Chapter Twenty-Five

S affron held her fist up, preparing to knock on the door to Lady Allen's room, while resisting the urge to run. In the hours since the auction had ended, she had changed her mind a dozen times about approaching the woman.

Angelica has settled to her fate. Now it is my turn.

Rosemary was right about putting away her fantasies. If Lady Allen's offer of employment was still open, she would accept it. She would become whatever Lady Allen required, even if it meant being the subject of gossip and derision.

As she debated, a jumble of nerves, a gray blob bounded across the hall, dragging a white string.

Cinder!

Eager to have any excuse to delay her decision, she darted after the waddling shape, but the kitten moved with surprising swiftness, using her claws to propel her along the carpet runner. Then she veered right through a half-open door and vanished.

Saffron hesitated at the threshold. She did not want to barrel into an occupied room or be spotted and questioned as to why she was wandering the halls at night alone. A quick recall of the floor plan confirmed she was outside the viscountess's rooms.

Where Leo's future wife will sleep.

She grasped the door handle and hesitated. She couldn't enter. Visions of the room would haunt her dreams.

She averted her eyes and pulled the door slightly so that Cinder would not get trapped inside, then spun on her heel and marched back the way she'd come. She was halfway back to Lady Allen's door when a hissing came from behind her, then a yowl and a muffled curse.

A shiver of unease rippled down her back. She tiptoed back to the entrance to the room and clung to the wall, listening intently.

Claws clicking against wood. Shuffling. Another, louder, curse. Then Cinder galloped out of the room, her fur on end.

Saffron pressed herself against the wall as the door creaked open and a man in a black suit exited, carrying a white-shrouded canvas in his arms. She held her breath, but the painting blocked his view of her.

It might be nothing , she thought. Several of the guests were leaving early, and they might have arranged for their paintings to be brought to their carriages.

But it might also be the thief.

She couldn't see the painting the man carried beneath the shroud, so she didn't know if it was the Ravenmore or one of the other paintings from the auction.

The man walked quietly away from her, and she followed, staying far enough behind that if the man noticed her, she had time to run.

He crept through the house, down the stairs and into the servants' hallways, where it was harder to keep up. After three twisting turns, she lost sight of him and recklessly increased her pace until she rounded a corner at a fast speed and ran face-first into a muscular chest.

"Whoa, there," Leo said, clasping his hands around her upper arms.

She craned her neck. "Did you see him?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Who?"

"The thief!"

He released his grip on her arms. "There's no one the way I came. What, precisely, did you see?"

As she filled him in, his lips thinned.

"Wait here," he said. "I'll summon Sinclair to search."

He strode purposefully away from her, and she followed. A few chaotic moments later, a storm of sleepy-eyed servants were up and scouring the estate. Then he took her arm and insisted on accompanying her back to her room, which she accepted.

"What were you doing?" he asked softly as they ascended the main staircase. "It's not safe for you to be walking around so late, unchaperoned."

She sniffed. "I was going to tell Lady Allen that I accept her offer."

His arm stiffened beneath her fingers. "You're leaving."

The flat finality in his words stabbed at her heart. "I have to."

As they reached the top of the stairs, he abruptly turned in the opposite direction of her room, steering her with him. Her heart fluttered in her breast, but she didn't comment. If it was their last night together, she wanted it to be one to remember. Consequences be damned. Neither her family nor her future employer needed to know.

Leo led her to his room, then stopped. "Are sure you want this?"

She swallowed reflexively. "Yes."

He opened the door for her, then locked it behind them.

The room was as she remembered, with a towering bed against one wall, and the blinds drawn tight. The only light came from the smoldering remains of a fireplace.

Arms closed around her from behind. She relaxed into the comfort of his embrace.

He feathered kisses down her neck and her pulse hammered with anticipation, dampness gathering between her thighs. She was powerless to resist him.

He pulled away and tugged off his waistcoat and shirt, tossing them into the corner. His finely sculpted chest was beaded with perspiration, and she watched a droplet of sweat slide from his navel down to the waistband of his trousers. Her mouth watered as she remembered what lay beneath the layers of fabric.

He stepped closer and she met him in a searing kiss, their tongues tangling in a slow dance. He tasted like caramel and apples, and the coarse stubble that rubbed her cheek sent heat pulsing to her core.

He slipped his hands under her skirts, then up her sides, until the fabric of her gown was splayed around her hips. Then he dropped to his knees and trailed a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses from her ankle up to her quim.

"This is unfair," she said, pointing to the prominent tenting of his trousers. "It's your turn now."

"As you wish." He placed his hands on his stomach then slid them down until his fingers pushed beneath his waistband. "You want me to remove this?"

At her halting nod, he unbuttoned his trousers, then stepped out of them one leg at a time. His erection tented his drawers, and she reached out a hand, but he danced out of her reach.

"Remove the rest," she said impatiently.

Leo unbuttoned his fall, and his cock sprang free. He stroked it twice before releasing it and removing his drawers, leaving him standing nude before her but for his socks. He put his hands on his hips and waited, as if daring her to comment.

Remembering how he'd responded before, she fell to her knees and grasped his cock in both hands, then slid her mouth over him. He tasted salty and the skin her tongue caressed was so soft.

He gave a strangled moan and dug his fingers into her hair, guiding her movement with his strong hands, until he grew even larger and hotter in her mouth.

"Enough," Leo said. "It's my turn." He stepped back, pulling his cock out of her mouth, then took her hands and drew her up to stand, facing away from him. "Put your hands on the bed."

She did so, her cheeks pulsing with heat at the impropriety of it. His touch warmed her skin and made her tingle all over.

"I want to see all of you," Leo whispered, rubbing her thigh. "May I undress you?"

Her response was more gasp than words, but she followed up with an audible, "Yes."

His fingers left her skin, making her want to cry out. But it was only a few moments of soft shuffling before her gown gaped open at the back, and his hands returned to caress her shoulders. He continued in that manner, removing layer after layer of fabric until she stood in a heap of it.

He turned her around and captured her lips once again. She wantonly pressed her naked flesh to his, cradling his still-erect cock with her stomach.

"What do you want?" he asked between kisses. "Tell me, Saffron. Say the words."

"I want pleasure," she said. "I want you inside me."

"As you wish," he whispered. Then he took her hands and guided her to the bed. He crawled up the bed, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, meeting his lips as he speared her, then rocked gently up and down. The burst of pleasure was different, gently fluttering up from the space where their bodies joined and warming her all the way to the tip of her head.

"That's it," Leo said. "It feels—ah!" He withdrew from her before finishing on the top sheet of the bed. He then balled it up and threw it in the corner. The act seemed wrong, somehow, although she could not put her finger on why that was.

Then he lifted the covers, and she snuggled up to his chest, putting his earlier actions out of her mind. They were together, and nothing else mattered.

"I cannot stay long," he whispered. He pressed a kiss to her temple. "When you awake, I will be gone."

"I understand," she said, but secretly, she was imagining what it might be like to wake up with him at her side. How she would crawl onto his chest and twirl his glorious hair between her fingers until his eyes fluttered open.

That can never happen.

The realization that they might never sleep in the same bed again settled over her and made her shiver.

"Cold?" Leo whispered.

She nodded, unable to trust that her words would be free of tears. She didn't want him to know what she was thinking, as it would ruin the moment. Their last moment.

Leo splayed an arm over her and gently rubbed her hip until she drifted into a restless slumber.