An Affair in Winter (Seasons Book 1) (4 page)

She shivered despite herself. Of course he meant take her upstairs, but her errant, wicked mind conjured up other kinds of
taking
before she could stop herself. It must have reflected on her face, for his smile fell, and for a moment his gaze took on a heated quality that made her stomach flip and her legs squeeze together.

She rushed to her feet.

“Yes, yes, thank you,” she said, her words running together rather embarrassingly. “I would appreciate it.”

She hesitated a fraction of a moment before she took his offered arm. She’d touched him earlier in the night, in this exact manner. That moment had been burned into her body and now she knew him even better. Now she could recognize that she wanted him even though it was foolish and ridiculous and dangerous to feel thusly. Touching him now was going to affect her even more.

But she did it. She folded her fingers around his bicep with a shiver and forced herself to stare straight ahead as he guided her to the staircase. As they climbed up together, their bodies touching far too intimately thanks to the narrowness of the passageway, she desperately sought a topic of conversation to fill the heavy silence that had come down between them.

“I’m certain you’re looking forward to getting wherever you were going when you were waylaid,” she said, knowing she was chattering mindlessly but unable to stop it. “I was expected today and I’m sure they’ll be worried. This is my door.”

She motioned to the door they were approaching and he came to a stop before it. “
This
is your room?”

“Yes.” She looked at him, for his tone was hard to read. He was staring at the barrier without releasing her. “Why?”

“Mine is the next,” he said, pointing just a few steps down the hall.

Her body clenched against her will and she began to throb between her legs. Cursing her body, she took a long breath. “My. Isn’t that…funny?”

“Yes, funny,” he said, his voice suddenly rough.

She slid her hand from his arm and took a step away. She was trembling, he had to have felt it. And judging from the way his dark stare met hers, he knew exactly why. It seemed she was incapable of hiding her desire.

Chance was a funny thing. Here she was, trapped in this place, thrown into a stolen night with a devastatingly handsome man and now he was going to be separated from her by just a thin wall. She would not sleep well knowing that fact, that was clear.

“Well, good night,” she managed to choke out, turning away from him at last.

“Yes, good night,” he said, but didn’t move to leave. Apparently he was going to see that she got into her chamber safely. Which was gentlemanly of him, even if it felt the opposite as he stood behind her, watching her fumble with the door.

At last she got it open, but she was greeted with an unpleasant surprise. Instead of the warmth of a fire to welcome her, a blast of cold air burst from the dark room.

She recoiled from it with a gasp and he rushed to her side, touching her elbow.

“What is it?” he asked, even as he peered into the room.

The fire was cold and all the lamps in the room save one had died out. But by the faint light, the problem Rosalinde had encountered was clear. The rickety window where she had stood what seemed a lifetime ago had been broken when a branch from the tree outside cracked and fell into it. Glass and wood were spread halfway into her room, along with piles of snow on the soggy, worn carpet.

“Oh no!” she gasped, and stepped inside the chamber.

“Careful now,” he said as he followed her in. “There’s glass everywhere.”

“I watched that tree swinging around in the wind earlier,” she said with a shake of her head. “I actually thought it was pretty when it swung to the music of the storm.”

“Well, you’re lucky it wasn’t deadly,” he said, lifting the remaining lamp and holding it toward the bed. A heavy clump of the branch now rested in the middle of it and glass was strewn all over it.

She shuddered. “Yes, I suppose I was very lucky, indeed. But what can I do now?”

“It isn’t salvageable,” Mr. Gray said as he picked up a shard of glass, examined it and then tossed it aside. “Even if you could clean it up and block the hole, which you couldn’t, the bedclothes are soaked by the melting snow and you’d likely freeze.”

Panic lifted in her chest as she spun to face him. He was no longer looking at the damaged room, but at her. His gaze was penetrating but unreadable.

“Then what do I do?” she repeated. “Should I see if there’s another room at the inn?”

He shook his head slowly. “You heard the innkeeper tonight. He came by crowing about being at full capacity more than once. He only had a few rooms left before you arrived and a dozen or more came after you.”

She broke their gaze and stared at the floor as reality began to become clear. “You’re right. That was why so many were piling up in the great hall. They have taken over every available cushion and carpet. Damn.”

Tears swelled and she blinked so she wouldn’t let him see. But he did. Even in the dim light, his face tightened as he explored her face.

“Could you join your maid?” he asked. “It isn’t the most comfortable solution, but it would be far better than what you see here.”

She sighed. “My maid and my driver were married just a month ago. Despite her mercenary tendencies, it seems the innkeeper’s wife is also a romantic. She was kind enough to allow them to share what Gertrude described as a tiny little private room. And when she stopped by our table a couple of hours ago, she told me the rest of the servant quarters are unbearably full. There is not an inch of bed or floor to be shared there.”

“I see.” There was a long hesitation before he spoke again. “Then there is only one alternative, Mrs. Wilde.”

She swallowed hard, trying to focus over the pounding of her heart. “And what is that?”

He took a step toward her, his body filling up the space between them, warming her in the chilly room. “Come to
my
room. Stay with me tonight.”

The words had been said. Gray couldn’t take them back. He didn’t want to take them back, though he knew he should. Mrs. Wilde’s cheeks filled with high color, her breath grew short, and in the dim light of the remaining lantern, her pupils dilated.

It was undeniable that his request was welcomed. Damn. It would be easier if she would set him down with a solid slap that he so richly deserved. Perhaps it would snap him out of this fog of need that clouded every judgment.

“I—” she began, then swallowed a few times, searching for breath. “I—but—I…what?”

“You must see there is little choice. You cannot stay here and there is nowhere else for either of us to go in this situation.” He drew in a long breath. “I would depart the room before dawn, before your maid came. You could tell her I surrendered the room to you. No one would be the wiser.”

She lifted her stare to his and he was lost in cerulean blue, the color of faraway oceans and unreal fantasy. He wanted so badly to kiss her in that moment, to drag her against him and make some part of her his, even though he knew it wouldn’t last.

“We don’t know each other,” she whispered. “Not even our first names.”

He shrugged. “In this case, perhaps that is best.” He edged closer again. The distance between them was almost gone now, and yet she didn’t step away. She just shivered and he knew from her expression that it had nothing to do with the cold. “If it helps, I would not touch you. Unless you wanted me to do so.”

Her eyes widened and that dratted pink tongue darted out again to wet those full lips. She was testing him. Trying to make him a liar.

“Come.”

He held out a hand and she lifted her own, almost in a daze, to take it. She had taken his arm twice tonight and each time had sent a thrill through him. But this was the first time that bare skin met bare skin. Electricity seemed to flow between them as their fingers tangled.

He drew her from the room and shut the door, then took her to the next in the hallway. He opened it wide and ushered her in, leaning against the barrier once he’d closed it to allow her to explore his chamber.

He knew what she saw. It was small, just as her room had been small. In fact, the bedrooms were almost identical, with just a bare table near the window and a bed wide enough for two. There was nowhere else to go or hide here. If she stayed, there would be intimacy to it, even if he never so much as grazed her cheek with his fingers.

She turned slowly and met his stare. Her hands were shaking, as was her voice when she said, “It seems I have no choice, Mr. Gray. Thank you for your kind offer to let me stay here. I’ll—I’ll take it.” She shifted a moment and then clasped her hands before her stomach. “What did you mean when you said you wouldn’t touch me unless I wanted it?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. And there it was. Temptation embodied and unavoidable, forcing his hand. He would give in to it now. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to do otherwise, not when she was standing in the middle of his chamber, her expression telling him exactly what she wanted. What she
needed
, even though she was afraid and uncertain.

And it was the same need that coursed through his veins.

“We have spent several hours together,” he said. “And I know you’re clever. You must have sensed how attracted to you I am.”

Her eyes widened and her voice cracked when she asked, “Yes?”

He folded his arms, mostly to keep himself from reaching for her. “Don’t pretend you are naïve. It doesn’t suit you. I felt your attraction to me, as well.”

She blushed. “You are immodest.”

“No. I am honest. In this case, I think I must be, for we only have tonight. Do you deny what I’ve said?”

She bent her head and he could see her struggling. She was a lady and expressing her desire wouldn’t come naturally to her. She’d been taught to deny it, she’d probably been shamed for feeling it. She would have been told to avoid it at all costs unless it was in her marital bed, and perhaps not even there. He waited, although he wouldn’t say patiently, for her to decide how to answer.

“I suppose I cannot deny what you already know is true,” she finally whispered, and her shoulders were trembling.

He took a step toward her at last, and she leaned in before she caught herself and straightened.

“Let me be clear,” he said. “I am in no way suggesting anything more than a night to explore that attraction between us. After all, it seems the stars have aligned to bring us together.”

“The stars?”

“Fate,” he clarified. “There was a storm that never should have been which stranded us both at a tavern in the middle of nowhere. We were forced to break bread together by the crowded hall. And now your damaged room has brought us here.
Fate
seems to want us to be together.”

“I wouldn’t think a man like you would put much stock in fate,” she said softly.

He smiled slightly. “In this case, how can I deny it when it is offering me such a delectable prize? This is one night where we can give in to fate without consequences. Without censure or judgment. What do you say?”

Everything wicked in Rosalinde screamed at her to do exactly as Mr. Gray suggested. No one would ever know, no one would see, with the right precautions, no one could possibly be hurt. Afterward, she would never even see him again.

But could she do something so daring? So foolhardy? So wanton? She could all but hear her grandfather’s angry voice as the reply to those questions, calling her a whore like her mother.

“You’re uncertain,” Mr. Gray said, his low voice hypnotic. He moved toward her once more, and then he was practically pressed against her. He was all heat and heaven and want and
man
. “Let me try to persuade you.”

He leaned in and Rosalinde caught her breath just as his lips brushed hers. It was a soft kiss at first, just a gentle exploration, but as the seconds ticked by it grew harder, more purposeful and infinitely more passionate. She lifted onto the balls of her feet, letting her hands rest on his forearms, then his shoulders. His arms came around her, tucking her in closer, his mouth grinding against hers and his tongue gently tracing the crease of her lips.