Page 41 of Love with a Notorious Rake

“I think of you. It has only ever been…you.”

Those words sliced his heart in two. In the next breath, Cristyn cried out with her release; her inner muscles clamped down on his fingers as she shuddered. Resting her head on his shoulder, Cristyn struggled to catch her breath. As did he. He was close to coming himself, ready to spill into his trousers like a callow schoolboy.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. Aidan held her close, her heart beating as rapidly as his. If only they could stay like this.

They remained motionless while their breathing regulated. He was still hard, and yearned for more. But he willed his arousal to deflate, at least somewhat. Cristyn lifted her head and glanced toward the window. She stood upright, smoothing her skirt into place. “The sun is all but set. I must go. I only intended to stay a few minutes.”

“Allow me to escort you.”

“I can find my own way.”

“We’re still to act as strangers after the intimacy we have shared? How do you propose we do that, exactly?”

“Everything is complicated. What happened between us only makes it worse. I need time to think.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “And I do not regret what happened, Aidan, but surely you must see we cannot be alone together again. At least until we are done in Earl Shilton.”

Damn it all! No, he did not see it—nor did he wish to. Not when he wanted to strip each layer of sensible clothes from her lush body and taste, lick, and nibble every part of her skin. And that would only be the beginning. “I’ll not argue the point. But I will follow you at a distance until you are safely at your residence. When we are out in the hall, go down the stairs at a normal pace, and head out the front door. I will slip through the rear entrance and follow. Where is it you’re staying?”

Cristyn opened her reticule, took out her gloves, and slipped them on. “I suppose it doesn’t matter if you know. I’m renting a room on Church Street.”

“Then let us depart.”

Cristyn hesitated at the door. “Aidan?”

“Yes?”

“What about you? I found release, but you…”

He lifted her chin in order for their gazes to meet. “What you confessed, about nearly every night? I do the same. I will find my release when I return.” He cupped her cheek, the pad of his thumb slowly caressing the warm softness. “It is you, Cristyn. Since we’ve met, I only think of you.” He groaned. “We had best leave, or I will lose all control.”

Her lovely eyes glistened. “I’m not sure I’m strong enough to stay away from you, regardless of what I proclaim,” she whispered.

Her candor humbled him, a sensation he was not used to. Honestly, he felt the same, but dared not admit it aloud; he had revealed too many of his feelings as it was. He opened the door and glanced out into the hallway. “No one is about. Be as nonchalant as possible. Do not hurry, but don’t dally either.” He kissed her forehead. “Go.”

Cristyn slipped out into the hall. He waited. Two minutes. Three. Then he hurriedly descended the rear stairs and entered the yard. The men working on the landscaping had apparently finished and were no doubt nursing a pint in the tavern room. The sun was setting; it must have been well past eight. Walking at a brisk pace, he followed far enough behind Cristyn that she was in his line of sight without seeming as if he were following her. Watching her hips sway as she walked had him thinking of what had occurred in his room. She had allowed him to touch her. That brief intimacy overshadowed all his past assignations. Such silky skin, and—

Out from one of the alleys, a young lad dressed in rags ran toward Cristyn, pulling Aidan from his erotic daydream. The beggar pushed her to the ground, snatched her reticule, and vaulted away. Red fury clouded his vision. He sprinted toward her, and was about to follow the boy when Cristyn called out, “No, Aid—I mean, no, sir! Don’t chase after him!”

A crowd had congregated around them. None of the citizens bothered to pursue the boy. It was clever of Cristyn to recover quickly and act as if they were unknown to each other.

He held out his hand. “Are you all right, miss?”

She slipped her hand in his and he assisted her to stand. “I am fine. Thank you for coming to my aid, sir.” His admiration for her grew. “There was nothing of value—a few hairpins and a lace handkerchief. If the poor boy can fetch a few pennies for the items, he’s welcome to them.”

“How magnanimous of you, Miss…?”

“Bevan.”

“I am Aidan Black.”

Yes, there was no escaping their acquaintance now, considering how public this was. It would be the tittle-tattle of the village by morning. Aidan scanned the crowd. “The show is over,” he bellowed. “Off with you.” A few people sauntered away, but most stayed. “Get out of here, you cowards!” Aidan thundered. “Not one of you bloody bastards came to this young lady’s aid!” Grumbling, the crowd moved off. Some of the men, a few he recognized from the mill, gave him a dirty look.

Aidan turned his attention to Cristyn. “Are you sure you’re uninjured?” he whispered.

“Just my pride. I thought Mrs. Trubshaw, my landlady, exaggerated the possible danger in the streets. It appears not.”

“Take my arm and I will escort you home. My coming to your rescue will undermine my authority at the mill.”

She slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow and they started walking toward Church Street. “How?”