The click of the latch caused Clara to look up from her book, and as the door swung open, she gave a startled gasp and bolted out of bed, only to freeze, riveted, at the sight of Rex coming into her room.

Her bedroom.

He put a finger to his lips and stepped further into her room, closing the door behind him. When he faced her again, she realized his hair was damp and he was only partially dressed, as if he’d just come from his bath, and she stared in shock at the vee of his bare chest, visible between the edges of his smoking jacket. She’d never seen a man’s bare chest before.

Heat unfurled in her belly.

He started toward her, and she took an involuntary step back, her legs hitting the bed behind her.

He stopped.

“Rex?” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he looked down, and as his gaze slid over her body, Clara’s question was answered.

The heat inside her deepened and spread.

His roaming gaze stopped at her feet, and she curled her toes, tucking them under the hem of her nightgown. “Rex, you shouldn’t be here.”

“I know.”

At that soft admission, the heat inside her flared into a sudden, violent surge of anger. She strode across the room toward him. “You were barely civil to me when I arrived,” she reminded in a fierce whisper as she stopped in front of him.

He stirred. “It caught me off guard, seeing you here. I didn’t expect it. No one told me you were coming.”

“So, shock was the reason you looked at me as if you wanted me banished to perdition? And why you’ve been avoiding me ever since I arrived, and why you’ve treated me as if I have plague?”

“I’ve been trying to keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?”

He looked up, his eyes like blue flame. “From me.”

She sucked in her breath, that simple answer and the desire in his eyes robbing her of anger, leaving only heat.

“If you want me to go,” he said, his voice a low, harsh rasp, “say so.”

She should. Of course she should.

She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Of all the times for her tongue to fail her, this shouldn’t be one of them, but after what had happened between them that extraordinary night in her office, after his scorching kisses and caresses, notions of propriety seemed absurd. Worse, far worse, she didn’t want him to go. She wanted all those scorching kisses again. She didn’t speak.

Slowly, he moved, easing closer, and with every fraction of an inch he bent his head, her heartbeat quickened. By the time his lips brushed hers, her heart was racing.

“You know what it means, Clara, if I stay?”

She knew. He would lie with her. It was risk. It could be ruin. And yet, with the light brush of his lips, she ceased to care. She nodded. “Yes.”

With a suddenness that took her breath away, his arms were around her and his mouth was taking hers in a lush, openmouthed kiss.

And she relished it—relished all the scorching intimacy of it, tasting him as deeply as he tasted her. His arms around her, so strong. His body, so much larger than hers and so, so different. His mouth and his taste, familiar to her now. She melded against him, and moved to wrap her arms around his neck, but to her astonishment, he stopped her, his hands encircled her wrists.

She made a sound of protest against his mouth, but he ignored it, pulling her wrists down as he broke the kiss. “I’ve got to slow things down,” he told her, but even as he spoke, he was reaching for the ties of her robe. “I don’t want to ruin it for you by going too fast.”

“Whatever you do will be wonderful.”

He gave a laugh low in his throat. “I wish I shared your confidence,” he muttered. “Just remember, we’ll have to be very quiet. The rooms on both sides of you are occupied.”

He pulled at the edges of her robe and slid the garment from her shoulders. Then, to her astonishment, he took up the end of her braid, and with a tug, he untied the ribbon and began unraveling the plait.

“There now,” he murmured after a moment, spreading the long curly locks of her hair around her shoulders. “I’ve been wanting to do that almost from the moment we met.”

“What?” Clara blinked, staring up at him. “On the dance floor, you were thinking of unbraiding my hair?”

“I was. I wanted to take it down, see it fall, run my fingers through it.”

“Goodness.” It was a faint sound to her ears, barely audible.

His palm glided along her cheek, and then, he raked his hand through her hair, and with a fistful of it in his grasp, he tilted her head back and kissed her again, a long, lush kiss, more tender this time, but still hot enough to burn her everywhere. “And that,” he said, pulling back a little. “I was thinking about doing that, too.”

“I knew about that part,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath. “You told me as much.”

He chuckled, disentangling his fingers from her hair. “So I did. I’m such a scapegrace.”

He lifted his hands to her collar, and Clara felt a thrill of anticipation and a throb of fear as he unfastened the top button of her nightgown. He worked his way down, and the tension within her grew with each one that came undone. By the time he reached her navel, she was shaking inside, and when he pulled the garment off her shoulders, down her arms, and over her hips, then shoved it down to her ankles, she gasped at the sensation of cool air on her skin, for her body ached and burned with heat.

Abruptly, he stopped. He leaned back, his lashes lowered as he slanted a glance down over her, and she appreciated, too late, that she was completely naked. All the thrills died at once, and she wanted desperately to hide.

He wouldn’t let her. “No, no,” he murmured, catching her hands before she could think to cover herself. “I’ve been imagining this for a long time, Clara,” he whispered, spreading her arms wide even as she resisted. “Don’t deny me this.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, arms outstretched, his hands clasping hers, her body fully exposed. “Since you’ve already done it.”

He chuckled. Then his laughter faded away, and she knew he was looking at her body. Even with a corset, she didn’t have much in the way of curves, and without one, she knew her shape was more reminiscent of a stick than an hourglass. She endured his gaze, but she couldn’t look at him. Instead, she stared into his chin as he looked his fill, her tension growing. He was silent so long she could only fear the worst.

“You’re lovely,” he said, and then, to her utter amazement, he sank down to his knees in front of her. “Even more lovely than I’d imagined.” He laughed softly, his hand gliding up her hip and over her ribs. “Given how vivid my imaginings of you have been, that’s saying a lot.”

She did look at him then. She couldn’t resist, and when she saw his face, saw the hunger in his expression as he stared at her naked body, her relief was so profound, she almost sank to her knees, too.

He lifted his hand and cupped her breast in his palm, and her relief dissolved into a jolt of pleasure so strong, she gasped. The feel of his palm against the bare skin of her breast was exquisite, and when he took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger to gently toy with it, she couldn’t help a soft moan.

“Ssh,” he admonished, then he kissed her there, a sensation so sharp, so exquisite that she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. And when his mouth opened over her nipple, her knees gave way beneath her. He caught her before she fell, his arm wrapping tight around her hips, as his mouth suckled her breast.

She stirred against him, for what he was doing made her want desperately to move, but he wouldn’t let her. His arm tightened around her hips, pinning her to his body, a queer sort of bondage that only seemed to enhance the pleasure he was evoking with his mouth.

As last, she could take no more. “Rex,” she gasped, raking her hand through his hair, pulling his head back.

He relented, easing away, reaching for her hands, pulling her down to join him, and as she sank to her knees in front of him, he shrugged out of his smoking jacket.

He moved to kiss her, but Clara stopped him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his breathing uneven.

“Nothing. I just—” She stopped, her gaze lowering to his chest. “I think it’s my turn to look.”

He laughed low in his throat. “Fair enough. Look your fill.”

She did, her gaze roaming over his wide chest and powerful arms, and as he watched her, he realized that looking at him pleased and aroused her, and for the first time in his life, Rex was grateful for the good looks he’d inherited from his mother.

When she lifted her hands to his chest and touched him, he bore the sweet agony of it. But when her gaze slid to his trousers and her hands followed, he shook his head and pushed her hands gently away. “A man can only take so much torture,” he told her. “If you start undressing me, I’ll go to bits and our evening will be over far too soon.”

“But you got to undress me,” she protested.

“That’s different.” He kissed her to stifle any further discussion on the subject, then he eased her down onto the carpet.

That didn’t seem to please her, for at once, she wriggled, making a face. “It’s itchy. Can’t we lay on the bed?” she whispered.

He shook his head. “Iron beds make too much noise.”

“Oh.” She blushed as she realized why, and it made him laugh. Never in his life would he have thought sweetness like hers would be addicting, but he craved it now, as if it were a drug.

“Really, Rex, I don’t understand the things you think are funny.”

“I know.” He kissed her. “I know.”

Straightening, he reached for his smoking jacket. “Here,” he said, spreading it out. “Lay on this.”

She complied, and the sight of her stretched out naked on top of his jacket was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. He ran his gaze over her sweet, round breasts, her slim waist and hips and her long, long legs, coming at last to the soft brown curls at the apex of her thighs. He wanted her so badly, it was making him dizzy, but he had to bank his own need just a little bit longer, for her first time was going to be the most beautiful, romantic experience he could make it.

Not that he quite knew what he was doing there, he realized, a thought that almost made him laugh. All the women he’d had, and yet, that sort of experience did him no good with Clara. He’d never made love to a virgin before, and he hadn’t been this intimidated by the act of love since he was an adolescent.

He took a profound, shaky breath, then eased down beside her. His weight on his forearm, he spread his hand over her stomach.

She responded to his touch at once, a low moan in her throat as her hips arched. He smiled at that. She was so delicate, and yet, the passion inside her was titanic. Nonetheless, when he eased closer and his erection pressed against her thigh, she shied away a little, opening her eyes.

“Rex?”

“It’s all right,” he promised. “Trust me.”

He kissed her, slow, deep kisses, as her body slowly relaxed. Still kissing her, he slid his hand to her breast, shaping it, toying with her for a bit, then he bent to take her nipple into his mouth. She moaned again, and earned herself another admonition to be quiet, and when she lifted her arm, pressing her wrist over her mouth, he smiled.

Still suckling her, he slid his palm down her ribs, across her stomach, and between her thighs to touch the soft triangle of her curls. She gasped, her legs squeezed convulsively around his hand, her hips working as he caressed her.

She was wet, ready, and yet he waited, stroked her much as he had that night on her desk, gliding his finger back and forth along the crease of her sex, watching her face as her eyes closed. Her arm fell to her side, her breathing quick, her hips working against his hand.

“Remember this?” he whispered. “Remember the last time I did this?”

“That’s not—” She paused, panting, hips working. “That’s not something a girl’s likely to forget.”

He laughed, a chortle that he quickly snuffed. She said the most unexpected things.

Clara heard his laugh, but as usual, she didn’t understand it, and right now, she was too overwhelmed to care about figuring it out. Each stroke of his finger was sending a throb of pleasure through her body, until she couldn’t bear it, and shattered apart, just like before, a sob of ecstasy tearing from her.

He caught the sound in his mouth, kissing her, his fingers continuing to pleasure her, even as she collapsed, panting, against the carpet.

“Clara, it’s time.” His voice was harsher that she’d ever heard it before, vibrating with need she instinctively understood. “I can’t wait any more.”

She nodded, letting him know she felt the same, that she was ready for what she only vaguely knew was about to happen, but then he withdrew his hand and rolled away from her. Surprised, she opened her eyes and turned her head, watching him as he unbuttoned his trousers, and pulled them off.

She slid her gaze down his body for her first glimpse of what she’d wanted to see earlier, but the sight was sufficiently shocking that she stared, aghast, sudden trepidation vanquishing any curiosity she might have felt.

“Rex?”

He came over her at once, and beneath him, she squeezed her eyes shut. With his body, solid and heavy on top of her, and the hard, swollen part of him pressed between her legs she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to continue.

He sensed what she felt. He must have, for he stilled, and she felt his hand cup her face. “Clara, look at me.”

She forced herself to open her eyes.

His seemed vividly blue even in the lamplight, and his voice when he spoke was strained with need. “This part is probably going to hurt you. There’s no way to avoid that, I’m sorry to say.” He paused and kissed her. “I’ll be as gentle as I can. All right?”

She nodded, and sucked in a breath. “Yes. All right.”

She felt his hand ease between their bodies, moving to push her thighs apart. “Open for me, sweetheart.”

She did, spreading her legs apart, and at once she felt him against her, hard and scorching hot. When he moved, the friction was luscious, and her earlier excitement came flooding back as the tip of his hardness pressed against her and into her.

“My God, my God,” he groaned against her neck. And then, his hips surged, and his hardness was fully within her.

The pain was even more acute than she’d expected, a deep, hard, bruising pinch that blotted out any pleasure she’d been feeling. She cried out, but he smothered it, kissing her as his body stilled on top of her.

He kissed her, a long, deep, tender kiss. Then he lifted his head. “Are you all right?”

His voice was so strangled, the words were barely understandable, telling her the strain he was under. She stirred, wriggling her hips, but the pain, thankfully, was easing. “Yes.” She nodded. “I think so, yes.”

He kissed her again, and then, he began to move within her. It hurt still, a little, but there was pleasure, too—pleasure in the hard, thick fullness of him inside her and the way he moved, and she tried to move with him.

Her efforts quickened his pace, and each time he thrust into her, it was a little harder, a little deeper, but that was all right, for her pleasure was deepening, too.

Then, without warning, the explosive sensation she’d only felt from his touch before roared up inside her, a violent, beautiful jolt that sent spasms of pleasure through her whole body. She wrapped her legs around him, her body clenching him tight, again and again.

He made a rough sound against her mouth. His arms slid beneath her back, as if he wanted to be even closer to her. Locked in this embrace, she relished it as he thrust into her again, then again, and yet again, and then, shudders rocked his body, and she knew he was feeling the same exquisite pleasure in this coupling that she’d just experienced. Three more times, he thrust into her, and then, his weight of his body settled over her. His arms still tight around her, his breathing hard and labored, he turned his head, burying his face against her neck.

Dazed, Clara stared up at the ceiling, her hands caressing the smooth, hard muscles of his back. The pain was gone now, and with his strong body heavy and solid on top of hers, part of him still joined with her, and his arms around her so strong and tight, all she felt was a sweet, singing joy and an overwhelming tenderness.

He stirred on top of her. “Does it still hurt?” he asked, pressing a kiss to her throat. “Tell me.”

She shook her head. “No. Oh, no.”

“Good.” He kissed her mouth, then he stirred again, as if to roll away, but she tightened her legs around him, reluctant to let him go.

Smiling, he lifted himself far enough to look into her face. “I’d love to stay,” he murmured, “but I can’t. I have to be back in my own room before the maids wake up.”

She nodded, knowing he was right. Her legs relaxed, opened, and he lifted his hips, slipping free of her. She grimaced, appreciating that she was still sore, more so than she’d realized. She was also sweaty and sticky, especially in her most intimate place. Lovemaking wasn’t quite as romantic afterward.

He stood up, and held out his hand to pull her to her feet as well, then he paused, smiling, his gaze drifting down over her naked body, a look that made her feel terribly shy and flustered, but pretty, too, and she changed her mind. Even afterward, there was romance in the act of love.

“Why are you smiling?” she asked, but she knew. She touched a hand to her hair, her blush deepening.

“You look delicious,” he said.

“Do I?” She gave him a wry, sideways smile. “Like shortbread, I suppose?”

“Yes, thank God.” He kissed her. “Because I adore shortbread.”

He turned away to find his clothes, and she tilted her head, studying his body, appreciating the view. He had such splendid shoulders. And also, she realized as he bent to reach for his discarded trousers, a very splendid bum.

He turned back around and caught her watching him. She tried to paste on an innocent, lamb-like stare, but he grinned, not the least bit fooled.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked and pulled on his trousers.

She made a face at him. “I was, until you put on those trousers and ruined it.”

He laughed softly as he reached down to retrieve his smoking jacket from the floor. He started to put it on, but then, he stopped, and for no reason she could think of, he bundled it into his hand instead. He went still, staring at it for a moment, then he pressed his lips together and lifted his head to look at her. His face was so grave, it startled her.

“Rex? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He smiled a little. “Try to get some sleep tonight, all right?”

Sleep? She stared at him in disbelief as he turned away to open the door. She couldn’t possibly fall sleep now. She’d never felt more awake, more alive in her entire life. She felt as if she could conquer the world. Did people truly fall asleep after such an extraordinary experience?

But before she could ask him that question, he was already gone.