“Estelle, wait!”

She could hear the clip of Ross’ boots on the cobblestones. He would catch her, of that she was certain. Still, she would not make it easy for him, and so she pressed on even though she wanted to crumple to the ground and sob until there were no more tears left to shed.

Perhaps she was still suffering after the harrowing events of the day. Perhaps the laudanum Mr Hungerford had used to drug her only added to her feelings of fragility.

“Estelle!” Ross pleaded. “At least give me a chance to explain.”

She ignored him, knowing that soon she would have to stop running. The pounding in her head had returned and the tears filling her eyes made it hard to see in the dark.

Ross grabbed the back of her cloak and swung her around to face him. She slipped on the damp cobblestones. One knee buckled, but she did not fall.

“Hold on to me.” Ross’ muscular arm slid around her waist, and he pulled her to his chest. “You should not have left your bed.”

“Why? Because you wish I’d not caught you cavorting with Lady Cornell?”

“I was not cavorting with Lady Cornell.”

“Then why did she kiss you? Why are you both half-dressed?” Her tone conveyed anger and disappointment, and yet being held by him was so comforting.

Damn these confounding contradictions.

“It is a simple misunderstanding. If you come inside, I shall explain.”

Lady Cornell’s carriage rattled past. She watched them from the window, a smug grin playing on her face.

“Look at her,” Estelle snapped. “The lady looks thoroughly satisfied to me.”

Ross dropped his arm, and she felt the loss instantly. “Do you honestly think I would entertain that woman while paying court to you?”

It was a trick question.

If she revealed her doubts and fears, she was admitting she didn’t trust him. Life in France had given her cause to trust no one. And yet, she desperately wanted to believe the best of him.

“I don’t know what to think, but I know what I saw.” For some bizarre reason, she wanted to be angry with him, too.

Ross took hold of her upper arms, not as firm as Philipe Robard had done, but in a gentle way that spoke of affection. “You saw a man roused from his bed by a madwoman intent on seduction. You saw me escort her to the carriage to ensure she did not return.”

“You must have invited her inside. You must have given her some indication that her efforts would be rewarded.”

Ross glanced up at the night sky and thrust his hands through his hair. “God, the woman needs no encouragement, and she happened to force her way into my house. Take a look at the broken door if you don’t believe me.”

Surprisingly, she did believe him. In her heart, she knew he would never lie to her. And yet her faith in him only served to accentuate the depths of her own deceit.

“It doesn’t matter now,” she said with a resigned sigh as she took a step back. “It was foolish of me to come.”

“What possessed you to walk the streets alone at this time of night? This is not a smugglers’ haven. Mrs Erstwhile would have a fit of apoplexy if she knew.”

“Mr Erstwhile brought me here in a hackney cab, but I asked that he leave me just outside the square.”

Mr Erstwhile had caught her sneaking downstairs. She couldn’t lie to him and had revealed her plan to visit Ross. He was not her father and could not forbid it, but having his respect and approval meant the world to her.

“Are you telling me he permitted you to come to a gentleman’s home in the middle of the night?”

Mr Erstwhile was an advocate of true love. He was a man who rose above petty judgements, a man disillusioned with Society’s rigid rules. She’d told him she loved Ross with all her heart and that was a justifiable reason for her to come.

“For a wise man, he can be extremely naive,” Ross added.

He could say what he liked about anyone else, but she would not stand for him belittling Mr Erstwhile.

“I think you’ll find he is exactly the opposite. Everything he says and does is based on experience and sound judgement. His motives are free from jealousy and spite, unlike your father.”

The last few words fell from her lips without thought.

“Unlike my father?” Ross blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?”

Estelle bit back a curse. She had come to tell him everything, purely because she wanted tomorrow to be a new day, a fresh start. Now she was not so sure.

“Just that some men act in their own best interests regardless of the cost.”

“And you think my father one of those men?” His frown conveyed suspicion.

She turned away from him. “I must go. The cab will be waiting.” The hackney had taken Mr Erstwhile back to Whitecombe Street. The gentleman assumed Ross would convey her home. “One lady has kept you from your bed. I should hate to do the same.”

“Then why come?” Ross grabbed her arm to prevent her hasty retreat. “Did leaving Prescott Hall have something to do with my father?”

Estelle tried to tug her arm free, but without warning, Ross grabbed her around the waist and hauled her over his shoulder.

“What on earth are you doing? Put me down.”

“Forgive my masterful approach, but you will come inside, and we will have it out.”

She knew what he meant by the comment, but still, images of them writhing naked in his bed flashed into her mind.

“Then put me down and let me walk.”

“No.” A large hand settled on her buttocks as he held her in place. He strode through the door leading from the mews to the garden. “For eight long, painful years you have left me in the dark. But it stops here, tonight.” He marched through the broken door, fragments of glass crunching beneath his feet. “You will tell me exactly why you ran, why you left me and permitted me to believe you were dead.”

She tried to wriggle free, but one strong arm held her there.

“I think I have been more than patient, Estelle.”

His boots clipped on the marble floor as he stormed through the hall. Estelle expected him to turn into the drawing room, but he headed for the stairs.

The butler appeared, his clothes a touch less than perfect. “Is everything all right, my lord. I heard raised voices.”

“Go to bed, Marley. Everything is in hand.”

“Y-yes. Good night, my lord.”

Ross mounted the stairs with ease, marched into his chamber and locked the door. Four long strides and he was at the bed. He threw her down onto the mattress and stood above her.

“Now,” he began, drawing his shirt over his head. “You will answer my questions. I think after all that has occurred you owe me your cooperation.”

Estelle nodded. She might have formed a reply, but her hungry eyes feasted on the muscular planes of his chest. The rippling muscles in his abdomen made her mouth water. As did the enticing line of dark hair drawing her eyes to a point below the waistband of his breeches.

“Let us get a few quick questions out of the way first. I’m told that is the best way to discover the truth.” He threw his shirt onto the chair behind him. “Did you ever love me?” He reached for her leg, unlaced her boot, tugged it off and let it fall to the floor.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I loved you with all my heart. I swear to you that is the truth.”

Ross removed the other boot. “Did you leave Prescott Hall under duress?”

She hesitated. “Yes.”

From the sudden rise and fall of his chest, his breath came quickly now.

“Did you want to marry me?” He took hold of her foot, his hands venturing up under her dress to undo the ribbon on her stocking.

“Yes,” she whispered as his warm hand settled on her bare thigh and rolled the stocking down to her ankle. As he removed it, he bent his head, kissed and nipped her toes. Heat flooded her body, burned in her core.

“Will you permit me to make love to you again?” He repeated the process with her other stocking, his heated gaze searing into her as he sucked the tip of each toe. “Right here. Right now.”

“You know I will,” she panted.

With a wild, sinful look in his eyes, he stared at her while unbuttoning his breeches. “Loving you has never been a problem for me. Trusting you, on the other hand, has proved infinitely more difficult.”

“I understand.”

With an arrogant grin, he pushed his breeches off his hips to reveal his solid shaft. Heavens above. Her nipples ached at the sight. The pulses in her intimate place grew more profound.

“Then you will answer the next question honestly. But first, believe me when I tell you that you’re the only woman I have pleasured these last two years.” He took her hands and brought her to her feet. “You’re the only woman I will pleasure until the day you say you no longer want me.”

“That will never happen.”

After removing her cloak, Ross turned her around and unthreaded the ties on her dress. Once undone, his hands settled on her shoulders, and he pushed the garment free until it fell to the floor. He did the same with her petticoat.

She wore front-fastening stays and so he would need to turn her back to face him. Instead, he stood behind her, the heat of his body penetrating the thin fabric. His hands traced the curve of her hips and the fullness of her breasts as he pressed his erection against her buttocks.

“Do you like that, Estelle?”

“Yes.” Her body ached for him, craved that which she had been denied for so long.

“Later, you can tell me what my father did to make you doubt me,” Ross said, pressing his lips to her neck, nipping the sensitive spot with his teeth, gently sucking. “You can tell me the reason you felt you couldn’t speak to me.”

Ross drew her round to face him, proceeded to work on her stays, tugging at the ties, pulling them free, watching her with a hot, intense gaze that made her knees weak. Her breasts jiggled as he continued with his ministrations. The sensual curve of his lips forced her to swallow hard.

Once he’d freed her of her stays, he stepped back. “Remove your chemise.”

She wasn’t sure she had the strength to lift the flimsy garment.

“Do it slowly. Tease me, Estelle. Reveal yourself to me in such a way that I can barely contain my excitement.”

Oh, heavens!

Not knowing how to tempt a man, all she could do was listen to the demands of her body, embrace the fierce passion flaming within. She closed her eyes briefly and let lust take her.

“Do you want me, Ross?” she whispered, reaching up and removing the pins from her hair. Raven black locks tumbled down over her shoulders.

“Good God, I want you so badly, I’m struggling to stand.”

His reply bolstered her confidence.

She skimmed her hands down the front of her chemise intending to reach for the hem. But her aching nipples relished the light brushing, and so she cupped her breasts and fondled them as she wanted him to do.

Ross blinked, gulped, his breathing grew heavy, and she found she rather liked playing the temptress.

“Minx,” he said.

Excited by his response, she ran her hands over her hips, dared to venture to the intimate place that throbbed for his touch. When her fingers skimmed down between the apex of her thighs, a pleasurable moan left her lips.

His hard shaft jerked in response, and he took himself in hand and stroked back and forth as if it eased the pressure building inside. Gripping the hem, she slid the material up inch by inch, aware that he was biting down on his bottom lip, that a hum resonated in his throat when she exposed her breasts.

“I knew you would be beyond beautiful,” he said, his heated gaze devouring every inch of her body as she dropped her chemise on the floor. “I cannot tell you how many times I have imagined it in my mind. But still you take my breath away.”

“I too have thought of you many times. I have stared out at sea and dreamed that a wave would come and scoop me up and carry me back home to you.”

He closed the gap between them, bent his head and kissed the brown birthmark he’d last looked upon with disdain. “You are home now. This is where you are supposed to be.” His arm snaked around her back as his tongue traced the outline of her nipple, teasing her, tempting her.

She pushed her hands into his hair, inhaled the intoxicating scent of bergamot, of something unique, totally masculine. “Tell me how it would have been on our wedding night.”

He straightened and looked at her, his blue eyes sparkling. “I would have been gentle and tender. I would have taken you slowly, stared into your eyes as I filled your body. I would have given you everything of myself, held nothing in reserve.”

Oh, it sounded so perfect. “Will you not do so now?”

He kissed her, a slow melding of mouths that tugged at the muscles deep in her core. Their tongues danced in a sensual, erotic rhythm. The taste of him fed her addiction, soothed her soul.

“I will do whatever you ask,” he said, breaking contact. “But you must answer one question first.”

She had nothing to fear anymore. This man made her feel strong and invincible. “Ask me anything.”

“Do you love me, Estelle?”

The directness of his question made her catch her breath.

“I am not speaking of how you felt years ago,” he continued. “Or how you felt while living in that hellhole in France. I am speaking about how you feel now. Here. In this moment.”

She did not have to examine her thoughts. The answer lived within in her. Indeed, she heard it before he asked the question. “I have loved you for as long as I can remember. Yes, I love you now as much as I did then.”

One corner of his mouth turned up into a wicked smile. He took her hand, pulled the coverlet back to the end of the bed and gestured for her to lie down.

She sank down into the mattress, gloried in the sight of him rising above her. He lavished her body with tender kisses, tasted her intimately in a place she never imagined he would. His actions were slow, yet she could feel an intense passion barely contained.

He did not bring her to that glorious place where she cried out his name and shuddered in his arms, but it was not far away. Indeed, the feel of him entering her body, of him pushing deep, sent a pleasurable shiver racing to her toes.

Ross cupped her face and kissed her as he withdrew and entered her again.

“Oh, Lord,” she panted for the sensation was beyond anything she had experienced before. It was beautiful, highly arousing. Heavenly. “Do it again.”

Their eyes locked and the power of it touched her soul. “With pleasure.”

He closed his eyes on the next deep, measured thrust. A groan left his lips.

“Give yourself over to me, Ross.” She wrapped her legs more firmly around his waist as he rocked in and out of her.

“Do you like the feel of me inside you?” he breathed before moving to kiss her lips, her chin, to suck her lobe. “Do you like it when I fill you full?”

“Like it? It’s divine.”

Her words brought a slight shift in energy, he quickened the pace, angled his hips in such a way that he rubbed against the intimate place begging for release.

“Oh, Ross,” she gasped as the bed creaked and he drove harder.

“I need to withdraw soon.”

“Don’t.” The foolish word left her lips unwittingly, for common sense played no part in it.

He stopped and looked at her, his eyes heavy with desire. “If I don’t withdraw, you know what that means should there be a child?”

Oh, she knew. Nothing in this world would make her happier. “I know.”

He pushed inside her again. “Then you will swear it before God.”

She didn’t know if he meant to marry her or make her his mistress. “What am I to swear to?”

“That you will marry me. What else?”

“I swear.”

He plunged inside her. Four strokes and they were both hovering on the brink of their release. Her body exploded first, and then he stilled above her, flooding her with the essence of the man she loved, as he would have done on their wedding night. A guttural groan left his lips. They gasped each other’s names. She felt whole, blissfully happy. Surely nothing could come between them now. Surely nothing but happiness lay beyond this night.