Page 62 of An Unexpected Earl

The water splashed gently in the basin, and Pearce envisioned Amelia reaching her arms into the air over her head, rubbing the sponge over her bare skin, droplets of water trickling down her body…Sweet Lucifer.

He cleared his suddenly tight throat, yet his voice still emerged as a raw rasp. “That’s why you were looking for him at the masquerade.” That was it—keep her talking, and keep his mind off how desirable she was. “What were you hoping to gain from him?”

“A chance to convince him of Freddie’s innocence, without anyone knowing.”

More soft splashes of water, more rustling movements behind him… He shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t only his throat that had grown tight. “Good. Because I’d hate to think you were planning something foolish.” Madame Noir’s words rushed back to him. “Like getting involved with the blackmailer yourself.”

The water stilled.

Damnation.Madame hadn’t lied. But he wished to hell she had.

“Only as a last resort,” she admitted. “If everything else failed and Freddie was exposed.”

At least she was being honest with him. Even if the thought of her becoming any more involved terrified the daylights out of him.

“But it didn’t work. I still don’t know Sir Charles’s connection to the blackmailer.” A thoughtful pause in the splashing. “Theremustbe one, though. The man’s in charge of the Committee of Privileges and can bring censure if laws and standards are broken, yet he would never entertain a charge against a fellow MP unless he implicitly trusted whoever made it. He wouldn’t risk being made a fool of.”

“It could be anyone in Parliament,” he countered.

“Or any of Freddie’s cronies,” she added, defeat sounding in her voice. “The list is too long to consider.”

The soft splashing continued then, followed by more rustling of fabric. He imagined how she must have looked, rubbing the towel over her body while she dried herself, and damn his gentleman’s honor that he couldn’t sneak even a single glance over his shoulder.

“Fortunately, Freddie only has three men left to place. But if he doesn’t, he’ll be exposed. He’ll lose his seat in Parliament, perhaps even be sentenced to prison. I can’t let that happen.”

“He’s fortunate to have your kindness.” What Pearce wanted to do was pummel the bastard for putting her life in danger.

“It isn’t kindness,” she admitted with chagrin. “If his life is destroyed, so is mine. So are the lives of the women working at the Boutique.”

More kind than she was willing to admit, based upon her answer. He knew no other society miss who would be willing to go to such lengths to help a handful of war widows.

“I owe Frederick everything.” She came up behind him, close enough that her nearness sparked awareness of her across his back. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll let him destroy all I’ve worked so hard to create.”

Slowly, he turned to face her.

She was once again in her shift, with the blanket now secured around her like a toga. Yet she was still bare enough to stir his desire. Which wasn’t helped by the way she lifted her damp hair from her neck and shoulders, revealing the creamy smoothness of her skin as she twisted her tresses to put up her hair.

The sight of her mesmerized him. He’d watched countless women fuss with their hair. Some after they’d just left his bed, in fact. But never had the sight struck him with such visceral force as it did now, with such a fierce reminder that private, innocent moments like this still connected them. And always would.

Holding the hair pins between her lips, she twisted her damp hair into a chignon and attempted to pin it into place. She turned her lithe body this way and that, and he smiled at her antics, as if turning herself could magically make her hair do the same. But the uncooperative locks kept slipping free.

He took the pins from her, then gently turned her around. “Let me.”

Her lips parted in surprise, but she obliged and didn’t fight him when he carefully took her hair in his hands and loosely twisted it. Even though it was damp, her locks still slipped over his fingers like silk, and he resisted the urge to say to hell with the pins and shove his hands deep into its softness, to let the golden tresses fill his palms.

“You don’t have to do that.” A grudging acquiescence edged her voice that she needed his help. They’d broken down walls tonight, but they were still a long way from the trust they’d once shared. A trust he very much wanted back.

“I don’t mind.” No, he was grateful for any excuse to touch her, even this innocently. “Now that my stint in the army’s over, I’ve been considering a second career,” he admitted thoughtfully. “Something decidedly more dangerous.”

“Home office agent?”

“Lady’s maid,” he said deadpan.

A mischievous smile pulled at her lips. “Well, youaresurprisingly good at pinning up a woman’s hair.”

He lowered his mouth to her ear and drawled rakishly, “I’m even better at taking it down.” Then he punctuated that exaggerated flirtation with a stolen kiss to her nape.Anyexcuse to touch her.

She laughed, killing whatever seduction he might have started. He would have considered that laugh as a prick to his male pride, if not for enjoying the lilting sound of it so much.