Chapter 10

The cart was packed with their picnic when Max drove Ada from the stable yard. Last night had been the longest stretch of uninterrupted sleep he’d had since before he’d left for Spain. How could he let Ada go now?

Because you must.

There was no reason for her to stay. Was he to pay her to be his sleeping companion? She wouldn’t leave her position as bookkeeper to the Phoenix Club, nor would he ask her to. He probably shouldn’t even be out with her today, for she was a temptation he wasn’t sure he could resist. She was so lovely, with a smile warming her pretty, heart-shaped face and her blue-gray eyes glittering, even though the sky was overcast and the sun was nowhere to be found.

He looked over at her to his right, hating that she could see his scar so well. He’d already angled his hat to create more of a shadow. “We will be driving by the lake on our way to see the ruins. Will that bother you?”

“Not at all,” she said sunnily. “I have no problem looking at water. I’ve just no desire to be in or on it.” Her shoulders twitched with a gentle shudder.

“I’m sorry that was ruined for you. I do enjoy sailing. And rowing.”

“Do you? Perhaps I’d try it if you promised to take me.” Was she flirting with him? He didn’t want her to do that. He wasn’t sure he recalled how. Furthermore, he wasn’t sure he could. Flirtation required a lightness of heart and a sense of whimsy. He no longer possessed either.

When he didn’t respond, she asked, “Is that how horses are for you? Ruined, that is. I understand you used to love to ride.”

He hadn’t thought of it that way, but he supposed so. “I did. Since returning home, I prefer not to, however. Perhaps that will change someday. Do you think there is any chance for you and the water?”

“I suppose I should remain optimistic. I am about most everything else,” she added with a light laugh. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Now, I really must consider getting into a boat again. I’m afraid my nature demands it.”

God, she was fearless. His desire for her increased tenfold. How he wished he could be like her.

As he drove toward the south end of the estate, she told him about the tenants she’d met when they drove past various farms. Then he started up the hill, the track curving around it as they ascended.

“This is an excellent place for a castle,” she said as they neared the top. “You can see for miles.”

“On a clear day, yes. Today isn’t too bad.” At least the clouds weren’t thick. They were, however, darkening a bit. He would keep an eye on them.

“Do you think it might rain?” she asked.

“I doubt it, but one must always be prepared, even in summer. There’s a small folly near the castle ruins, and it has enough cover if we need to escape a downpour.” He stopped the cart and set the brake.

“You didn’t mention a folly. I find them strange.”

“Strange how?” He climbed down and came around to help her out.

She put her hand in his, and while he’d touched her before—even kissed her—today, the connection was electric. Her gaze snapped to his, and he knew she felt it too.

Damn.

Attraction was easier to ignore and dissuade when it was thought to be one-sided.

“Perhaps strange isn’t the right word,” she said, drawing him back to what they’d been discussing. “They seem indulgent. What are they even for?”

“To enjoy. For instance, they make excellent picnic scenery.”

She grinned. “I thought hermits lived in them.”

He couldn’t help but crack a smile. More and more, she battered his defenses and made him question why he still had any. “Sometimes. But not here. As far as I know.” He looked at her in mock apprehension. “You don’t suppose there’s a hermit?”

“We’ll have to investigate.” She turned from the cart and looked about. “Ah, is that it there?” She pointed to the other side of the wide rise, where the folly was nestled amongst some shrubs near a small stand of trees.

“Yes. Shall we go there straightaway, or would you rather picnic amongst the castle stones?”

“That is a very difficult decision. Can I enjoy myself if I’m concerned there may be a hermit lurking nearby?”

“Hermits can be quite harmless.” This was the most absurd conversation he’d had in years, perchance ever, and he never wanted it to end.

“You’ve extensive experience with them?” Her eyes widened. “Oh! This is what you didn’t want to tell me about your wild youth. You were a hermit. It certainly aligns with your present demeanor.”

He stared at her. “How do you do this?”

The little spot between her brows pleated in that manner he found so endearing. “What?”

“Be effortlessly charming and witty. Do you never have a bad day?”

“I’ve had plenty of bad days. And I hate them. Which is why I do my best not to have them. And if I do, I endeavor to turn them into good days. Some might say an impending rainstorm is bad, but I shall look at it as an excellent way to study the ridiculous folly in depth, hopefully with the assistance of the resident hermit.”

He feared the days would grow bad again once she left. He should make her stay.

Looking up at the darkening clouds, he went to fetch the picnic basket and blanket from the cart. “Should we even have the picnic?”

“We probably have time, if we’re fast.”

“Any other female I’ve known would have asked to return to the house, except…” He’d almost said Lucia’s name. He couldn’t believe he’d mentioned her so casually.

“Except whom?” she asked quietly, then seemed to immediately regret it, given the way her face fell. “You don’t have to tell me.” She turned and walked hurriedly toward the random collection of stones that still remained from the ancient castle.

He followed her, dropping the blanket and basket near a larger stone before approaching her from the side.

“You’re right,” she said. “This wasn’t a very big castle.”

“These stones only mark the keep. The walls went out to the edge of the rise. I can show you some of those too. In fact, over there is the biggest collection—enough to make a wall.”

She stared in that direction, but he reached out and snagged her elbow, drawing her to turn her head toward him in surprise. “Her name was Lucia. The woman I’d planned to marry. She would have been happy to picnic in the rain.”

“She sounds like someone I would have liked to know,” Ada said softly.

He let go of her, and she continued toward the wall. After a moment, she looked back over her shoulder. “Aren’t you coming?”

In that moment, he wondered if he might follow her anywhere so long as she continued to lead him from the abyss.

Max caught up with her, and they spent some time investigating the wall. She imagined how tall it might have been and whether the gate was nearby.

He shook his head. “I think it was probably where the track is now—how we came up. That’s the easiest side to scale.”

“That makes sense. Do you know what would be a worthwhile folly? Rebuilding this castle.”

That made him laugh, and the joyful reaction in her gaze made him want to never stop. “I have to think you know how much that would cost.”

“Not really, but I’ve seen your ledgers and you can probably afford it. I was wrong to think the estate wasn’t profitable, but then you didn’t have enough retainers and weren’t supporting the tenants as you should have been.” She grimaced. “I shouldn’t have said any of that, not today.”

“But you’re right about all of it. I’m glad you came here and pointed out my…oversight.” What a pathetically inadequate word to describe his mismanagement and willful ignorance. “It needed to be done. I’m only sorry it took me so long to listen to someone.”

“I’m only shocked you listened to me!” She laughed and skipped around in a circle. Her foot caught a piece of loose dirt, and she slipped.

Max dove to catch her before she tumbled down the hill. He clasped her waist and pulled her toward him. She crashed against his chest with enough force to send him backward to the ground.

He grunted but held her close. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. The question is, are you?”

“I’ve suffered far worse.”

Her gaze, dark with alarm a second ago, softened. Then it fixed on the left side of his face. “I know.” Her whisper was a preliminary caress just before she stroked her fingertips along the ripples of his scar. “This had to have hurt terribly.”

“That entire day was the most painful of my life.” He stared up into her captivating face.

And got a raindrop in his eye. “Here comes the rain.” He rolled with her to their sides, then jumped to his feet, helping her as he stood. “You go to the folly. I’ll get the basket and blanket.”

“What about the horse?”

“She’ll be fine.” It began to rain in earnest, not a downpour, but gentle drops, and Max ran to fetch the picnic. By the time he joined her in the folly, he was damp.

“At least it’s not raining hard,” she said.

“No, and I doubt it will last long. We should eat and be on our way before it decides to pour.” He spread the blanket over the stones, and she set the basket on top of it.

As she arranged plates of food, he removed his hat and shook the water from it at the side of the folly. His face tingled where she’d touched him. How did he not horrify her?

Because she was a singular woman.

He sat down with her on the blanket and ate from his plate. There was ham, cheese, bread, and apples. She poured ale into a mug and handed it to him, her fingers grazing his. He could almost imagine this was four years ago when he’d first met Lucia.

No, he didn’t want to compare them. For as much as they both stirred something within him, they were completely different.

Distant thunder shook the sky, and Ada startled. She looked out at the heavens. “I always believed thunder was the sound of giants dancing. That’s what I used to tell my charges when there was a storm and they were afraid.”

Of course she did. “And did they believe you?”

“Certainly. I also told them the rain was from the giants’ exertion.”

Max nearly spit out the ale he’d just drank. “That’s a great deal of energetic dancing.”

“I believe that’s what Rebecca said. She was the eldest.” Ada’s eyes sparkled with mirth as she popped a piece of ham into her mouth. Then her gaze dropped to his plate. “You ate nearly everything.”

So he had. He shifted uncomfortably, but he didn’t know if that was because he’d eaten more than usual or because she’d noticed. “It wasn’t a large plate.”

“I think it’s wonderful.” She finished eating and began packing everything into the basket. He helped, and they both grabbed the bottle of ale at the same time, their hands colliding.

The electricity was still there, perhaps emboldened by the currents in the air. Whatever the reason, neither of them pulled away.

“I know I kissed you the other night,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.

Her eyes rounded. “I thought you were asleep.”

“If I could sleep through that, I would have even more problems than I thought.”

Her brow creased. “Please don’t be witty too.”

He held her hand, taking it from the bottle. “I doubt anyone would accuse me of that.”

“Really, you have to stop.” She took a shaky breath, and he could feel the tremors racing through her. “I’m already far too tempted, and, well, I don’t want to encourage anything.”

She was tempted…

His primitive man brain somehow managed to parse the second half of what she’d said. But he was unable to formulate a coherent response, and he’d already grunted enough in her presence.

“It’s best for both of us if we part as friends,” she added, slowly taking her hand from his. “I can see your heart was broken. Mine was too.” She looked away, and he realized the rain had stopped. “I like you. Far more than I expected to. In truth, I’d planned to avenge Prudence, not that I’d any idea how I might accomplish that.” A faint smile teased her lips. “In any case, I was prepared to dislike you. I meant to do my job and be on my way.” Her gaze locked with his. “But this has been so much more. I feel like I helped you, at least with the estate, and I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’m surprisingly glad you came. And you have helped, with more than just the estate.” She’d awakened him from his misery.

“I’m so glad. You will find a path through this.” She gave him an encouraging smile, but it didn’t soothe the sting of her dismissal of their mutual attraction.

He would find his way. He’d just do it alone.

That was why he had defenses and why he needed to keep them in place. He’d suffered so much pain. It was impossible to manage. If he didn’t care and didn’t feel, he could stumble through each day without anguish.

But that also meant he went without joy and a multitude of other emotions. He began to wonder if it was truly worth the effort.

“We should get back,” he said. The magic of the afternoon had passed. “I know you still have a great deal of work to do, and you’ve only tomorrow left to complete it.”

“I hope you’ll have dinner with me,” she said tentatively.

“It might be best if we don’t.” He stood and helped her to her feet. Then he packed up the rest of the basket while she picked up and folded the blanket. “You’re right that this is a temptation we should avoid. Besides, I need to learn to get on without you here.”

He ought to have offered her his arm, but he didn’t want her to touch him again. He didn’t trust his most basic impulses. It was torture not to kiss her.

Without looking back, he carried the basket to the cart and set it inside. He lingered there while she made her way to join him. She set the blanket on the basket and went to climb into the cart. Again, he should have helped her and again he didn’t, like the dolt he was.

She might have helped him step back into the light. He just wasn’t sure he could stay.

Ada stared up at the bed hangings. Was Max really going to let her leave without saying goodbye? Without even seeing her? She hadn’t clapped eyes on him since they’d returned to the house yesterday following their picnic.

During which he’d admitted to knowing they’d kissed, and it seemed likely he was going to kiss her again. Until she’d put a stop to it. She feared she would regret that for the rest of her days.

More than you’d regret having sex with him? Because you know that very well could have come next.

I’ll never know, shall I?

These arguments with herself were becoming quite tedious. She looked forward to returning to London tomorrow and prayed for a quieter mind.

Except she suspected her thoughts would be occupied with the beast of Stonehill for some time. She nearly giggled at the title. Now he definitely sounded like some sort of gothic romantic hero.

Her humor faded quickly. There was no romance here. She wondered if there was truly even friendship since he hadn’t bothered to come to dinner last night or tonight. He hadn’t even popped into the library.

Perhaps she’d hurt him yesterday. Did he feel rejected? She’d hate it if she caused him pain. This was about her and not repeating past mistakes. It had nothing to do with him at all, beyond the fact that she found him too damn tempting. If she could live without consequences, she would have greedily taken him in her arms yesterday.

Even with consequences, she’d considered it.

But aside from repeating mistakes, she was far too romantically minded. She fell in love easily—or at least with the idea of being in love. One would think she’d be safe from any sort of romantic inclination where the viscount was involved, but he’d shown himself to be a man of great depth. He realized he needed to change, and he was trying to do so. That took an enormous amount of courage, particularly given what he’d been through.

How she wished she knew the specifics, if only because she thought it would likely help him to unburden himself. He had, at least somewhat, and she was grateful she could be a support to him.

Turning to her side, she closed her eyes. She needed to sleep. Morning would come far too soon.

A sound made her eyes jolt open. Was that a knock? Rolling back over, she slipped from the bed and padded to the door on bare feet.

Without waiting for a second knock—if there’d even been a first—she opened the door. Framed beyond the threshold stood the primary object of her thoughts.

The edge of Max’s mouth lifted in a near smile. “I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither.” She opened the door wider in silent invitation.

He stepped inside, and she closed the door behind him. “I probably shouldn’t have come.”

“I’m glad you did. Now I can berate you for ignoring me since yesterday.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” he said a bit wearily. “There have been plenty of days during your stay that I haven’t seen you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a perturbed stare. “I misspoke. You were avoiding me. Which is what you were doing on the days we didn’t see each other. Don’t bother denying it.”

“You’re really angry with me.” He sounded surprised. “I didn’t think you got angry.”

She unfolded her arms with a weighty exhalation. “I’m not angry. I was disappointed. I thought I might not see you again.”

“And that upset you?”

Was he being purposely obtuse?

He lifted his hands. “I thought you wanted distance. You said you were tempted yesterday, and I?—”

“Oh, be quiet.” She grabbed the front of his dressing gown and stepped toward him. Then she stood on her toes and kissed him.

He kissed her back, but tentatively. She pulled back and looked into his eyes.

His brow furrowed. “I’m confused.”

“I wanted to keep you at arm’s length because I’m leaving.” And because I shouldn’t take you to my bed. “I’ve since realized it’s precisely because I’m leaving that I don’t want you to stay away.”

“Ah. I think I understand. Should I stay, then?”

“Do you know how to prevent a baby?”

“Ah, yes. To try, anyway.”

“If you’ll do that, then yes, stay.”

He wanted to be clear. “Not just to sleep?”

She shook her head.

He wrapped his hand around the end of her braid, which hung down her back. “You’re certain?”

She nodded, and he tugged the ribbon from her hair before pulling the braid loose. He lowered his head and kissed her, but there was no hesitation this time. There was heat and desire, his tongue licking into her as she clutched at his shoulders.

Her body sang with want. This was what she’d craved, what she’d been longing for without entirely realizing or at least acknowledging it. She connected to something within him, something that made her feel valued and appreciated.

Or was she only romanticizing things because that was what she wanted to feel?

Stop thinking.

She twined her arms around his neck, and he lifted her in his arms. She went to curl her legs around his waist, but had to pull up her night rail first. Linking her feet behind him, she held him tightly, her sex pressed against his, though his dressing gown separated them.

He groaned, and it was a much different sound from his irritated grunts and growls. This was low and hungry, and it made her want to provoke him to do it over and over again.

One of his hands moved down to her backside, cradling her against him. Sparks of desire shot through her. She dug her fingers into his neck, deepening their kiss to a frenzied exploration. She wanted to know all of him. Now.

He walked with her to the bed, at least she assumed that was where they were going. She honestly couldn’t pay attention. He might have walked her across the house, and she wouldn’t have realized. It was all she could do to hold on to him as her body quivered with need.

Then he set her on the bed and tore his mouth from hers so he could whip her night rail over her head. His gaze dipped to her chest, and he cupped her breast with one hand. “I don’t think I can go slow.”

She arched into him, eager for his touch. “Then don’t. You can go slow later.” Lifting her hands to his chest, she unfastened his dressing gown and pushed it from his shoulders.

He was entirely nude beneath it, the light from the embers of the fire casting shadows over his taut flesh. He was too thin, but still muscular and, of course, covered in those scars she’d seen the other night.

Ada wanted to kiss and caress each one, as if she could make him whole again. Could anything make him whole again?

She lifted her gaze to his and found him watching her.

“I’m not the most attractive of men anymore.”

“You are beautiful,” she whispered, gingerly putting her fingertips to the burn scar on his left shoulder. “When I think of the pain you suffered, I want to hurt someone. I want to make sure you never feel that again. I’m so sorry if I hurt you yesterday.”

He clasped the back of her neck. “You didn’t. I appreciate your honesty—always. Which is why I don’t want you to lie to me. Ever. You can’t think I’m beautiful.”

“You’re magnificent, actually.” She kissed the thin scar on his chest, moving her lips softly over his flesh.

His fingers twined in her hair and his other hand gently caressed her breast. Then he tugged her head back and kissed her again with a savage intensity that set her entire body aflame. She didn’t think she’d ever been this aroused. Desperate, really.

He pinched her nipple, pulling it so sensation exploded through her, arcing straight to her sex. She moaned into his mouth, wanting more. She pulled him closer, and he leaned over her, pushing her back onto the mattress.

His mouth left hers, and he seared a path down her throat and into the valley of her breasts, his lips and tongue scalding her flesh. She gripped his head, guiding him to her breast, needing to feel his mouth on her. He obliged, holding her as he closed over her nipple. He sucked, then grazed his teeth over the tip, making her cry out as a desperate hunger pulsed between her legs.

“Max,” she breathed, her fingers digging into his scalp as he devoured her breast. Sensations overwhelmed her, and she wrapped her legs around him.

He turned her on the bed and moved over her. His hand skimmed up her inner thigh, and she spread herself for him, holding her breath until he touched her where she most wanted him to.

His fingers gently stroked her sex, spreading her folds on his way to pressing her clitoris. She moaned again, his mouth still tormenting her breast. It was too much and yet not enough.

Ada lifted her hips, seeking more of him. Then he slid his finger into her, and she cast her head back as pleasure built. She wanted him—all of him—inside her. “Now, Max, please.”

He lifted his head and met her gaze, holding it as he slid his cock into her. She hadn’t even had time to touch him, to explore him, but she would. She didn’t need to sleep tonight.

She was so close and moved closer still when he thrust fully into her. She wrapped her legs around him once more and drew his head down to kiss him. He began to move, his hand still between them as he stroked her clitoris. It was all she needed to break apart. She came hard, her muscles clenching as ecstasy washed over her.

It was never-ending, for as he continued to drive into her, she rose even higher, her body cresting on new waves of rapture. At last, her orgasm faded, but the pleasure remained. She wanted more of him and wasn’t sure she’d ever get enough.

She clutched at his back, moving her hand down to the curve of his backside, reveling in the delicious firmness of his muscles. He slowed his movements, thrusting harder and deeper, claiming her with relentless purpose. He would take everything, and she would eagerly give it.

His mouth was still on hers, his breath rasping into her. Their bodies slicked together as they moved. She dug her heels into him, and he groaned just before snagging her lower lip with his teeth.

He kissed along her jaw to her ear, whispering, “Come again. Please.”

She was already on her way, her body climbing to the precipice from which she would tumble into a rapturous abyss. His hips snapped against hers, and he picked up speed again. Over and over, he drove into her until she fell a second time. She cried out as he thrust twice more. Then he pulled away from her with an anguished moan.

Ada turned with him, her hand finding his cock as she stroked him through his release. He collapsed to his back, and when he was finished, she snuggled next to him.

“You’ve done that before.” He was still breathing fast, and she couldn’t tell if that bothered him.

“I told you I did.”

“I meant that last part. After I left you, and you…helped.”

“Er, yes. I had a lover, and we did that.” Until they’d gotten lazy. “Does that trouble you?” Her breath held as she waited for his response.

He turned toward her and gathered her close. “Not at all. You are perfectly wonderful just as you are. Was he the man who broke your heart?”

Ada now knew what it felt like to be on the other side of intrusive curiosity. “Yes, but it wasn’t his fault.” Not entirely, anyway.

“I’d thrash him if I could.” He gazed at her intently, and she knew he meant what he said. “Did you mean what you said about later?”

“That we could go slower then?” Grateful that he didn’t ask her more about the past, she kissed him, then hovered her lips over his. “Yes.”

He swept her hair back from her face and kissed her deeply, pressing her back into the mattress. When he finally lifted his head, she was breathless.

Ada caressed his cheek, her thumb sweeping over his scar. “I’m glad you came to see me. I regretted what I said yesterday.”

“It’s probably for the best, or you wouldn’t have finished your work. Now you are unencumbered.”

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “I can focus entirely on you for the remainder of the night.”

“You should also sleep.”

Pulling his head back down to hers, she murmured, “We can sleep when we’re dead.”

There was no way she was wasting a moment of their last night together.