Don’t think so much. Life is short, Lilly. This is a small pleasure.” His hand slipped around her waist, and he pulled her tighter against him.
It was impossible to argue with his statement, so she allowed the delight of another person’s touch lull her to sleep.
Chapter 3
A thunderclap shook Lillian awake before daylight.
Dorian’s arm slipped from under her breasts. He got up and the bed shifted.
She missed his touch, his warmth—him. Don’t be a fool. He’s just a man and a nobleman at that. There’s nothing for you in his arms.
Rain pounded on the inn’s roof. Lillian tossed back the covers and joined him at the window. She wore only a shift, and it would be sheer in the daylight.
“It’s going to be a rather long day,” he said.
“I suppose we must remain here at the inn. Bridges will be out, and many roads will be impassable.”
“Indeed.” He looked her up and down. A smile lit his eyes, and it was more than a little gratifying for her. “Whatever will we do with the day?”
She shook her head, but tingles awakened her most intimate places. “Perhaps we can find you a book to read. If not, you might be interested in one I procured from Lord Shafton’s library.”
“You stole a book from his lordship?”
“Borrowed.”
He tilted his head, and his eyebrows rose as he regarded her. “When do you intend to return it?”
“Just as soon as I am finished with it.”
“So you waltzed into the library at Brendaligh, perused the books, and took one?”
“Not exactly?”
“No?”
She walked to her trunk, opened it, and pulled the large, leather bound tomb out. “I stumbled upon this in an alternate library.”
He crossed to her and studied the title. “The World of the Dead.”
“It was the title that drew my attention, but when I saw the date the book was printed, and also that it had been written by a group of monks, I thought it might be helpful.”
Dorian took the book from her hand and opened to the first page with writing. “This is quite old, 1452. Most of this is in Latin.”
“Yes, much of it is in Latin, but there are some interesting notes hand written in the margin.”
“Do you read Latin?”
“No.”
He smiled. “Luckily, I do.”
Excitement bubbled in her stomach. Maybe he really did want to help her uncover the truth. “I thought you were just supposed to watch me and report back to Cullum?”
He shrugged. “I have not been forbidden to help you.”
“Why would you want to? What I intend may well get me tossed from The Company.”
His grin melted her from the inside out. “My reasons for helping are not very complicated.”
“If you think I will let you bed me for a few Latin translations, you are sadly mistaken. I can pay a clergy to read the damn book to me.”
“I already told you, that particular pleasure must be offered willingly and enthusiastically.”
She shrugged. “Men are men. None of you are very discerning when it comes to sexual congress.”
“Such a low opinion.” He sighed and handed her back the book. “I will ask no payment for helping you. It is raining, we cannot continue our journey, and so I will help with the Latin. Do not look for trouble where there is none, my lady.”
“Must I continue to remind you, I am no lady?” She hugged the book tight to her chest.
“I’m afraid so.”
He is infuriating. The strong temptation to whack him over the head with the damn book further frustrated her.
He laughed. “Where exactly did you find it?”
“As I said, the castle has an alternate library.”
“Where?”
“In the dungeon.”
“Locked?”
“Of course.”
“Yet you managed to enter and ‘borrow’ a book.”
“I have yet to meet the lock I could not conquer.” She pulled her shoulders back and stared him in the eye. No amount of censure could make her regret taking a book that might help her find a way to stop the demon invasion.
“That’s handy.”
“It has been from time to time.”
“Well, I suppose we better make use of the time we are trapped by the rain. We can go below stairs and break our fast, then return here for the day. As newlyweds, no one will think our reclusiveness odd. If you will give me a few moments, I will leave you to dress.”
Thoughts of how they might fill a rainy day if they truly were recently married made her cheeks warm. Blast. After a very feminine curtsy, she sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the book. Her attention should have been on seeing to her weapons or arranging her clothes, but she couldn’t help watching him pull his blouse off. He was beautifully muscled, and even the slight effort to splash water on his face and chest cause a remarkable effect.
Lillian longed to touch his bare back and shoulders. Where had that come from?
Mesmerized by the tracks of dripping water disappearing beneath the waist of his trousers, she shamelessly watched him wash and dress. She hummed with desire for this man, a stranger, and yet had slept the night in his arms. A lifetime of fear and fighting had disappeared within his embrace. Safe. Impossible safety had washed over her upon waking up with Dorian. Her skin heated. The sensations traveled to the apex of her thighs, and she squirmed before realizing he might notice her discomfort. She forced herself to sit still until he’d dried himself and put on a fresh shirt.
Dorian turned and met her gaze while he tied his cravat in a simple knot, pulled on his hessians, donned his waistcoat and tailcoat. “Can I do anything for you, Lilly?”
“No.” The one word came out strained and much higher than she’d intended.
He frowned, looking as uncomfortable as she felt. He gave his waistcoat a tug and turned from the room.
She stretched the ache in her back and looked out at the constant downpour. There was little point in trying to make their
