Gray jumped as the latch to the bedchamber rattled. He hadn’t locked the door, thinking himself safe while in his sister’s home. With the intrusion, he lunged from his position under the bed sheets, staring at the play of candlelight on the ceiling. He didn’t reach halfway to his dirk on the writing desk before Charlie slipped into the room and shut the door.

Cursing, he lunged for the banyan that had been left for his use and wrapped it around his nude body. Her gaze raked down his front. Slowly, she returned her attention to his face. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She’d entered his bedchamber unannounced, which he thought would startle anyone. Has she lost her bloody mind? After double-checking that the sash tying his robe together was secure, he crossed to the door and reached for the latch. She stubbornly stood in the way.

“We’re at my sister’s house now. It isn’t proper for you to be here.”

Her gaze hardened, like flecks of aquamarine. “I’d think you’d know by now that I don’t give a whit what is proper, not if it will interfere with us.” She reached out and laid her hand on his silk-covered bicep. “I’m worried.”

His resistance melted beneath her touch, and he gathered her close, laying his cheek atop her head. With her nearness, the knots in his shoulders and stomach started to loosen. “I’m worried, too,” he confessed.

Truthfully, ever since retiring, he’d lain abed visualizing every horrible scenario they might find when they reached London. In the worst, not only was his mother dead, but the rest of his family had been hurt as well. With the rain lashing the side of the mansion, an audible reminder that he was trapped indoors, he’d never felt more helpless.

Breathing deep, he let Charlie’s warmth sink into his bones. She smelled of the floral soap she must have used in her bath. His body stirred. He’d never wanted to kiss her more, but he knew that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Instead, he drew away.

She didn’t let him. Raising her hand, she cupped his newly shaven cheek and looked him in the eye. “We will save her. Together. Neither of us will abide for anything less.”

The conviction in her voice raised a lump in his throat. He swallowed thickly. Turning his head, he pressed a kiss to her palm.

“You should leave,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He didn’t want her to. When she was near, she put him at ease. No longer was he plagued by nightmarish scenarios. All he thought about—all he wanted to think about—was her.

All the more so when she ran her tongue across her lower lip. He burned, his gaze fastened to her mouth.

“Perhaps I should.” Her voice was every bit as soft as his. “I don’t much feel like doing what I ought to do right now.”

Raising herself on tiptoe, she brushed her mouth over his. He was powerless to resist. Holding her head steady, he deepened the kiss. With his free hand, he pressed her against him. When she dipped her hand beneath the collar of his banyan, he trembled at the touch of her bare skin.

He broke the kiss, breathing heavily. “Charlie, you must leave. If you stay… I don’t know if I trust myself to stop.”

She nibbled on her plump lower lip. “Do you want to stop?”

He swore under his breath. “No, I don’t. That’s the problem.”

She twined her arms around his neck and pressed her body flush against his. It was torture. “I don’t see a problem. I want this, too.”

Lud! He wasn’t nearly as honorable as he pretended to be. As he kissed her again, surrendering to the feel of her body, he placated himself with the knowledge that they would marry after this. He would offer her nothing less.

She moaned against his mouth as he ran his hands over her figure, learning every curve. Pleasure hummed through his veins, stoking his desire. He kissed her with all the pent-up passion he’d held in check since the moment they’d met. When she slipped her hands deeper beneath his banyan, he made no move to stop her.

Feverishly, he undid her buttons and untied the stays beneath. He moaned at the sensation of her smooth skin as he chased the fabric over her shoulders and down her arms. His breath caught as he revealed more of her beautiful body. She was a goddess, but he preferred when she had a challenging spark in her eye to when she looked uncertain.

Her cheeks were flushed with color. Her thick eyelashes veiled her eyes as she traced the hasty knot he’d tied in his sash. “Anthony?”

“Yes, love?”

“Do you think perhaps it’s time to get into bed… beneath the sheets?”

He smiled, wondering how a woman so beautiful and brazen could suddenly be so shy. Cupping her chin, he kissed her gently. “You are beautiful, Charlie. Body and soul.”

The pinkness in her cheeks deepened. “I never used to be. Growing up, I was the plainest girl to be found.”

“You would still have been beautiful to me.” He had to make her understand that the sparkle in her eye was her crowning jewel. Her laugh and smile brightened a room.

And her strength of character was remarkable—by now, any other woman would have showed weakness where Charlie displayed determination and compassion. No other woman could compare.

Since he could render none of that into words, he kissed her soundly. After a moment, he lifted her and carried her to the bed, relenting to her request. He would have years to enjoy the sight of her body. Decades.

As he shucked his banyan and slid into the bed next to her, he pulled the sheets over their heads. The candlelight cast an odd orange glow through the thin white fabric. Charlie licked her lips as he held himself over her.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking us on an adventure. Pretend we’re someplace else, on a sandy beach in the Caribbean Isles.”

The shyness in her expression melted into the shadows, leaving only a sly smile. There was the Charlie he knew and admired, the woman who made him burn. “Oh?”

“We’re the only two people there. The water is lapping at your side.” He ran his fingers over the left side of her figure, lightly trailing his touch over every sensitive hollow until she gasped and squirmed. He kissed her neck, tasting her skin. She felt incredible against him.

When he reached the swell of her breast, she moaned and arched backward. “It’s hot in the Caribbean Isles.”

He chuckled. “You make it that way, my dear. I’ve burned for you ever since we first kissed.”

He continued his exploration of her body with lips and tongue, wanting to set her on fire the way she did him. It didn’t take much to render her speechless.

By the time he reached her thighs, she quivered and moaned with need. He brought her to the brink with desire, her fingers digging into his shoulders, before he aligned their bodies once more. He kissed her, holding her close as he joined their bodies. From the moment he slid into her, he couldn’t think of anything but the feel of her in his arms. Nothing mattered but that moment.

Desperate to reach that elusive pinnacle, he quickened his pace. Charlie’s moans and the weight of her legs wrapped around him heightened his pleasure. As she threw her head back and shuddered around him, he followed her into bliss.

His arms trembled as reality returned. Out of breath, he fought to pull the sheets down around their shoulders once more. Before his arms could no longer hold his weight, he rolled onto his side next to her. He kept one hand on her stomach, possessive. This was the start of something much more between them.

Her mussed hair clung to her cheek as she smiled at him. “I think I saw the stars in the Caribbean Isles.”

He grinned and kissed her shoulder. “I hope so. I worked hard to show them to you.”

She cupped his cheek. “I had no idea it could be like this.”

“Neither did I.” He’d made love to women before, but none had made him feel the way Charlie did. He trailed his fingers over her stomach, reveling in the feel of her. “I imagine it will be even better when we’re married. Morgan is a duke, and I’m certain he can arrange for a special license while we’re in London. In case…”

Charlie tensed. She shot into a sitting position and clutched the sheet to her chest. When Gray imagined broaching the subject of marriage, he didn’t expect the look on her face to be one of horror.

* * *

“Are you proposing to me?”

Charlie’s breath caught as she spoke the words. Her heart hammered in the base of her throat. She’d thought she would have more time. And Anthony… He spoke as if it were a foregone conclusion. She wondered whether it was. Would she marry him?

He sat up but didn’t bother to cling to the sheet. The candlelight illuminated the well-defined muscles of his chest beneath the mat of dark hair. Charlie battled the urge to touch him again, to feel his heart beat against her palm.

“I am… ” He chose his words slowly, a furrow forming between his eyebrows.

“Why?”

That furrow deepened along with his frown. “Bloody hell, Charlie, we just—” He motioned to indicate the bed and the fact that they laid in it together with not a stitch on. “In case—”

Lucy had warned her about this, about his damnable honorable streak. His brothers carried it as well. In fact, Phil had once confessed to her that Morgan had proposed after a single kiss. Perhaps Charlie should be grateful she hadn’t had to contend with that.

Lunging from the bed, Anthony retrieved the banyan from the floor and donned it hastily. He stood between her and her clothes.

Despite the intimacy they’d just shared, Charlie wasn’t quite as bold to fetch her clothing. She clung to the cover of the bed sheet instead. “In case of what, Anthony?” She knew precisely what he meant to say, but she had to hear him say it first.

“In case I’ve gotten you in the family way.”

If he’d wanted to avoid that, perhaps they never should have gone to bed together, after all.

No. She looked down and gathered her knees to her chest. She couldn’t regret sharing her body with him. In fact, she refused. What she and Anthony had shared had been nothing short of magical. Even his honor couldn’t erase that.

A sensible woman would accept the inevitability of marriage, but Charlie wanted adventure. She’d never planned to settle down so soon. Then again, she’d never planned to meet a man quite like Anthony, either. Surely he would never seek to prevent her from fulfilling her dream of adventure. He shared that dream. If he went on bended knee and professed his love to her…

But he hadn't. He spoke of children, of duty, not of love. Marrying simply because they ought to would be an anchor. She refused to do it to either of them.

Anthony lowered himself onto the foot of the bed in front of her. He reached out, taking her hand. “Charlie, surely you see the need to marry as well as I do.”

The need. A chasm split her chest as if he’d used those words to stab her. A lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it back. Perhaps she shouldn’t expect him to talk of love, of how much he cherished and desired a life with her.

“I will not marry you because I must, Anthony. I’m not ready for domestic life. I want adventure.”

His hand tightened on hers. “If you are with child—”

For heaven’s sake, it had been mere minutes since they’d lain together. She couldn’t possibly know or consider it so soon. She squeezed his hand before releasing it. “Freddie and Tristan have been married for over a year with no sign of babies. It isn’t instantaneous. If it happens, then we will speak of it.”

She didn’t know what answer she’d give him if that happened. She met his gaze, pressing her lips together to keep from begging. Tell me you love me. Three small words might change her answer.

He didn’t speak them. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He looked so vulnerable in that moment, but she hardened her heart. Her refusal was best for them both. He wouldn’t thank her if he married her for the wrong reasons.

“Think on it,” he said finally without meeting her gaze.

“My answer won’t change.” Her voice was thick with emotion. Swinging her legs around, she tried to keep her body behind the sheet as she rose. “I’m going to my room now. We have work to do tomorrow.”

She cupped his cheek in her hand, but he still refused to meet her gaze. The muscles in his jaw were as hard as rocks. As much as she ached to kiss him goodbye, she dropped her hand instead. She donned her clothes with haste.

When she reached the door, she glanced over her shoulder to find that he hadn’t moved from that position. He looked as tortured now as when she’d entered. All she’d wanted was to offer him comfort—and take some for herself.

Oh, Anthony.

Her chest burned. As she departed, she tried not to think about whether she loved him or if she was making a mistake.