Chapter Six

H e had thanked her!

Thunder rumbled, shaking the stained glass even as the sound of rain pummeling the roof echoed around the empty chamber. Evalina clung to him…

Victor .

A hunger like she'd never known had her pulling him closer, running her hands over his shoulders, around his neck—tugging at his hair. And still, she wanted more. She wanted him to tear her clothes off. She wanted his hands everywhere! Wicked and luxurious fantasies came to life. What would it be like to give all of herself? To surrender with no expectations?

"Evalina." His voice strained as he trailed against her neck. How could a kiss be tender and violent at the same time?

She couldn't get close enough. Her thighs trembled and wet heat throbbed in her center. Was this the beginning, or was this the end?

It couldn't be forever. Even now, the woman who expected to become his duchess might be waiting back at the castle for him.

She swatted the thought away.

Eva wanted to give herself—all of herself—freely. She wanted all the pleasure even knowing pain would follow.

How could she go back to being invisible after this? Dear God, she wanted to mark him, and when he gripped her buttocks and squeezed, she scratched her fingernails down his back and would have torn his waistcoat off if she could.

He moaned, his face buried between her breasts. When he hitched her leg around his waist, she instinctively welcomed the hardness that pressed… right there.

Yes. Oh, yes.

"Evalina." He made her name sound like music and with the flash of lightning, sparks set flame to her blood. He dipped his head lower, pushing her bodice out of the way, and Eva arched her back.

Consume me .

Fill me.

Take me.

"You taste like heaven." His words felt as hot as her blood. Evalina mumbled something, she didn't know what, lost, savoring the friction between them. The whiskers on his jaw scraped her skin. The planes of his body made her feel soft and pliant. This wasn't a dream.

This couldn't be a dream. It was her life.

And yet… reality hovered like a demon ghost.

Despite the longing to be a part of him in every way, despite believing she might die if she couldn't have him now, he wasn't truly hers.

Another woman was coming to claim him. He belonged to another world.

A squeezing in her chest had her gasping for air, and she turned her head. "No. Victor."

He stilled.

Eva's heart broke at the sight of this man bent low, his cheek resting on her bosom, his hair disheveled from her fingers.

At some point she'd untied his cravat.

What was she doing? Surely a memory was better than nothing at all!

"I—" She wasn't sure what to say. She wanted him. But she wanted all of him.

His breaths matched to hers, equally ragged and pained as he lifted his head and rose to his full height. "I know," he said. "I know."

Evalina closed her eyes and, unwilling to let him go, burrowed her face into his chest.

But then, shuffling sounds shattered their privacy. From the altar, a man cleared his throat to announce his presence. The interruption was so unexpected that neither she nor the duke moved. In fact, his arms clasped her more tightly, locking her in their embrace rather than doing anything to conceal their indiscretion.

"Your Grace?"

"Sloan?" The duke finally turned to stare at the man, blinking in confusion. "What the devil are you doing here? And why are you dressed like a vicar?"

"Your mother, your Grace! She is coming here, and she's bringing Lady Lincoln"—his astute gaze shifted to Evalina—"and her daughter. She suggested they join the ladies' guild to offer their assistance with the charity baskets."

Startled into reality, Evalina straightened her spine and, with her back quite literally pressed against the wall, she shoved the duke away, sadly putting a few feet of distance between them.

"But there are no charity baskets!" Obviously.

"I know that." Mr. Sloan rolled his eyes towards the steepled ceiling and then stared at her pointedly. "You've already delivered them."

Evalina hadn't delivered anything, of course, and the valet must surely be aware of that… Which meant he must know more, possibly all the details of her and the duke's impromptu outing. And Mr. Sloan appeared to be aiding them—or attempting to, anyway.

The duke narrowed his eyes. "But why the cleric's collar?"

The valet maintained his patience, even as he glanced around a little anxiously.

"Because you are supposed to be meeting with him—with me—to discuss church renovations—but he is in London. Not to worry, however." Mr. Sloan, always quick on his feet, had apparently devised a ruse. He fingered the starched white collar around his neck. "I will play the part of the vicar."

Evalina felt grateful, even as her heart shattered.

She doubted she could ever piece it back together. It was over. Before it had even begun.

Lady Lucinda was here, and she would be wanting to insert herself into the community, helping to serve the poor. Drat! If his future intended wished to help out today, she mustn't be the villain Evalina had pictured in her mind.

She was a lady. And a decent one at that.

Tragically, however, she was going to claim the duke for her own and there was nothing Eva could do about it.