In all their dealings, he’d never acted controlling or overbearing. Yes, she employed him. But other business managers had tried manipulating her. Other business managers she’d utilized had gone to her husband to question her decisions.
Niles had not.
“You’re different in a good way,” he supplied.
The words warmed her even more than his body. She’d lived amongst the ton for most of her life but oftentimes felt like an imposter. Less feminine. Less respectable.
Just.
Less.
“Thank you.”
Perhaps she could drop her defenses with him because he was not one of them. Despite his demeanor and speech, he had never been a member of the upper class.
His manners and dress were impeccable. And, yes, his looks quite surpassed those of most younger men, let alone men his own age.
But he was not another nob seeking any means available to pay off his debts. Abhorrent as the notion was, she’d been protected by her marriage. Now a widow, in possession of considerable funds, she’d best be wary.
But not with Niles.
Her very own Mr. Waverly.
And then she caught herself. What on earth was she thinking? He wasn’t her Niles. Her Mr. Waverly. He was her man of business!
She stepped out of his warming embrace, wrapped her own arms around her front, and shivered again as a gust of wind swept through her.
Her gown was soaked, through and through. Even worse, the storm showed no signs of letting up. In fact, the sky looked even darker in the distance.
They’d found themselves in such dire straits due to her selfishness and impatience. As she berated herself, she was vaguely aware of Niles moving around behind her. He’d said nothing when she’d pushed herself away from him. Was he feeling the same fleeting, completely temporary attraction that she had?
There was, of course, the moment directly following the crash, when she’d felt him—
“Come sit down. It’s dryer back here.” How was it that he could speak such an edict without it sounding like either a command or an invitation? He was speaking to her in his man of business voice again.
She turned to find that he’d fashioned the bulk of his great coat into a small tent of sorts.
Eve could be stubborn or she could be warm.
Another shiver.
“Thank you.”
Making her way farther into the brush, she found the ground less soaked. The branches overhead were thicker, more tangled with each other. She dropped to her knees and then edged into the small shelter.
It would be cozier if he were sitting beside her. They could share one another’s warmth.
He remained standing, however, a few yards away from the shelter he’d built. He would not attempt to join her, she knew.
A flash of lightning and then more thunder.
Niles cursed. She didn’t think she’d heard him curse before. So contained. Throughout their acquaintance, until today that was, he’d always held himself removed, respectfully aloof, professional.
Was that why she’d not noticed him, as a man before?
Well, of course she’d known he was a man, but was that why she’d not noticed the solid width of his chest, the chiseled line of his jaw? The sensuality in his smoky gaze?
Not that any of it made any difference.
Her fingers fluttered to her chest. Try as she might, she most certainly was noticing him now.
“Niles.”
He paced away from her, toward the clearing.
“Niles.” She said his name louder this time. “Won’t you please come out of the rain? You’re no good to me if you fall ill.”
He glanced over his shoulder, meeting her eyes. “Damnit, but I ought to have insisted we delay travel. I ought to have considered—”
“Niles,” she cajoled with a gentle smile. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. Please, won’t you come and warm up? Then I will argue with you over who gets to take the blame for this debacle.”
He jammed his hands into his pockets and then reluctantly turned and did as she asked.
He was careful, she noted, to touch her as little as possible. As soon as he settled, she edged herself closer to him.
Strictly for warmth.
He stiffened at first, but then dropped an arm around her shoulder and relaxed slightly. She’d made matters awkward by pulling away from him earlier.
One question swarmed through her mind as she soaked up his heat.
What should she do now?
Chapter 6
Strictly for Warmth
* * *
Niles berated himself twice over for allowing this situation to deteriorate to its present conditions. The temperature had dropped, and their damp clothing clung to their bodies.
Furthermore, he could not deny he’d made her uncomfortable by talking to her, and touching her, in an overly familiar manner. Calling her Eve, even at her request, complicated the boundaries of what had been a circumspect relationship.
She’d revealed a great deal of herself to him today. He wouldn’t read anything into it. He’d simply been there when she needed to cry, and later as they hiked, to pass the time.
“I refuse to allow you to blame yourself for all of this.” She broke the silence between the two of them. “I absolutely demand my half of it, Niles, if not sixty percent.”
She was calling him Niles again.
“I thought the inn was closer,” he admitted. “And if you insist, I’ll allow you thirty-five percent, but no more than that.”
She chuckled and nuzzled closer.
He would not take advantage of their physical proximity. She must feel vulnerable, lost. As much as he’d like to run his hands along the length of her body, to steal a taste of her lips, he wouldn’t.
Even if she was now an unmarried woman.
Who, this very moment, trailed her fingers down the front of his shirt in the most intoxicating manner.
On a hiss, he reached up to stop her. “Mrs. Mossant.”
“Eve,” she corrected him.
“Eve…” But he did not push her hand away. Instead, he raised it to his lips. “You are not quite yourself today.”
“Perhaps you are right.” She sighed loudly. “Or perhaps I am more myself than I have been in a very long time.”
Holding her fingers against his mouth, he allowed himself to drop a single kiss there.
He’d not realized that he’d missed tenderness. Unwilling to break the connection between the two of them, Niles closed his eyes and…let his senses take over.
Instead of pushing them away.
For a moment. He’d allow himself this moment.
She moved her hand to explore his face; her fingers danced across his eyebrows and then her hand caressed his jaw and the skin along his ear. When she dropped her hand abruptly, he exhaled. Had he been holding his breath?
“I’m proving to be a nuisance, aren’t I, Niles? First, I weep on you for over an hour, then I nearly topple you down the hill, and now I’m making matters even more awkward. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable. You are right. I am not quite myself.” Even though her words registered, her body said more. She maintained her position in close concert with is body.
“You are not making me uncomfortable.” God help him. His own inclinations did quite well on their own. Just sitting beside her, sharing their warmth, tempted him.
“You don’t have to say that. I’ll allow I’ve relied on you inappropriately for most of this journey.” Her voice sounded throaty, most unlike the Mrs. Mossant he’d come to know in London. “You’re likely wishing me to perdition.” Her hand rested on his chest.
She was making this impossible for him.
“You are my employer, a woman all too recently widowed. It would be unfair, unethical of me...” He stared straight ahead and surveyed the clouds. The storm had picked up strength along with their own barrage of emotions.
“Oh, Niles. If you only knew.”
“If I only knew what?” He pressed.
She took a deep breath, as though for courage before answering. “How badly I need you to be unethical today.”
Steady, sultry eyes met his with unabashed need. Her cheeks were flushed and those lips of hers parted slightly.
Dammit.
He could resist his own need, but not hers.
She would require comfort now. She’d lost a husband, a horrible one at that, but a husband, nonetheless.
He needed to be certain. Niles leaned forward and paused. “If you wish.”
But she backed away an inch. “Don’t feel that you have to. I only thought—mmphh”
He cut off her speech demonstrating the requested absence of ethics.
At first her lips felt cool, cold even, pinched tight. How long, he wondered, since she’d been kissed?
“Open for me,” he mumbled against her. “Relax.”
She nodded, slipping away until he could capture her mouth again.
This time her lips parted softly beneath his. He lifted his hands to cup her cheeks, and then the back of her neck. Her tongue retreated at first but grew bolder to eventually dance and tangle with his as the kiss lengthened.
Oh, but he loved the essence of a woman, this woman. Her deliciously moist mouth tasted sweet, earthy, her teeth glided smoothly against his tongue.
A tremble flowed through her, whether from the cold or the kiss, he couldn’t be sure.
“Hold me,” she whispered.
He drew her closer, dropping his arms around her shoulders and then her waist.
How long the kiss went on, he wasn’t sure. It could have been a minute, or ten, or more even. He lost himself as he took inventory of her responses. A hitch, a moan, a gasp.
The way she spoke his name, half whisper, half groan.
Eventually he became aware of a quieting. The thunder had drifted away, and rain no longer pounded everything around them.
And their private tempest settled as well.
Niles placed one last kiss on now familiar lips and drew in a heavy breath. They were two consenting adults. But he would not take her on the ground, on the dirt.
If, and that was a very big if, he were to take her at all, it would be on a comfortable bed dressed in clean linens.
He tucked her head beneath his chin and waited while she steadied her own breathing.
“Your name fits you rather well.”
“Hmmm,” she mumbled into his shirt front.
“You tempt me, Eve. Now tell me, was that unethical enough for you?”
* * *
Eve struggled to comprehend his words.
So long. She’d waited so long for something so simple as a kiss. There had been days when she’d surmised, she’d live the remainder of her life untouched.
He’d reignited sensations she’d feared might be dead — Niles had — her man of business.
He’d asked her something. Was that unethical enough for you?
She managed to nod, her face pressed against his chest now.
“Thank you,” she whispered into his waistcoat.
“The storm’s passed. I’m afraid we must set out again. The mud will be worse than before, but we need to make the inn before darkness falls.” His voice sounded rather matter of fact. Obviously, the kiss had affected him far less than her.
His arms dropped away, and she stiffened. What was she doing? What had come over her? Most assuredly any kiss would have sent her thoughts into such a jumble. “Yes. Yes, of course.” She wished she could have risen to her feet gracefully.
But no. Not only was her dress jumbled around her legs, but pins and needles plagued her left foot.
Holding his side, Niles rose easily.
“Are you injured?” Had she done something to him, or had he injured himself earlier?
“It’s nothing.” He offered a hand to assist her up.
She rearranged her skirt and wiggled her toes before taking it. Once standing, she studied his eyes. “You would not be holding your side if it were nothing. You foolish man! Why didn’t you say something?”
A small injury could become serious all too quickly. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done until they arrived at the inn. Or any shelter, for that matter.
Without answering her question, he offered an arm and led them back toward the road.
“I don’t mean to call you a foolish man. I do that to my daughters, you know.” She couldn’t help explaining to him. “When they worry me.”
“You call your daughters foolish men?” He would make a joke of it. Who was she to worry about him?
“Foolish girls.” She ignored his teasing.
Mentioning her girls reminded her who she was. A mother. A mature woman, not some starry-eyed miss. That kiss back there… It meant nothing. A bit of comfort. Warmth. She was the foolish one, to have imagined for a minute that it might lead to anything else.
But now you are a widow.
Eve ignored the taunting voice in her mind.
And you haven’t been kissed in over a decade!
She pushed her shoulders back and stared into the distance.
The road was, indeed, more sludge than anything else. She’d thoroughly ruined her boots by now and doubted Lucy could repair her dress which was now frayed and muddied at the hem. Hopefully the traveling coach would pass through tomorrow.
Neither she nor Mr. Waverly spoke another word for what felt like hours, making slow but steady progress. And then, just when she couldn’t stand another second of his silence, a sign came into view.
Aged and worn, nonetheless, it directed them off the road toward The Pig and Goat Inn. Not too promising, but shelter. Water. Safety.
Greater relief than she’d imagined, swept through her. They would not be forced to spend the night in the outdoors after all. Each time they’d rounded a corner and come upon more open road, her worry had increased. Although doing his best to hide it, Niles was obviously in pain. She didn’t know what she’d do if he worsened.
She glanced at him in time to catch an expression of relief crossing his features, as well.
“I shall certainly sleep better than I did last night.” She broke the silence. Exhaustion would ensure the rest her body craved. She’d lain awake the night before thinking of Jean Luc. But now, after tumbling down the side of a mountain, his death didn’t seem quite the traumatic event that it had initially.
Was traumatic the proper word for his death? His life had been traumatic. Their marriage had been disappointing. His death was…
Final.
That’s what it was. Final. No more need to fear him. She’d stopped hoping he’d changed ages ago. But he was the father of her daughters and now he was dead.
They made their way around some brush, and the inn appeared by the side of the road. Simple, unadorned, nothing special about it at all, but it might as well have been heaven. Niles held the door wide so that she could precede him inside, and a few minutes later, he was handing her a key.
“Room number three. He’s sending his wife up in a few minutes with dry clothes for you to change into.” He spoke impassively, back to being Mr. Waverly. Disappointment bothered her.
Surely, he hadn’t forgotten? And exactly how pathetic was it that she’d thought of practically nothing else. Could she blame it on the rain? Shock from having her carriage go tumbling into a ravine?
“Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around her front. “About earlier—”
“Forgotten.” He shoved both hands into his pockets, answering her unspoken question.
Yes. Yes. That would be best, would it not? Put it behind them, as though the kiss never occurred?
“Has John been here?”
Niles grimaced. “Not yet. I imagine if the horses took off in another direction, they might have headed back toward London. But the innkeeper says t
hey have a gig we can rent. I’d prefer we allow the mud to dry, however, before continuing on.”
“Of course.” She glanced at the key in her hand. “What room are you in? That is, in case I have need of you.” Being with him and counting on him like no other made her feel like a young girl. Much as she’d first been with Jean Luc before…
With her man of business of all things!
“I’ll be in the tap room.” Again, his face impassive. His demeanor cool. Did he intentionally not want her to know which room he would be sleeping in? Or—
“You didn’t hire a room for yourself?”
“All full up, Mrs. Mossant.”
“Oh, don’t ‘Mrs. Mossant’ me.” Were all men this foolish? “And with you being hurt!”
“Eve—”
“Come with me. You need to rest. Did you think I didn’t realize your ribs have been paining you? Did you tell them who you were? Did you give them both of our names?”
“Just my own.”
“Well, then. They’ll have to imagine I am your wife or some such nonsense. You need a place to sleep and I need to not feel guilty for your injury. It’s not as though I’m some innocent intent upon protecting my virtue.” Eve would not sleep a wink knowing Niles was trying to sleep on a wooden bench for the night.
“I’ll find a cot.”
“Nonsense.” She grasped him by the arm and pushed him in the direction of the stairway.
He was surprisingly compliant. The pain must have worn him down more than he’d let on.
“Eve—” He made one last attempt to argue but seemed short of breath.
“Hush.”
Chapter 7
Sharing
* * *
As much as this new turn of events bothered him, Niles ceased resisting her after she’d removed his coat and then coaxed him onto the bed. His entire body ached. Not just his chest or his side. Every blasted breath he took pained him.
Damn ribs.
To Hell and Back: Regency Romance Novella (Devilish Debutantes Book 6) Page 4