her head below his chin and listened to the steady drumming of his heart, weaving music around it, a melody of happy satisfaction she didn’t want to end. Let it beat on, she thought, turning now into forever.
Harry lay in contented languor, his fingers weaving through the long, silken strands of her hair, loosed from its pins in the heat of their passion for each other. His senses were drunk with the feel of her, the taste of her, the sight of her, the scent of her. She was beautiful, her skin like satin, her softness more sensual than velvet, her warmth more comforting than any he had known.
He thought of making love to her more slowly, savouring every moment, every nuance of intimacy, but it was better to wait. It was enough to revel in what they had just shared. There was no need to take it further right now.
He should have asked about protection, but he hadn’t known beforehand what he was going to do. If she conceived…Harry couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. A child. His child. An heir for George and Springfield Manor. He almost laughed at the irony of it. So unplanned. Yet if it happened, he would leave no stone unturned to change Ashley’s mind about coming to England.
He would enjoy being a father. He enjoyed William, clever little devil that he was. Shock rippled through his mind. They had forgotten William. How long would he wait upstairs before coming to investigate what was going on, before the silence piqued his lively curiosity? If her young son opened the office door, Ashley would be painfully embarrassed, mortified, and she might react badly to the gamble he had taken in pushing for the knowledge they had both wanted.
He sighed, hating to end it, but it was the only sure way to protect what they had shared. He rolled her onto her side so they were facing and gently tucked her tumbled hair behind one delicate ear, giving her time to gather her thoughts as their eyes met in a silent questioning of each other.
Not a trace of regret or hint of recrimination. A brilliant silver shone through the grey of her eyes. He knew it was reflected in his.
He smiled. ‘I think we’d better move. You have some talking to do with William.’
‘Oh!’ She flushed in confusion, horrified at her forgetfulness and what might have ensued from it. She scrambled to her feet in a rush, hunting her clothes in frantic haste.
Harry rose and went to the door, leaning against it to prevent any possible entry. ‘There’s no cause for panic,’ he assured her. ‘I’m holding the fort.’
She had already put on her panties and bra, which was a shame because he would have liked to watch her dress more leisurely. She flashed him an anguished look, then all movement was arrested as she stared at his naked physique.
‘Do I pass?’ he asked, cocking a teasing eyebrow, aware that he was not lacking in any manliness.
She gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘I guess you could say you have my seal of approval.’
‘You have mine, too.’ She had a divine shape, petite but beautifully curved and her bones softly fleshed.
She flushed, her eyes glowing with pleasure. ‘I’ve never been in this kind of situation,’ she confessed.
He laughed. ‘Neither have I. No style at all. Sponta-neous combustion.’
She giggled, a delightfully girlish sound, shy, nervous, yet rippling with elation. ‘I don’t think either of us gets top marks for control. Which makes us even.’
‘I like being even. I could take a lot of it.’
She didn’t demur. Harry felt a zing of elation. She was not going to back off. She wanted more, as he did.
She looked thoughtful as she continued dressing. She finished buttoning and zipping and started gathering up her hair, twisting it into a knot on top of her head. The action lifted her lovely breasts, reminding Harry of how they had felt against him. Desire shot through his loins again, and it took considerable willpower to reduce the surge of blood so that its effect wouldn’t be blatantly evident.
She finished pinning her hair in place and gave a helpless shrug as her eyes sought his in eloquent appeal. ‘I don’t know what to tell William. I don’t know where I am myself.’
‘As long as I stay here we’ll be lovers, Ashley.’
‘But you still intend to go back to England,’ she said flatly.
‘Yes. My place is there,’ he answered unequivocally. ‘It’s up to you to choose whether you’ll come with me or not.’
‘As your lover?’ she asked.
He paused to consider, weighing his answer carefully. ‘Let’s see what develops between us, Ashley. One thing I can say for certain. I don’t intend to be William’s uncle, so please don’t use that term in explaining where we are.’
‘So you aim to continue here as the butler,’ she said dryly.
He hesitated. Was this the moment for truth? If he confessed to who and what he really was, would she turn away from him in disgust at his deception? Perhaps feel hurtfully fooled, even over succumbing to the desire that had swept them both into intimacy?
He didn’t want to risk bringing any element of change into that. He wanted to know how much more could be built on it, whether it would grow into the magical partnership of souls he craved. He needed more time with her, just as they were.
‘I want to be everything to you. I want your every need and desire to be answered by me. If it pleases you to let the established order go on, then so be it.’ He gave her a whimsical smile. ‘Being a butler doesn’t preclude me from being your lover until such time as you decide what you want.’
She slowly nodded. ‘We’ll need to be discreet. Especially in front of William.’
‘That probably would be best,’ he conceded reluctantly. ‘There’s no good in raising his expectations if you know you’ll never meet them, Ashley.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. You,’ he said seriously. ‘I won’t be an uncle for William. I could be a father.’
She looked stunned. ‘You’re thinking of marriage?’
Why was she so surprised? Didn’t she know how special, how rare it was to have what they had just shared together? Maybe not with her limited experience.
‘Perhaps we could both think about it,’ he said gently. ‘I don’t even know if you’re receptive to another marriage after Roger. There’s much to explore and resolve between us.’
She said nothing. Her eyes were slightly glazed, her thoughts turned inward.
Harry decided to spell out the situation as he knew it would be for him. ‘Remember your question…what of the future?’
It snapped her attention to him.
‘As I see it, there are two futures for us,’ he went on. ‘What’s between us will either end in a beautiful memory…or marriage.’
She shuddered.
Harry didn’t know what it meant. He waited, watching her closely as she came to a decision, hoping he hadn’t pushed too far. But it was the plain truth. It would be one or the other.
He would never move in with a woman he couldn’t commit himself to. Such an arrangement offended his sense of honour. Nor would he move in with a woman who couldn’t or wouldn’t commit herself to him. It smacked of second-rate convenience. He had a need for all there could be in a fully committed partnership.
To his intense relief Ashley’s mouth slowly curved into a smile, although there was an ironic tilt to it. ‘Well, as my butler, perhaps you could bring me a nightcap after William is asleep tonight.’
Pleasure bubbled into a wide grin. ‘How fortunate I bought a dozen bottles of champagne this morning!’
‘Always so provident, Harry,’ she said, her eyes twinkling