Son of a rogue and a gypsy, Hero Fiennes Tiffin was a notorious rake until a shattering betrayal left him alone and embittered in the Welsh countryside. Desperation drives quiet schoolteacher Josephine Langford to ask Hero Fiennes Tiffin to help sav...
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Though Hero hadn't expected to sleep, Josephine's soft warmth overcame his grief and pain. He awoke with the dawn and lay very still, not wanting to disturb the woman slumbering in his arms. The worst was over; he had survived other betrayals, and he would survive this time. But it would have been much harder without Josephine beside him.
The night before, he had thought he was dissembling rather well, right up until the moment when she started to leave. Then a crippling wave of despair had engulfed him. In that moment he would have gone down on his knees and begged if that would have persuaded her to stay.
It would have been better if he had managed to restrain himself until she was safely gone, for it was always a mistake to reveal weakness. But he had never made a practice of regretting what couldn't be changed, and he didn't now.
Certainly he didn't regret having Josephine in his bed. A trace of exotic perfume still lingered, triggering a vivid memory of how dazzling she had looked. This morning, in her relentlessly plain nightgown and with her hair escaping her braid, she was adorable, more enticing than the most expensive courtesan.
He indulged himself in the fantasy that they were already lovers, and that soon he would wake her with a kiss that would be the first step toward fulfillment. His gaze went to her mouth. Even when she pursed her lips into her best schoolmistress glare, she could not suppress the natural fullness. In the muted morning light, her lips were so luscious he could barely restrain himself from sampling them.
Mentally he reviewed the most memorable kisses they had shared. The list was lengthy, for Josephine had proved to be an apt pupil in the arts of sensuality. The fact did not surprise him; he had learned early that intelligent women made the best bedmates. When they became lovers, she would be without peer.
But since that hadn't happened yet, he must control his desire. He didn't think that restraint would be a problem—until he realized that he was already stroking her slim body.
When he ordered himself to stop, his hand drifted to a halt on her breast, but refused to be lifted away. Through the no-nonsense flannel, he felt her heart beating against his palm.
It was time to remove his hand. He told himself that, forcefully, and managed to raise his hand a couple of inches—far enough for his fingertips to begin teasing her nipple to tantalizing hardness.
He didn't know whether to laugh or swear. His body's refusal to obey would be amusing, if it wasn't so dangerous.
She gave a sigh of contentment and snuggled closer, her hand sliding lower on his torso. For an instant desire gained the upper hand, and he leaned forward. He would give her a deep kiss so that she would be aroused by the time she was fully awake. He looked forward to removing the flannel nightgown and uncovering her silken skin. When he kissed her breasts she would make that delicious choked sound deep in her throat. Then her eyes would drift shut as her yearning body conquered her overactive mind. The fantasy was so vivid that it almost overwhelmed him.
