warm. His neck and shoulders were stiff, but that didn’t bother him. She was no longer in pain, and he was grateful for it.
It had been a gruelling experience, one he didn’t care to repeat. He was unbearably alert, attuned to Hannah in a way he’d never expected. Against his chest, he could feel the rise and fall of her breathing.
There would be hellish consequences. And yet he wouldn’t have changed what he’d done. He’d rescued her from that bastard Belgrave and protected her innocence. She could go into her future marriage as an untouched bride, the way she should. That is, if he could get her home without anyone realising where she’d spent the last hour or two.
He had his doubts.
Michael watched her sleeping, the strands of hair twining around her throat and spilling over the curve of her breasts. Her beauty stole his breath away.
Innocence and purity. Everything he didn’t deserve.
From his pocket, he withdrew the strand of diamonds and fastened them around her throat. Bare skin peeped from the open back of her dress where he’d loosened her corset. He wanted to kiss her, to run his mouth over that silken skin. Like forbidden fruit, she tempted him to taste.
Only a few hours ago, he’d touched her back, indulging himself in a bit of wickedness. She’d allowed him liberties he never should have taken.
Not for you, his brain warned.
An honourable man would leave her alone to sleep, taking the reins and driving her home again. He wouldn’t run his palms over her arms, watching her skin tighten with gooseflesh. A good man would ignore the seductive glimpses of female skin and set his baser urges under control.
But he wasn’t good. He wasn’t honourable. Right now, he’d been given a few stolen moments with this woman. And he intended to take them.
Michael lowered his mouth to her shoulder blade, tracing the fragile skin up to her nape. Hannah shivered, lifting her face towards his as she awakened from sleep. He took possession of her softened mouth, not asking for permission.
Hannah awoke with her body temperature rising, as though she were suffering from a fever. The Lieutenant was kissing her, and she was sitting in his lap.
She couldn’t move from the shock of feelings coursing through her. No man had ever kissed her before, and she trembled beneath the onslaught. It was as though he were starving for her, his mouth hot and hungry.
His tongue slid inside her mouth, caressing her intimately. Hannah had never imagined such a thing, and desire poured through her, making her skin hotter.
Push him away. Beg for him to stop.
But her mind was disconnected from her body, once again. She felt herself arching towards him, needing to be closer. His hands slipped beneath the open back of her gown, and dimly she remembered the Lieutenant unlacing her, to help her breathe easier.
The touch of his bare hands on her skin made her cry out, ‘No! Stop, please.’
The remnants of her headache pressed into her, and tears spilled out. Not because of his unexpected kiss, but because of her guilt. He’d evoked shameful feelings inside of her, arousing her. And though she wanted to lay the blame at his feet, she knew in her heart that she couldn’t. She’d allowed him to kiss her, to touch her in ways that no good girl would allow.
‘I’m not going to apologise for that.’ His voice was low and deep, a man who had seized what he’d wanted. ‘You kissed me back.’
‘I didn’t want to.’
Liar. An aching throbbed within her womb. She felt damp, restless. The touch of his hard body against her pliant flesh was almost too much to bear.
‘Yes, you did.’ The the Lieutenant broke away, his breathing harsh. He moved to the opposite side of the carriage, resting his wrists on his knees. His head hung down, dark hair shadowing his face. He looked as though he’d been in a fist fight. ‘I need to drive you home.’
‘Please.’ She tried to hold the back of her gown together, but the edges wouldn’t hold. Exposed to him, she wanted to die of embarrassment.
‘I’ll help you get dressed,’ he said. ‘You’ll never manage by yourself.’
‘I don’t want you to touch me,’ she snapped. ‘Take me back.’
‘What do you think your father will say when he sees you like this?’
‘You should be more worried about yourself,’ she countered. ‘He’ll want to kill you.’
The the Lieutenant sent her a patronising smile. ‘For saving your virtue?’
‘You’re the one who tried to attack me just now.’
‘Sweet, I’m not a man who has to attack anyone.’ He pulled his coat from the carriage door, and Hannah winced at the flash of light from one of the street lamps.
She said nothing, her thoughts drifting back and forth, trying to decide whether he was a rogue or a man of honour. Yes, he’d kissed her when he shouldn’t have. But he’d also taken care of her.
Though he should have brought her home immediately, he’d listened when she’d begged him to stop the carriage. The excruciating, jarring sensation from the horses had made each mile an unending torture.
Another man wouldn’t have done the same. He’d have ignored her needs, riding as fast as he dared, back to Rothburne House. But not the Lieutenant.
So many questions gathered up, needing to be asked. Hannah traced her swollen lips, wondering what had driven him to do such a thing.
‘You don’t need to be afraid of me,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m not going to kiss you again.’ His cravat was loosened from his collar, while he donned the ill-fitting jacket.
‘I should hope not.’
He raised his gaze to hers, and she caught a glimpse of green eyes with flecks of brown. His cheeks held a light stubble, and for a moment, she wondered why the texture hadn’t scratched her skin.
‘You really are an innocent, aren’t you?’ He glanced over her ivory silk gown, and the remark didn’t sound like a compliment.
‘I suppose. You speak of it as though it’s a bad thing.’
He glanced outside the carriage window, as if searching for someone. ‘It’s what most men want.’
‘But not you.’
A dark laugh escaped him. ‘I’m not a good man at all.’
She didn’t entirely believe that. ‘Please take me home,’ she reminded him. ‘My family will be worried.’
‘Turn around,’ he ordered.
She knew what he needed to do, but she hesitated to let him touch her corset. It didn’t matter that he’d already done so; she’d been half out of her mind with pain. ‘No, it isn’t proper.’
The Lieutenant didn’t listen to her argument, but forced her to turn around. His hands fumbled with the stays, pulling them tight before tying them. ‘Proper or not, I won’t let your father think I ravaged you in a carriage.’
He was right. Her father would be angry enough at both of them, without him drawing the wrong conclusions.
‘How long have we been gone, do you think?’ Her stomach didn’t feel right, and her head still ached.
‘Longer than an hour. Two or three, perhaps. It isn’t dawn yet.’ His large hands struggled with the tiny buttons, and she couldn’t help but be even more aware of him. He muttered, ‘I’m better at taking these off than buttoning them up.’
Hannah didn’t doubt that at all. When he’d finished, she rested her head against the side of the carriage, waiting for him to go back to the