A Royal Secret

CHAPTER TEN

SLOWLY, THE DARKNESS LIFTED.

Chara stirred as the blurry image before her gave way to the dimly lit room. The surface underneath her form felt unfamiliar, and turning over to the side, a soft gasp escaped her lips as her eyes settled on Jeffery. In that second, the memory of the evening before came rushing back with such speed, she could almost feel every second—his chest pressed to hers as her heart slammed wildly against her rib cage; the friction between their sweaty bodies; the warmth of his kisses; the feel of his fingers as they explored her skin...

She stared at his lips that were only an inch from hers, and the overwhelming desire to kiss them washed over her. But just as quickly, she was reminded of the spot behind her neck where the mark of her slavery so cruelly seared her skin, and she knew she needed to leave before he woke up.

She made to rise, realizing in that second that his arm was slung over her waist. She turned to stare at him once more, making certain he was still asleep; he was. Heaving a sigh of relief, she gently raised his arm, placing it on the bed, before climbing down the side.

The warm temperature of the room was a rude reminder of her naked state as her bare feet settled on the carpet. Making her way around the bed with her eyes scanning the floor for her nightdress, she found it near the chair she had first fallen asleep on, along with Jeffery's discarded nightshirt.

Color sprang up her cheek as her gaze drifted to him once more. It was nearly impossible to see his complete unclad form in the dimly lit room, but she could see the outline of his bare chest and legs, before the sheets around his waist and torso kept the other parts of him covered.

She smiled at the memory of being with him and with one final look at him; she leaned down, gathered her nightdress in her arms and slowly made her way back to her bedchamber.

~*~

Jeffery woke up the next morning to an empty bed, a vivid memory of the evening before, and an overwhelming feeling of regret.

What was he thinking by luring her into his bed?! He mentally scolded himself as his valet helped him get dressed that morning. Surely he was a fool to have given in to his lust, irrespective of the fact that his intention from the beginning was for them to have a temporary marriage.

He was a fool—he swore as he made his way down to breakfast that morning. It was foolish not to have thought his decision through, nor considered the possibility of her getting pregnant. If she got pregnant, it would cause an even more complicated situation with him either being unable to walk away because of the presence of a child, or with him needing to walk away irrespective of the presence of a child. And what future would such a child have? Would the child end up like him? Having to fight to prove his worth to the rest of society?

He avoided Rose all day until he was forced to endure her presence at dinner. As he approached the dining room, he loathed himself. He should have known it was madness to get a wife, he should have especially known it was madness to consummate their marriage.

Releasing a soft sigh, he entered the empty room and took his position at the head of the table. A few minutes later, the butler announced Rose's presence, and releasing a shaky breath, he rose to his feet.

Rose entered the room clad in a yellow dress. The image of their time together the evening before flashed through his mind the second his eyes settled on her. He pictured her form without the yellow dress, sprawled on his bed; a wonderful contrast of tan against his white sheets.

She stepped forward. "Jeffery." She curtsied.

Clearing his throat, he bowed his head. "A lovely evening to you, Rose."

She nodded. "Good evening, Jeffery." She met his gaze, the warmth of her brown eyes pulling him in.

Jeffery knew he made a mistake, and while he desired to make many more of those mistakes every evening, he felt sorry for Rose. He didn't wish to make her life worse than it already was, and so in that second, he swore never to give in to his lust again.

Forcing a frown to his face, he offered her a curt nod and resumed his position on his seat.

"Do you feel fully recovered from the illness?" she asked once they were both seated.

He kept his eyes on the bread on his plate. "As a matter of fact, I do."

"It feels good to have you join me for dinner."

Jeffery hated how his skin crawled with desire, or how his arms ached to pull her close and his lips burned to kiss her.

He groaned in response.

"Per—" she cleared her throat, and he glanced up. A dust of pink spread across her cheeks and nose, making her appear quite innocent and even more so, desirable. "Perhaps we must take a walk after dinner?" Jeffery stared at her lips as she spoke, almost certain he could reach across the table and capture them with his.

Frustrated by his thoughts, he shook his head in a useless attempt at scolding his wandering mind.

"Oh," her gaze fell to her plate, "forgive me, Jeffery, I imagined the fresh air would do you some good considering the fact that you have been stuck in your bedchamber for many days." Her thoughtfulness only helped to heighten his desire for her.

Knowing he couldn't spend another second in her presence without giving into his maddening desire, he sprang to his feet. "I must see to some business." When she made to rise up as well, he held up a hand, stopping her. "No need to rise, Rose," he shook his head, "please remain seated and finish your dinner." The words came out harsher than he intended, causing the light in her eyes to dim.

Shoving his chair back as guilt filled him, he turned from her and began making his way out of the room. But not before sighting the lone drop of tear that slowly slipped down Rose's cheek.