s expression remained hooded. “You and I need to talk.”

“Not tonight. If anyone—”

“Tonight,” he growled, and another low peal of thunder rumbled through the room. “I give you enough chances. Tonight I’ve had enough. I want answers and you’re damned well goin’ to give ’em to me. All you’re goin’ to do is answer yes or no, do you understand?”

Lena nodded slowly. Will always kept his temper even and controlled. He didn’t dare let it loose. Tonight there was a wildness there that urged for caution.

“Do you know who Mercury is?”

Her breath caught. “I don’t… I’m not sure what—”

Will pressed a finger to her lips. “Yes. Or no. Do you know who Mercury is?”

Where had he heard that name? And why would he suspect her of a connection to it? She had to play this right, or who knew how he’d react? Lena nodded hesitantly. “Yes.”

He didn’t like that, she realized. A frown drew his eyebrows together. “Damn it, Lena. What the devil have you gotten yourself involved in?”

There was no way to answer that with a simple yes or no.

As if realizing her intentions, his eyes narrowed. “Do you have any involvement with the humanists? With Mercury?”

“Yes. And no.”

“Lena, the Nighthawks are huntin’ Mercury! It won’t be long before they find him and anyone connected to him. Today I had to promise Sir Jasper Lynch that I’d keep an eye out for any signs of him. Even as I said the words I knew I were lyin’, for I knew you were involved.” With a disgusted look, he raked his hands through his hair. “What am I goin’ to do with you?”

The question brought to mind a number of answers. But she didn’t think he’d approve of any of them.

“Well? Are you goin’ to tell me what’s goin’ on?”

The answer to that was simple enough. Panic flashed through her. “No.”

“That’s the wrong answer, luv.”

“That’s the only one you’re getting.”

“I could make you tell me.” He leaned closer, looming over her.

Lena scooted back up the bed until her back hit the headboard. “I hardly think you’d dare. Since you don’t want to be found in my chambers any more than I want you found. I’ll scream.”

The look on his face made her breath shudder.

“You’ll try,” he said. One large hand latched around her ankle, the obscene heat of his skin branding her. His eyes had gone completely wolfish as he drew her toward him.

Her nightgown slid over the silken sheets, sliding up around her hips. The robe was tumbling from her shoulders. There was a moment where she could have saved it. A moment where sanity intruded. A moment where she remembered the look in his eyes… Was it real? Or had she just imagined it? Did he want her?

Heaven help me, she prayed silently. Then she gave a little shrug and the robe slipped from her shoulders, pooling around her waist.

She had to know.

Will’s gaze sharpened. Heat. Hunger. An intensity that scalded her from within. She’d been right. It was not disinterest that tightened his expression and tensed the muscles in his forearms.

The realization was heady. She could barely breathe as he reached out and captured her chin in one hand. Yes, oh God, yes.

He turned her face to the side, his hot gaze running down her throat. Then to the other side. Lena frowned, capturing his wrist. What was he doing?

Ignoring the delicate scalloped lace neckline of her gown, he caught her wrist and turned it up.

No. Her breath caught and she wrenched her arm to her chest in shock. She knew exactly what he was looking for now.

“Lena.” His hand fisted in the bottom of her nightgown.

The amber gleam frightened her. There was no lucidity to it, no sign of Will. Only the predator, his face tight with anger. Clutching his hand, she slid it higher, over the inside of her thigh and the raised scar there.

The ugly reminder of what Colchester had taken from her that day in the alley.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” She pushed him away and scrambled for the side of the bed. The hurt was a sharp, stabbing pain in her chest. For a moment, just a moment, she’d thought he was going to kiss her again.

Sliding her robe up over her shoulders, Lena yanked the sash tight and tied it. “How did you know?”

There was no answer.

Lena turned and found him kneeling in the middle of her bed, his head bowed and his hands clenched in her sheets. A tremble ran through his shoulders and his hand jerked. Slowly his head lifted. A shiver ran down her spine as their eyes met.

“Colchester told me.” His voice was hoarse. “Told me he’d had you.”

A line of heat sprang across her cheeks. Damn it, not now. Tilting her head discreetly to the side, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “You saw him? Where? I told you not to do anything rash.”

“I were at the jewelers. He walked in.” A shifting of sheets and then his booted feet came into view. Will knelt in front of her. This close, she could make out the split in his lip and the faint bruise on his cheekbone. Someone had hit him. Colchester, she was sure of it.

“Lena?” The back of his fingers stroked her damp cheek. “What happened?”

His gentleness nearly undid her. She pushed past in a flurry of silk, panic catching her breath in her chest. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Three steps before he caught her. She whirled around to push him away and found herself in the circle of his arms. His chest was firm against her cheek, his heat enveloping her. God help her, but she couldn’t stop her fingers from curling in his shirt. She felt so safe here in his arms. The fight drained out of her. If only he could hold her like this forever.

If only he wanted to.

“Damn it, what did he do to you?” Will’s voice was strangled. “Did he—did he rape you?”

“No,” she blurted. “But not for lack of trying.” The memory stained her. Colchester, a handsome young dandy in the streets, stopping to smile and charm her. She’d not thought it odd at all, for she’d been used to such flirtation before her father died. She even recognized him as the Duke of Lannister’s heir, though she’d been a fool to think for one second that he saw her as anything other than a coal lass. Easy prey.

“He took my blood.” Forced her back into the alley. Shoved her hard against the wall. Her pails had spilled everywhere, coal tumbling across the dirty cobbles. She’d tried to say no, unable even then to comprehend what was happening. “I didn’t want it. I didn’t. But he kept saying I did, that I’d like it.”

Warmth burned on her cheeks. As soon as she realized she was crying, a sob overtook her. Colchester had been right. She had liked it, in the end. The chemicals in his saliva had set off some sort of reaction in her body.

Will’s hands came up and gently pressed against her back. “Easy now, mo cridhe.” He rubbed soothing circles against her back. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

But she wasn’t safe. The tears came harder. Safe was a world without the Echelon and their grasping blood-suckers in it. Without humanists threatening her family, or Colchester stalking her. Safe was a world where she was loved and happy. Safe was here. In Will’s arms.

“And the humanists?”

“I d-didn’t mean to get caught up in all of this.” But the words were a lie. She’d wanted to find something, anything, to give her a sense of purpose in life.

“Caught up in what?” His voice was lower, huskier. “Lena?” he whispered, stroking the hair off her sticky face. “Tell me.”

She pushed out of the comfort of his arms and turned away, shamelessly wiping her face against the shoulder of her nightgown. She knew what he wanted, but she had to explain to him first, to show him that her reasons for all of this hadn’t just been some frivolous whim. Maybe then he wouldn’t hate her so much if he found out what she was supposed to do. “There was nothing for me in Whitechapel. Honoria had Blade. And Charlie was settling in. We were always so close, but he didn’t want to be around me once he became a blue blood. And then—” Her voice broke slightly and she hurried on. “You were gone. And nobody wanted me there.

“I thought that if I returned to society things would change. It was what I’d been raised for. Honoria always had Father and her work, but growing up there was nothing for me but lessons on etiquette and the things a young lady ought to know. When Father died and we were forced to hide in Whitechapel, I was on the cusp of making my debut. It was the happiest time of my life.” Her voice trailed off. “I just wanted to go back to it.”

Everyone had praised her beauty and charm then, and the glimpse she’d had of the Echelon had only fuelled her excitement to join it. But she had looked at it through innocent eyes. Whitechapel had changed everything about her. She was no longer that naive young girl with stars in her eyes. There was no going back, and it had taken a long time to realize that.

“The rot’s not apparent at first,” she said. “Leo sponsored my debut and everyone was so charming and elegant. Of course they were. They wanted something from me. I was offered three thrall contracts in the first week. It was terribly exciting.”

“You never accepted ’em.”

She couldn’t turn around and look at him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she shook her head. “One of them—Lord Ramsay—invited me to stroll in the garden with him. I knew what he intended. It’s not uncommon for a woman to offer blood before a contract is signed.” Her voice dropped. “I couldn’t. The more I thought about it, the more it upset me. I couldn’t breathe. All I could think about w-was Colchester. In that alley. I was so overwrought that Lord Ramsay slapped me and then Leo was there and he took me home and I-I—”

Warm arms slid around her waist. “Don’t cry, Lena. Damn it.”

Of course he wouldn’t want her crying all over him. She tried to dry her eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not the one who ought to be sorry.” Dire words. A hint of threat underlying them. His hand stroked her hip, her waist. “I hate seein’ you cry.”

“You do?” she whispered. His hand stroked smooth circles over her hip. So lightly it was almost hypnotic. Somehow she found herself relaxing back into the circle of his arms.

The world upended as he swept her up into his arms. With a gasp she clapped her arms around his shoulders. “Will?”

He was carrying her to the bed. “You’re shiverin’.”

And she was, she realized, her lips quivering with the chill of the room—and her memories. Tucking her face against his neck, she closed her eyes and breathed in the wet musky scent of him. He eased her under the sheets and then tucked her blankets around her. Then he straightened.

Don’t go. She caught his fingertips in mute appeal.

Will hesitated. “It ain’t seemly. And I’m wet—”

“I’m so cold,” she whispered. “And you’re so warm. Please.”

“Me shirt’s drenched.”

“Then take it off.”

Something dark and merciless flashed through his gaze. He sucked in a deep breath. Golden eyes burned in the dark of the night. The hunter? Or the hunted?

“Please,” she whispered. “Just for a moment. Just to warm my sheets.” If she shivered a little more than was strictly necessary… Well, he would never need to know that.

The moment of indecision stretched out, playing over his face. “Tell me more,” he finally said, tugging at his waistcoat. “Tell me what you’re involved in.”

Lena rolled onto her side, watching him. The light from the gas lamp backlit his broad shoulders. His face was little more than shadow and the burning gleam of those eyes.

Heat coiled through her, warming her from within. Her nipples tightened, the silk of her nightgown abrading them lightly as he reached over his head and dragged his shirt off. She felt like a mess, her face and nose all wet and splotched, but she could no sooner turn her eyes away than submit to a blue blood.

Light gleamed over the wet slickness of his skin, highlighting the play of muscle in his chest and the ripple of his abdomen. He shucked his boots and looked up, his damp hair falling almost to his shoulders.

Far too long and unruly to be fashionable. But, sweet Lord, how she wanted to run her fingers through it. To touch him.

Nervous anticipation ran over her skin. She’d never seen a man half-naked. Gooseflesh sprang up over her body, and she squirmed against the unfamiliar wet heat between her thighs. The bed dipped beneath his weight.

“How did you meet them?”

“Meet them?” She looked up, wondering for a moment who he was talking about. “The humanists?”

Will lay on his back, his head pillowed on his arms as he turned to look at her. “Aye.”

Lena slid closer. The first hint of his body heat on the sheets sent a delicious shiver down her spine. She hadn’t realized how cold she was. “I already knew one, although I never realized what he was involved in until later. Until I needed it.”

“Who?”

“You don’t need to know that.” She snuggled closer, reaching out with a hesitant hand to stroke his chest.

Will stiffened. But he didn’t pull away. Taking it as permission, she tucked herself against his side, laying her head gently on his shoulder. The heat was delicious.

“Lena, I can’t protect you unless you tell me everythin’.”

The sound of his voice rumbled through his chest. “He saved my life, Will. He was the one who scared Colchester off. Then he brought me in out of the alley and let me sob all over his shoulder.” She shook her head. “I won’t betray him. I owe him more than you’ll ever know.”

Will rolled, turning to face her. Her head slipped into the crook of his arm and the position put distance between them. His breath curled over her face. “Mandeville.”

“Why would you—”

“I already suspected.”

“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t do anything. I don’t want to see him hurt. He gave me a job, Will. He kept me off the streets and looked after me like I was his own.”

Something in his eyes darkened. “And where was your bloody sister in all of this?”

“I never told her.” As he shifted in protest, she put a finger to his lips. “You don’t know what it was like. I couldn’t. We were both working our fingers to the bone merely to provide food and shelter, and Charlie was sick with the first signs of the craving. I didn’t want to be a burden.” Fresh tears sprang forth in her eyes. “And we’d been arguing so much that I didn’t feel as if I could tell her.”

Tears scalded her cheeks. She didn’t think she’d had any left, but then this was an old grief, one much covered over and patched. Honoria had made peace with her about the constant arguments they’d had, but she’d never known what had caused the burning resentment. Lena had been so alone, so angry and scared.

Will dragged her close, crushing her against his body. Lena clung to him, burying her face against his neck. “I’m such a mess,” she tried to say, but the tears wouldn’t stop and the words were distorted. “I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t you as should be sorry.” His voice was dark. “Your bloody sister needs her neck wrung. And as for Colchester—”

She looked up in alarm. “You promised you wouldn’t go near him.”

“That was before I knew what he done.” A nasty little smile curved over his lips. “If it’s any consolation, he ain’t as pretty as he were.”

“Oh, Will, what did you do?”

“Dragged him face-first through a few glass cases.”

The thought sent a vindictive thrill through her. Then she shook her head. “You shouldn’t have. He’ll never forget it. He’ll come after you.”

There was a light touch against her cheek. “Hope he does.” The sound of it was close to her ear.

Realization came slowly. His lips, brushing against her brow. Lena stilled. Her heart started to race. “Will?” She lifted her head.

His expression was dark, considering. He stroked her face with his hand, cupping her chin. His mouth was dangerously close to hers. “God help me.”

Then he leaned forward and kissed her.

His lips were warm and hesitant. Lena sucked in a sharp breath, her heart pounding in her ears. The skin on her cheeks was tight and dry from her tears, but she didn’t care. She lay still and quiescent, not daring to breathe for fear that this dream would all go away.

As if sensing her hesitation, he drew back.

“No,” she whispered and grabbed a handful of his hair. “Don’t you dare.”

Fear of losing him broke the barriers of the dam. Her lips found his in the shadows. She pressed herself wantonly against his body, sinking her fingers into his hair.

He gasped as her tongue darted out and caressed his. His hands cupped her bottom, his body coming over hers and grinding her against him. Every hard inch of him was pressed intimately against her. Heat spilled through her, enveloped her. She rolled her hips instinctively, drawing another gasp from him.

Sweet heavens, this is bliss. She wanted more. She wanted him to capture her mouth, take her, right there and then. But his hesitancy lingered in the gentle nips he took at her lips.

If he drew away again…it would kill her. Lena slid her arms around his damp shoulders, her tongue sliding into his mouth. His back arched, enough to press his hips against hers and still kiss her, with the disparity in height. Lena gasped, drinking at his mouth greedily, her hands hungry across the smooth skin of his back.

Will caught her wrists and pressed her flat, tearing his mouth from hers. “No,” he gasped.

Lena strained against his grip. “I’m tired of hearing that. Damn it, Will, you know I don’t care you’re verwulfen. I proved that!”

He shoved away, rearing up on his knees. “That ain’t the only problem.”

“You don’t want me?” She ran her hands over her breasts, feeling the turgid peaks of her nipples through the thin lawn nightgown. “We both know that’s a lie.”

Will’s face darkened and he rolled toward the edge of the bed. Realizing his intention, she wrapped her legs around his hips and rolled with him. Somehow she ended up straddling his hips. When Will looked at her in surprise, she seized the advantage and pushed him flat onto his back.

No force on earth could make him stay if he didn’t want to with his strength. She pinned his wrists in a desperate maneuver and then realized that he made no attempt to leave. His gaze was fixed on her chest. Or the missing button that had somehow come off in the struggle, she presumed.

Sliding her hands down over the sculpted muscle of his arms, she sat up, resting them on his chest. His belt buckle dug into the tender flesh of her thigh and she shifted, riding over the hard bulge of his breeches. She knew enough to understand what that meant.

Both of them stilled.

“I could hurt you.”

Leaning down, she brushed her mouth against his. Just lightly. Teasingly. “I don’t think you would,” she breathed. Licking his lip and then suckling it into her mouth, something coppery burning on her tongue. Blood. His blood. The split in his lip.

His fingers sank into the soft flesh of her thighs and he sucked in a sharp breath. The strain of his erection brushed against her and she stilled, a flare of heat pulsing through her. How delicious a sensation. With a little shiver, she rolled her hips again, rubbing against him.

Will’s eyes glazed. “You don’t understand.” He sucked in a sharp breath, the hiss of it rasping between his teeth. “Can’t think. When you do that. Damn it.” His hand urged her against him. “Stop it, Lena.”

Lena threw her head back, riding over him again. “Why would I want to do that?” She gasped herself, wetness smothering her drawers. It felt so good. So right. And it was driving him wild.

He bared his teeth at her. The whites of his eyes were showing. “I’ll hurt you. I can’t.” His hands, however, told another story. They fisted in the hem of her nightgown, strain tautening the knuckles. “Damn it.”

Lena ground against him again. She was wet through, the sensation tearing another gasp from her lips.

The sound of ripping silk opened her eyes. The chill of the room penetrated and she looked down as he tore her nightgown up the center.

“Will!”

He leaned up, biting at her lips, tugging at her arms. This time there was no hesitation as he claimed her mouth roughly, jerking her hips against him. The nightgown hung from her shoulders, trapping her arms against her side. She wanted to touch him, to run her hands over the smooth skin of his biceps, but she couldn’t.

Her breasts were bare, the hair on his chest rubbing against the sensitive tips. Sensation exploded through her and she lost time and any sense of propriety. Her careful, practiced kisses gave way to mindless hunger, driving her tongue against his, her body pressed hard to his own. Groaning, she shrugged the nightgown off her arms and then slid them around his neck.

His cock was huge and firm against her. Will bit her lip, then her chin, sliding his mouth down her throat. Lena threw her head back and moaned as he bit his way down her sensitive flesh.

“God, you taste so f*ckin’ good,” he snarled.

Arching her back, she dug her hands into his silky hair. His mouth rasped over her nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive bud. Lena’s eyes went wide, her hips jerking involuntarily. It felt so good. Heat speared through her, sinking its claws into her stomach, and lower… She couldn’t stop herself. Her body seemed owned by someone else. A creature of need. Of frenzied hungers. Thrusting her breast into his mouth, she raked her nails across his shoulders, through his hair, clenching wet fistfuls of it as his mouth wreaked havoc on her body.

Wild, amber eyes met hers and Will dragged her head back, suckling the tender skin of her throat, his teeth sinking into the smooth curve of her shoulder. The hair on his chest rasped against her breasts and Lena cried out, grabbing one of his hands, sliding it lower, over her thigh and under her nightgown. She needed him to touch her. Needed…something.

She writhed in a torment of embarrassment and desire as his palm ground between her thighs.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, running her hands through his hair. She was so close… To what, she didn’t know, but if he stopped right now, she’d kill him.

An enormous clatter of sound broke through her concentration. Will stiffened, his fingers stilling.

Lena dragged his face back to hers, shaking her head. “Just a drone,” she whispered, licking at his mouth and tasting blood again. “Just the servants.”

“Lena.” He caught her wrists, withdrawing his mouth from hers. “Lena!”

“Don’t go.”

“I’m sorry.” He looked up at her, his voice hoarse with desire, eyes wild with need. “This were a mistake.”

The nervous anticipation faded. Lena caught his wrist as he pushed away from her and sat up. “A what?”

“A mistake,” he repeated harshly, forcing her grasping hands away.

He couldn’t have struck her a firmer blow. She yanked the ruins of her nightgown to her breasts and stared at him, despair aching in her chest. He couldn’t do this to her again.

Taking a step back from the bed, he fumbled for his shirt. “I have to go.” That insane gleam was still in his eyes.

“Will,” she whispered, clinging to her torn nightgown. “You don’t have to go. Nobody would hear us. Nobody would ever know—”

The look he gave her was raw, ragged. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

And then he was gone, the wind and the rain tumbling into the room, lightning flashing against the casing.