storm out in a huff, but he clutched her even tighter and nestled her down again. 'There's more to it," he whispered. 'Then explain it to me." "I can experience the same ecstasy as you." "But you didn't?"
"No, and it makes me grouchy. I'm so aroused that even my teeth are aching. I can barely keep from proceeding."
"So go ahead. What's preventing you?" "There are other ... uh ... aspects to it." "And I want to do them!" "You just think you do," he declared. "No, I'm pretty sure I mean it."
"It involves my ruining you, my taking your virginity."
"How does that transpire? I've always wondered."
"It's for your husband to demonstrate."
She scoffed. "As if some man would marry me. Especially after this!"
"It requires something totally magnificent, but totally reckless, and if we carried on and you later wished you hadn't, you couldn't ever fix what we'd done."
"You're speaking in riddles again."
"Just believe that I like you too much to hurt you that way."
At his admission, she smiled. "You do?"
"Yes. You provoke me beyond my limits. I don't know what to do with you."
She gazed at the far wall, the marvelous words sinking in. In the past, she'd never thought much about marriage, but now that she'd met him, it dawned on her that there was an entire side to it that she'd never considered. What would it be like to have a man like Jordan for her own? The prospect had her seriously reflecting on what she'd missed by remaining a spinster, and suddenly, it seemed like so very much.
She yawned, and he laughed.
"I'm tired."
"I bet you are. Sex can be rather draining."
"Will you show me what to do someday? Will you teach me how to please you?"
After a lengthy hesitation, he murmured, "I will."
He grabbed for a blanket and covered them with it, sealing them in a snug cocoon. She reached over her shoulder to caress his cheek, and he kissed her hand.
"Why were you angry?" she inquired.
"When?"
"When I first heard you in the dressing room, you were very upset." "My father is here." "I know. I was introduced to him." "He can be difficult."
"Really? He seemed very charming to me."
He snorted. "Charming, yes. He's definitely charming, but you should be wary of him."
"Wary? Of your father? Would he harm me?"
"Well, you don't have any money, so he probably won't notice you, but he's capable of any treachery."
"Your father?" she queried again, not quite able to accept it.
"Yes. Hush now. Rest for a bit."
He pulled her closer, and shortly, her eyelids drifted shut. She dozed, content in the circle of his arms, but when she awoke, he was gone, the bedchamber next door eerily silent, and there was no sign that he'd ever been there with her, at all.
Chapter Eight
It's not fair that such a horrid child should have so much money." "No, it's not." Anne toasted Charles with her glass of brandy.
"Why would Fate waste a bloody fortune on someone so unworthy?"
"I believe that's why it's called Fate" Anne said. "There's no rational explanation."
She'd had too much to drink, which was dangerous. In light of her ill humor, she might say anything, even things she didn't mean, even things she couldn't retract later on.
She didn't usually overindulge, but her reckless mood was growing stronger by the second, and she was desperate to tamp it down.
Would Charles steal Jordan's fiancée? Would he marry again after swearing to Anne that he wouldn't? Could he really behave that badly to the last two people on earth who still tolerated him?
If he made a play for Penelope Gray, then Anne would have to make a play of her own. She couldn't stay with him, and she yearned to ask him outright, to demand a straight answer, but she was too much of a coward.
If he admitted that he was about to seduce Miss Gray, Anne would finally be pushed into a decision. But where would she go? What would she do?
By hooking up with Charles as she had, she'd lost contact with friends or relatives who might have assisted her in a crisis. She was on her own,