It was late by the time they stopped for the night. Olivia had known Jasper was frustrated by the slow pace of their travels. It had taken longer than he’d wanted for them to conclude their business in Penbury. They might have made better time if she hadn’t stopped to say goodbye to the few acquaintances she had there, but they’d been kind and helpful over the years. Olivia didn’t want to leave without a farewell.

She didn’t know exactly how much coin Jasper had brought with him, but it was far more than she’d expected. Since he insisted they stay together, she’d waited in the common room while he fetched his belongings at the inn. Then she’d followed as he’d inquired about a coach and horses. An hour or so later, all was ready for them. He’d procured a closed carriage and four horses he could change at posting houses along the way. She’d expected a cart and one horse, if that.

“How much coin do you have?” she asked as she looked at the conveyance.

“Not as much as all this, but it helps to be the son of the Marquess of Strathern. I have good credit.”

“I’ll pay you back,” she said.

“I wouldn’t accept payment if you offered.” He gestured to the carriage. Richard was already climbing about inside, exploring every inch. “Your carriage awaits, Miss Carlisle.”

“And are you to play coachman?”

He nodded. “Much quieter out here.”

She’d laughed because she already dreaded Richard’s constant questions.

Now at the inn where they’d stopped for the night, Jasper procured two rooms. Richard had fallen asleep hours before, and he carried the boy to her room and tucked him in. “I’ve ordered refreshment if you’re hungry.”

“I am.” The movement of the carriage made her slightly nauseous and she had not eaten much on the road.

“I’ve asked it to be sent to my room.” His look was apologetic. “Shall I tell them we’ll eat downstairs?”

She shook her head. Jasper’s room was across the hall and close to Richard. “I think my virtue, what is left of it, is safe with you, my lord.”

He gave her a look she couldn’t read since he wore his mask and gestured for her to follow him. In the hallway, they met the maidservant with the supper tray. Once the food was laid out on a table, Jasper sent the servant away, and Olivia sank into a chair with a cup of warm tea.

“I’ve forgotten how awful traveling by coach can be. I think I felt every rock and rut.”

He sat across from her and rolled his shoulders. “I’m afraid the conveyance isn’t well-sprung.”

She shrugged. “Another day and we’ll be in London.”

“It may be a day and a night. I thought we’d make better time today.”

“I’m sorry we slowed you down.”

He broke off a piece of bread from the warm loaf. “I should have realized traveling in company is slower than traveling alone. You locked the door to your room?”

She nodded, holding up the key. “Yes, but I don’t want to stay long. If Richard wakes, he won’t know where I am.”

Jasper laughed. “He’s so tired I’ll probably have to carry him out to the carriage in the morning.”

She smiled. “This is the most excitement he’s had...ever, I think.”

Jasper ate silently, and it was a comfortable silence. “Richard is worried about you,” he said. Her head jerked up.

“What do you mean?”

He ate a bit of his vegetable tart. “He told me yesterday that he knew you were scared. He asked me to protect you.”

Her heart plummeted to her stomach, and she pushed her food away. “Children always know when adults are afraid. No matter how well we hide it.”

“I’ll tell you what I told him. I won’t let anything happen to you. Either of you.”

She pressed a hand to her chest because her heart clenched.

“I’ll protect you.” His hazel eyes were very intent as he spoke. “I promise.” “Like you protected the men of your troop when you received your scar. I...” She swallowed at the emotion threatening to choke her. “I can’t tell you what it means to me that you’d say that. Thank you.”

To her surprise, he glanced away from her in anger.

“Jasper?”

“I think before you start thanking me you should hope I protect you better than I did my friends. If I had, you wouldn’t be masquerading as Peter Collins’s widow. Peter would be alive.”

“He was the soldier who died in the fire.” It wasn’t a question. He’d given her enough information over the time they’d spent together that she’d worked it out.

“I went in to save him. I failed.” He rose and walked away

“Not without a fight. I can look at your scar and know that the wound almost killed you.”

“There were days I wished it had. The pain was so great.” He stopped at the window and parted the curtains. “The pain and the guilt.”

“Do you think Peter would wish you dead?”

“No,” he answered without pause. “And he wouldn’t want my guilt either. We went into every mission expecting to die, ready to die. But that didn’t mean we went without a fight.”

She rose and went to him. “You lived, and I can’t regret that because if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have ever found me.”

“I also wouldn’t have led someone to your cottage. You’d still be safe there.”

“I’d still be in prison there. You’ve given me a chance to start again. A chance for Richard to know his family.”

“The ton is not so forgiving.” His tone held a warning.

“I may live the rest of my life as an outcast, a scandalous woman. But I won’t hide away in fear anymore.” But even as she said it, her voice trembled.

“I told you, I won’t let the duke hurt you. You’re not a child any longer. No one can force you to marry him.” He stared out the window.

She nodded, tears filling her eyes. She’d been strong the past two days for Richard, but now her legs wanted to crumple and her resolve felt shaky. “There’s just so much I can’t control. What will my parents say when they see Richard? What about my old friends? What do I do if Withernsea comes to call on me?”

“Tell him to get the hell out,” Jasper said.

His matter-of-fact tone made her laugh. “You make it all seem so simple.”

“It is simple. As someone who has lived outside the confines of Society for years, I promise you, life without those rules and strictures is much easier.”

“Even for a woman?”

“A woman whose parents were willing to pay my fees to see their daughter again? Yes. They want you back. They love you.”

It should have reassured her. Perhaps she could finally stop running, finally make a real home for Richard and herself. But she had a new fear now. “I want to see them again, but I can’t stop myself wondering—what happens between us when we reach London?” She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him.

She hadn’t wanted him in her life, but now she couldn’t imagine being without him.

He dropped the curtains and faced her. “I’ll stay nearby to make certain Withernsea doesn’t bother you, and you’re safe with your parents.”

“And then?” She looked up at him, into his eyes what were neither green nor brown at the moment.

“There can’t be anything else. I’m not the sort of man who pays court to ladies. I’m the son of a marquess who has gone into trade. My services are for hire. Even if I didn’t have this scarred face, no respectable father would want me for his daughter.” His tone made it seem as though the matter was already decided. She didn’t want to believe that.

“What if his daughter isn’t exactly respectable?”

“Then she doesn’t need me to complicate her situation further. It’s best if once you’re settled that I’ll leave you alone.”

All of the air in her lungs seemed to whoosh out and leave her deflated. She could nod and accept what he said. It was probably the best course of action. But if she didn’t tell him how she felt now, she might never have another chance. She swallowed. “What if I don’t want you to leave me alone?”

Jasper shook his head slowly. “You will once you return to London.”

“I won’t.” She pressed on, determined to say it now. “I’ve come to care about you, Jasper.”

“You’re scared and vulnerable. You don’t know what you’re feeling.” She smacked his arm and he jumped back. “Hey!”

“Who are you to tell me I don’t know what I feel?” Her annoyance had given her courage. “I know what I feel when you hold me, when you kiss me, when you look at me, when I see you carrying my son.”

“Olivia.” His tone held a warning.

“You want me to change the subject? Then tell me you don’t feel the same. Tell me you don’t care about me, but if you say it, I’ll know you’re lying. I’ve seen lust. I’ve experienced it. There’s more than lust between us.” Her cheeks were as hot as the fire in the grate, but she didn’t look away.

“There’s plenty of lust,” he said, and the look he gave her should have scared her. It would have terrified her a week ago. But now it made her breath catch with hope and need.

“Then maybe you should walk away from me when we reach London. Maybe I should go back to my room right now.” Please don’t let me go. “I should forget about kissing you, touching you.” He closed his eyes, his face the image of a man in pain. Olivia stepped closer. “Or should I stay?”

“Stay.” His arms went around her, pulling her against him. Heat shot through her where their bodies touched. Under the heat was an acute awareness of everything about him, from the solidity of his chest to the hardness of his forearms where they pressed against her lower back. He leaned down to kiss her, but she leaned back slightly.

“You’re still wearing your mask.”

“Take it off me.”

She practically moaned at the low, teasing tone of his voice. Hands trembling slightly, she lifted them to the ties behind his head and pulled the strings. She pulled them off and allowed them to drop to the floor. “That’s better.”

He leaned in to kiss her again.

“Admit it,” she said as his lips brushed over hers, sending tingles of pleasure racing through her. “Admit this is more than lust.”

His eyes met hers for a long moment. “This is more than lust, Olivia.” His gaze still locked with hers, he bent his head and kissed her until her knees were weak and she had to cling to him or crumple to a heap on the floor. He kissed her throat again, her earlobe, and then unbuttoned her spencer so he could tantalize her collarbone and shoulder. He used his mouth, keeping his hands on her back or waist, but she became aware that he slid them up from her waist over her ribs, resting them just below her breasts. Her nipples hardened at his closeness, aching for relief. She wasn’t certain what would bring it.

“Can I touch you?” he asked. A finger swept upward, grazing the underside of one breast. “Here?”

She nodded.

“Yes?” he asked, repeating the gesture with the other hand.

“Yes,” she breathed.

His hands slid up and cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing the sensitive points. “Like this?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

His hands caressed her gently, but though she sought relief his touch only teased and inflamed, making her want more.

“You like when I use my tongue here?” he looked up from kissing her shoulder. “And here?” He whispered in her ear and kissed it, sliding his tongue along the edge. “May I use my tongue here?” One finger circled her nipple, causing her breath to hitch.

She didn’t know how to refuse. Her whole body trembled with a need she couldn’t name. All she could manage was to kiss him and whisper, “Yes.”

He lowered her to the bed. She hadn’t realized they’d moved to stand beside it, but she was grateful. Her legs wobbled and when she lay down her head stopped spinning. He leaned over her, unpinning the front of her simple dress. For a moment she looked up at his figure above her and thought of another time and another man towering over her.

As though sensing her distress, Jasper slid down beside her, propping his head on his elbow. “Better?”

She nodded.

“Where was I?”

“The pins.”

He reached for the bodice again and held up a pin. “Last one.” His fingers lowered the fabric of her dress, and she closed her eyes.

***

HER CHEST ROSE AND fell almost as though she’d been running. Though her dress was modest, now that Jasper had the bodice lowered, he could see the swells of her breasts rising above her stays and chemise. Her skin was creamy against the dingy material of her underclothes. If she was his, he would buy her a soft new chemise and stays with pink ribbons so he could take his time tying and untying them. As it was, her stays were easy to open. They laced in front, which was a welcome change from those he remembered, which laced in back. But then she hadn’t had a servant to help her dress. All of her clothing was practical. He would have dressed her in impractical lacy concoctions. He’d never paid much attention to women’s clothing before, but he would have liked to see something besides brown and gray on Olivia. She wasn’t yet five and twenty. She should be wearing blue and yellow and green.

He pushed the stays open and slid them down slightly, leaving only the chemise blocking his access to her flesh. A string tied in a bow kept it cinched, and that was easily undone. Now it was simply a matter of tugging the thin material of the chemise down. He could already see the outline of her breast beneath, the hard points of her nipples straining. He lowered the fabric, revealing the swells of her breasts but pausing just above the aureoles. Looking up, he studied her face—eyes closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed. “May I keep going?”

She bit her lip, nodding. It seemed almost as though his actions pained her. Jasper vowed to have her crying out in pleasure before long. He kissed the soft roundness of her breasts, first one then the other. She was warm and smelled of the sea and woman. Her skin was impossibly soft, and he half feared to hurt her with his rough stubble.

And then he tugged the remainder of the material down, exposing her, and he forgot his reservations.

She was small, but firm and round. Her pink nipples were like blush-colored berries in the center of a dollop of cream. He couldn’t stop himself from taking one in his mouth and sucking ever so lightly. Her hands slid into his hair, and he had no doubt she wanted him right where he was, doing exactly what he was doing. It was no hardship to tease and cup and suck the velvet flesh. He liked the sounds she made when he circled her aureoles. He liked the way she bucked when he took a swollen nipple into his mouth and rolled it over his tongue before sucking until her hips rose from the bed.

Her face was pink now, her eyes half-lidded. Jasper kissed her neck again, just behind her ear. One hand fondled a breast, unable to cease touching her. “I can give you pleasure,” he murmured. She took a breath and exhaled shakily. “Can I show you?”

She turned her head, and her eyes, so large and dark he couldn’t even discern her pupils, met his. “You’ll stop if...”

“Whenever you want.”

He slid the hand on her breast down to her ribs. Her eyes seemed to glitter and in the candlelit room, shadows danced on her skin and her clothing. His hand slid down further, into those shadows, brushing over her center. She made a small sound, but he kept going until he caught hold of her skirts. Slowly, he tugged them up, his gaze never leaving hers. Finally, his fingertips brushed flesh. He stilled, allowing her to become used to his touch on her thigh. “May I continue?”

Her eyes searched his. “Yes.”

He cupped her thigh with his hand, the flesh warm and giving to his touch. “You are so soft.” His fingers inched higher. “Like silk.” He slid his hand between her legs, parting them slightly. The air whooshed out of her lips, and he kept his gaze steady on hers. “Do you like this?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know if I should.”

He wrinkled his brow. “If you don’t, I’m doing something wrong.”

“I like it,” she whispered. His hand skated up her inner thighs until he felt the soft curls of her center brush his knuckles.

“I think you’ll like this more.” He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her gently and tangling his fingers in her hair until he found her folds. She was slick with desire for him, and he slipped between them to rest two fingers against the heat of her.

He pulled back and looked down at her, not moving his hand, allowing her to become used to the feel of it between her legs. “There’s a little place here.” He moved one finger up until he found the rounded nub he sought. When he grazed it, she made a choked sound. “And if I tease that little nub, touch it, caress it”—he tapped the bud with his fingertip—“it will bring you to climax.”

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

He swallowed and stilled. “You’ve never climaxed before?”

“I don’t know.”

He let out a breath. “You would know. And, no, it doesn’t hurt. It feels...better than almost anything. Can I show you?”

She nodded, and he began to circle her bud with his thumb, moving his fingers into her folds. Her breathing sped up and he couldn’t help but glance down at the rise and fall of her breasts, her nipples peaking and red from his attentions and her arousal. Her legs relaxed, opened slightly, and then she realized what she’d done and clamped them closed again.

“You’ll like it more if you open your legs,” he murmured. “Go ahead. I can’t see.”

She hesitated and then her legs fell open. He slid a finger up and over her, wetting her until she was slick, and then he gently massaged her with his thumb. His finger dipped inside her, just a fraction of an inch, teasing her. Her hips rose, and he entered her to the knuckle, sliding in and out as his thumb continued its ministrations. Her breath was short and punctuated by moans now. Her hands clawed the bed as she strained. Her muscles clamped briefly around his finger, and he withdrew it, coming back with two fingers to stroke the heat and wetness of her. He wanted to kiss her, but her head twisted from side to side as he rocked his fingers inside her and kept up the relentless teasing of her nub.

And then she cried out and stiffened. Her body tightened, squeezing his fingers. She lifted her hips, grinding against his hand as she cried out again and again. He could see that she struggled for control, saw that it was beyond her, and enjoyed watching her give it up for the pleasure. She seemed to ride every last wave of it, arching her back so he could take a thick nipple in his mouth and suck. She cried out again before her body finally began to relax and loosen its grip on him. He’d stopped moving his thumb, pressing it against her instead, but not before he flicked it gently across her. She jumped and moaned, and Jasper looked up at her, mouth still on her breast.

“And now you know what it feels like to climax.”

She looked down at him with eyes all but clouded over from pleasure. “You look like sin incarnate,” she said.

“There’s a reason people keep sinning. Even when they know it’s wrong, it feels so very right.”

He grazed her bud again, and she whimpered.

“More?” he asked, licking the curve of her breast.

“If I say yes, I’ll never go back to my room. I’ve already left Richard alone too long.”

If it she had been another woman, Jasper would have convinced her to stay and would have made it exceedingly worth the sacrifice. Instead, he pulled back, lowered her skirts, and with a last kiss, covered her chest. “I’ll walk you back to your room,” he said as she sat up, slowly straightening her clothing.

She nodded, looking dazed and flushed and thoroughly rumpled. “It’s just across the hall.”

“And I’ll stand outside to make certain your door is locked.”

She didn’t argue. They still didn’t know who had been behind the attack on Jasper and couldn’t know whether they’d been followed when they left Penbury. Neither of them were taking any chances. Her fingers shook as she laced and pinned her clothing into place. It was badly done, but when she yanked her spencer on, the sad state of her bodice was hidden. It was too bad, really. He liked seeing her rumpled. She looked even more lovely to him when her hair was mussed and her eyes heavy-lidded.

He walked her back to her room, waited for her to unlock the door, then checked the room to be certain all was as it should be. It was, and he went back to the hallway to wait for her to lock it.

She’d half closed the door before he grasped it with a hand. “Olivia.”

“Yes?”

“Next time I’ll use my tongue.” He released the door and pulled it closed on her shocked expression. It took a few moments, but he finally heard her fumbling with the lock. With a smile, Jasper went back to his room.