Evangeline crumpled the short note in the palm of her hand and tossed it into the parlor fireplace before her mother could ask what it was about. She’d already memorized the words anyway. Like a promise whispered in her ear, it made her smile.
Garden gate at eight o’clock tonight.
Yours,
Ash
She blushed at his salutation. Yours. Was he hers? After chasing after him for a year, and then having him chase after her, was this it? It certainly had felt like something real in his carriage last night. He’d told her he couldn’t stay after his work was done. She knew the truth of their situation, but she also knew the truth of her own heart for the first time. Her decisions weren’t steering her astray as her family thought—they were steering her in the unlikely direction she was meant to go.
Tonight, that direction was wherever Ash was going.
After a terribly long afternoon filled with lectures from her mother, quiet plans with her maid, and anticipation for tonight, she was at the garden gate with ten minutes to spare. She’d been taught not to pace; however, she’d also been taught not to climb from her window to meet a gentleman at the garden gate. She turned and had begun walking back to where she’d come from when she heard his voice over her shoulder.
“Leaving so soon?”
“Ash,” she exclaimed as she turned back toward him. He stood on the opposite side of the fence. The street behind him was empty, making him look as though he’d simply appeared at the garden gates without the need of movement. “Where is your carriage?”
“You sound disappointed. Are you using me for my fine conveyance?” A look of mock shock drew his brows together.
“Of course I’m using you,” she teased as she neared him at the fence. “I have a weakness for pairs of strange-looking dogs.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” He held the gate open for her.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw no sign of watchful eyes in the windows of her home as she slipped out onto the dark street.
Ash took her hand in his and led her around the corner to where his carriage was waiting. “Did you complain of a headache again?”
Her plan this evening had been carefully thought through. Jane would make certain she was seen going into Evangeline’s bedchamber in another hour. A scripted, one-sided conversation would take place, and at the end of it, Jane would leave, locking Evangeline’s door, yet leaving her window open for Evangeline’s return. It was a brilliant plan. “Tonight I’m reading in bed,” she said with a satisfied smile.
“Would you like to return to it?” He glanced at her, a grin tugging at his cheeks. “I would happily join you in your bed. Although your book may go unfinished.”
“Where are you taking me?” she asked to cover the deep blush that heated her skin.
“It’s a surprise.” He handed her up into the carriage before joining her.
Tonight he didn’t pull her into his arms, leaving her somewhat disappointed. Instead, he sat across from her, his long legs stretched across the floor of the carriage, trapping her feet between his ankles. From this position, she was forced to sit straight with nowhere to look but into his blue eyes. Perhaps forced was a strong word, as she had only a moment ago considered climbing onto the man’s lap for the ride. But there was something quite intimate about sitting in a darkened carriage and staring into a man’s eyes. He nudged the sides of her feet with his boots and smiled at her as they began to roll away from her home.
For the duration of the short ride, she guessed their destination while Ash made wild claims of where he should take her—to the park to swim in the Serpentine, to the harbor to smell the dead fish, to a brothel to have her cheeks rouged. By the time they arrived in an alley between two tall buildings, she was out of guesses. Where were they? But just as she leaned near the window to investigate, Ash produced the cravat she’d pulled from his throat the previous night.
“Have you decided to move into your carriage now?” she asked as he stretched the length of fabric out between his hands. “If you brought in a few options of coat, you would never need to leave.”
“This is to be a surprise.” He held up the cravat and nodded for her to comply with whatever he had planned for her.
Her heart sped as she looked at him. “You want to blindfold me.”
“Have you never been surprised before?”
“Not with anything pleasant,” she admitted.
“Then I’m glad you’re with me tonight.” His smile was warm, easing her fears.
She leaned forward on the seat until she was poised in front of him. He lifted the cravat to her face. His fingers grazed her cheeks in a light touch as he carefully wrapped the fabric over her eyes and tied it at the back of her head.
“It smells like you,” she murmured.
“Hopefully that isn’t a bad beginning,” he said with a laugh as he secured the knot behind her.
“No, it’s…” Her voice trailed off as she inhaled the scent of his skin. Memories of last night overwhelmed her as she sat in the dark surrounded by the entirely male smell of shaving soap mixed with something that belonged only to Ash.
Without warning, he pressed his lips to hers in a quick but heart-stopping kiss. He gathered her hands in his own as he said, “I’m right here. There’s no need to become intoxicated on the scent of my cravat.”
“I wasn’t,” she began but stopped, knowing it was a lie.
“Come with me.” There was a smile in his voice as he lifted her from the carriage and placed her in front of him on the ground. “Wait. I almost forgot…” She heard him step away for a second before returning to pull her bonnet from her head and replace it with a different one.
She reached up to touch it, but he grabbed her raised hand and placed a stick of some sort in her grasp. “And hold this just so. Very well, you’re ready.”
She couldn’t keep the giggle from her voice. She felt completely ridiculous holding some unknown object in her hand while blindfolded and wearing an unknown hat. “Ready to go where?”
“With me.” He wrapped her arm around his and began leading her away into the unknown.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked again as the smell changed from London alley to something lightly floral.
“Do you trust me?” he asked against her ear.
“Yes. But I would still like to know if I’m in the park or the center of a ballroom.”
“You’re in neither place.”
“Ash, that isn’t helpful in the least.”
“Watch your step.”
She stopped walking and looked toward where she imagined his face to be. “How am I to watch anything at all?”
“That’s true,” he mused, his voice coming from a completely different location from where she’d focused her glare.
While she turned, attempting to find him, he slipped his hands around her waist, lifting her from the ground. A second later she was in his arms and he was moving. She buried her face in his neck, hoping they were not in the middle of a ballroom after all. When he was through with this charade, she was going to kill him. He jostled her close to his chest. Was he climbing stairs? Stairs… Where were there stairs? But she gave up a minute later, realizing she’d never been anywhere with this many stairs.
His heart pounded through her body. She enjoyed the feel of it through her hands, but he must be exhausted from carrying her up so many steps. If he’d only remove the cover from her eyes, she could walk. “If you allow me to see, you won’t have to carry me,” she muttered against the soft hair that curved behind his ear.
“That’s a fine offer, since we’ve reached the top now.” He released her legs and allowed her to slide down his body until her toes touched the floor.
“The top of what?”
“You aren’t going to stop asking questions and simply experience the moment, are you?”
“No,” she replied with a smile, the cravat stretching across her cheeks as she did so.
“Very well. Have it your way.” He pulled the cloth from her eyes.
She blinked as her eyes adjusted from dark to the dim lighting of… “We’re…in a hall of some sort.”
“Right you are.” He laced his fingers with hers and tugged her toward the far end of the hall.
Glancing down, she now saw that she held a large masquerade mask on a stick that would make her look as if she were an insect of some sort. “Is this a masquerade ball? Because those don’t usually end well for me.”
“No.” He chuckled and took the mask from her. “That was simply for my amusement. You looked like you might sting me the whole way up here—quite frightening.”
Sighing with exasperation, she looked behind them to see a service door that must lead to the steps. Sparse candles held in shining metal sconces cast angled shadows over the floor as they progressed down the hall. It was quite dark, yet it was a fine building, with dark wood moldings surrounding the occasional painting, and a thick rug beneath their feet. It reminded her of the elegance of the British Museum, where Isabelle could often be found, but there weren’t enough paintings or sconces for this to be some lesser-used upper room.
How would anyone see the art, even during the day? What type of building was elegant yet shadowed? Voices rumbled somewhere in the distance, but all was empty and silent where they were. She glanced to Ash for answers but he only smiled. As they progressed, she noticed the series of doors they passed were only on one side of the hall. Evangeline squinted at one of the small plaques outside the last door as they slowed. The Duke of Kilburn was embossed into the ornate piece of metal that hung there.
“Ash, where are we? And who is the Duke of Kilburn?”
One of her two questions was answered as he opened the door for her, leaving her breathless. Chandeliers piled high with candles hung from an ornately painted ceiling in the center of the large room. Where they stood, in a shadowed box above the gathered crowd, they were almost level with the ceiling. She stepped forward, counting four levels beneath them all filled with people. Gasping, she stepped back again. Someone could see her.
“No one will know you’re here,” Ash said, reading her thoughts.
“The theater? I’ve always wanted to attend. Mother calls it vulgar. How did you manage it? What if the Duke of Kilburn finds us here?” She knew she was blabbering, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“I knew this box to be free.”
She narrowed her eyes on him. She was now an accomplice in his crimes. Breaking into a duke’s private box at the theater must have some penalty. “Someone could see us,” she said without any heat to her voice. She didn’t want to leave. “We shouldn’t be here.”
“That is why I brought this.” He tapped her hat.
She shrank to the corner and removed the hat he’d placed on her in the alley to investigate it. It was by far the largest, ugliest hat she’d ever laid eyes upon, adorned with giant faux flowers and bunches of ribbon in a green that reminded her of a muddy bog. “It’s hideous,” she said with a laugh.
“I know. No one would believe you would wear something so unfashionable.” He tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear as he spoke. “Your secret visit to the vulgar side of London is safe.”
“This may become my new favorite fashion.” Replacing it on her head, she murmured a quiet thank-you.
“Thank you,” he countered. “I believe we have some time before the production begins. Would you care to sit?” He indicated the row of chairs in the center of the box, but she didn’t move from the shadowed back corner.
“What are you doing to me, Ash Claughbane? Breaking into a ducal box at the theater… What’s next?”
“That, Evie, is entirely up to you.” He ran his hands down her arms.
Her heart pounded at the look in his eyes, as if she were the only person in the world, only her. “Anything I want?” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She was staring. She knew it and yet she couldn’t stop herself.
“Whatever you want,” he murmured. His voice was soft, rolling over her in waves of warmth with every word. “All you have to do is say it.”
“Kiss me.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up for a split second before he stepped too close for casual conversation. “Here before the prying eyes of society?” he teased, but his hands were already on her, pulling her to his body as he trapped her against the back wall of the box.
The giant hat pushed to the back of her head as her shoulders found the cool plaster wall. He closed the gap between them, kissing her with much more intensity than he had in the alley. This was a kiss of declaration, of direction, and she wanted to follow with all of her heart. She didn’t know where this path led, but she knew it would bring Ash closer to her. She reached out, tasting him and seeking more…and he matched her. For every move she made, he upped the stakes as if it was a game—a game he played quite well.
His hands moved over her body in knowing strokes, up her sides, down over her hips to the curve of her bottom, pulling her into a frenzied pool of wanting. Their bodies pressed together, both seeking more.
She delved her hands into his coat, tugging at the back of his shirt until she’d ripped it loose from his clothing. Running her hands up his back, she reveled in the heat of his skin against her wrists, the movement of his muscles beneath her fingers, his body so close to hers.
Just when she thought she was as close as she could be to this man she’d dreamed of for the past year, he nudged her feet apart with the toe of his boot and stepped closer. He lifted her until they were on eye level. He broke their kiss but only long enough to meet her gaze for a second before his lips were on hers again.
There was some emotion in that short lock of their eyes that she couldn’t quite define. All she knew was no one had ever looked at her that way, and no one else ever would. She splayed her hands across his back, needing more of him as she deepened their kiss. He matched her desperation and rocked his hips into hers with a small groan—his or hers, she wasn’t certain.
His hands slid over her hips in a gentle caress that was in direct opposition to the harsh kiss they shared and the grind of his hips into hers. She grasped at his body, her fingernails dragging across his back in a fashion that would surely leave marks. She would apologize for that later, but just now she’d lost all control. Years of training had not prepared her for the reality of what courtship led to. There were no controlled smiles or touches, only raw emotion and need. The hard force of his body dragging against hers was overwhelming.
“Ash,” she choked out a moment later against the rough evening stubble of his jaw. She didn’t know what she was going to ask, only that his name hung on her lips as if he was the answer.
He lifted his head to look into her eyes and she saw something wild there, matched by the rampant beat of her heart. Releasing his hold on her until her feet were on the floor, he threw the hat she’d forgotten across the box and plunged his hands into her hair, sending pins clattering to the floor around them. She pulled his coat off his shoulders in the next second and let it drop to the floor before stretching up to run her hands over his broad shoulders.
He peered down, eyeing his coat with a dubious expression, before kicking it out to lie like a blanket at their feet. “Perhaps I should have joined you in your bed after all,” he mused.
On a slow, seeking kiss, he gathered her in his arms and knelt on the inside of his coat, holding her in front of him. The soft lining met her knees as her gown billowed around her on the floor.
“I like this better.”
Here he was hers without risk of intrusion from her family. It was odd to feel so secluded and alone with him when half the town was below them waiting for the opera to begin, but at their elevation, only the birds in the rafters above the ornate ceiling could see them. Only with Ash could the floor of a stolen box at the theater become a romantic escape into bliss. He made her dare to live life. His acceptance gave her strength, and yet in his arms she yielded to his touch and allowed herself to be weak. What sort of man caused such a reaction? Only Ash.
She loved this man. Perhaps she’d always known this in some locked-away portion of her heart, but Ash had thrown those doors open. There were no locked doors with him. When had she started to love him? She couldn’t find a time or day in her memory when love began, only that it had grown within her wild and free.
“What are you thinking?”
That I love you, she almost said, but even bravery had its bounds. “Locks and doors,” she muttered.
His hands glided over her body in a heated embrace as he looked into her eyes. “You’re safe here with me,” he said, misunderstanding her disjointed thoughts.
“I know.” And with that she began to shimmy her arms out of her gown.
Moments later, her gown had been tossed aside, and Ash had unlaced her stays and stripped off her shift, leaving her kneeling before him in only her stockings. Before she could reach for it, Ash had tossed his shirt aside and returned to her, his hands covering every inch of her exposed skin in turn. She slid her hands over the muscular planes of his chest. A dusting of hair covered his powerful body, tapering down to his hips. Her gaze dropped to watch his hands roam over her bare skin. His thick forearms flexed with almost reverent restraint as he touched her breasts, her waist, her hips.
“Evie,” he whispered as he laid her down on his coat and braced himself over her. “You’re perfect like this, tousled hair and no adornment. You don’t need jewels to make this neck beautiful.” He trailed his fingers down her breastbone, making her shiver.
His lips followed the same path. He traced a line with his fingers down her stomach with the promise of his lips following in their wake. But when he touched her as he had last night in his carriage, she flinched. Would his mouth follow his fingers even there? Her breaths grew ragged with anticipation of what might be as he nudged her body open for his exploration. She lifted her head, watching the look of wonder and appreciation on Ash’s face as he gazed down at her.
It was wrong—the excitement that buzzed through her body at being displayed before him in such a manner—but she wanted to share this with him. She was breaking a long list of rules as she opened to his touch…but someone wise once told her rules were malleable things and would snap back when one was done with them.
Hang the rules, anyway.
He placed a hand on the inside of her thigh and guided her leg to the side, exposing every part of her body for him to see. After a lifetime of being wrapped in pristine gowns, she was fully revealed to him with no adornment. She was free to be anything she wanted, and tonight she wanted to be his. In the next instant his lips were on her as she’d wondered, even hoped, they would be. His mouth did things to her body she didn’t think possible, as he first ran his tongue over her in delicious strokes, then drew her close with his lips, and finally invaded her. Plundering and taking everything she offered, he pulled at the last strands of her rational mind. All thought was on what he was doing to her and how she wanted more.
She sank her fingers into his hair, needing to touch him. She pressed into him even while it overwhelmed her, catching her in a torrent of confusing desire with Ash the only source of relief. She shifted and arched beneath him in fretful movements, but he held her still with one hand on her hip. With the other, he… She didn’t know what he was doing with his wicked taunts against the most intimate part of her, but she dug her fingers deeper into his hair in a silent plea for more. Then she was shaking beneath him as he coaxed her over the edge into pleasure as he had last night with his words—only now he spoke silently with his lips, his hands, his tongue flicking against her until she couldn’t hold on any longer.
A moment later he was still caressing her with the backs of his fingers as she lay before him both satisfied and yet starved for more. Would she ever have enough of this man to be sated?
He ran his lips down the inside of her thigh to her knee, the slight stubble on his face scraping against her sensitive skin and sending shivers up her spine. He took a playful bite at the inside of her knee and began to move back up her leg with slow scratches of his chin and soothing kisses leading the way.
He slid back up her entire body that way, hard planes against soft, rough skin against smooth. The dark, intent look in his eyes would have frightened her even a week ago, but now she wanted the same thing he did. This was the man that she loved, and there was nothing to fear with him. The delicious friction of the hair on his chest against her breasts made her curl into his body. Her knee came up to cradle his hip, dragging against the fabric of his breeches. She wanted to touch him as he had her, to feel the heat of his skin against her entire body. She wasn’t certain what to do, but it began with the removal of his clothing.
Reaching between them, she trailed her fingers down the ridges of his stomach, then grabbed the waist of his breeches. Her fingers dipped into the top edge of the already taut fabric, making Ash flinch above her, his arms tensing on either side of her head.
Even though she was enjoying the tickle of his hair against her knuckles, perhaps she wasn’t doing this properly. She’d never removed a gentleman’s clothing before, after all. She required assistance to dress—perhaps he was the same. She slid her other hand over the bulging fabric, searching for the buttons that must hold his clothing on somehow. Ash pushed into her grasp, and the entire bulge pulsed beneath her hand. She froze, her eyes flashing to Ash’s in alarm. But he only raised a brow at her as if she should have expected such a thing to happen.
She hadn’t expected such a thing to happen. She hadn’t expected any of this, but now that she was here, she wanted more.
Returning to her work, she discovered the secret to removing a gentleman’s breeches was, in fact, all in the wrist. Ash grew more and more still by slow degrees the longer she worked on the fall of his breeches. He twitched beneath her knuckles when she grazed his skin, but remained otherwise frozen. Watching her with a dark, almost pained expression, he waited for her to finish. When the fabric of his breeches lost the battle to her persistent fingers, she blinked at the length of him that she’d released.
She looked up and met Ash’s gaze.
“If you want to touch me, you can,” he rasped.
With a tiny nod she placed her fingers against the length of him and skated her hand down over the surface. Lifting a curious gaze to Ash’s face again, she watched his expression as she curled her fingers around him. His breaths were harsh and he looked at her as if he might perish at any moment, but he didn’t move away. She tested her boundaries with him and moved her hand over him as he’d touched her in the carriage.
Ash groaned and bent his head to her bare shoulder, but did nothing to stop her exploration. She slid her hand over him again, this time dragging her thumb over the tip of him. He groaned louder at that and bit at the fleshy part of her shoulder. His lips trailed up the side of her neck now, as if poised to inflict punishment if she dared to continue.
She dared, and he sucked at the base of her neck until she squirmed beneath him in response. Releasing him, she trailed her hands over his hips and up his back. He was hers to enjoy tonight. She’d wished for this for so long without knowing what exactly she was wishing for.
She moved her hands down his back, beneath his now-loose breeches, and grabbed entire handfuls of his quality bum. She’d have to tell Isabelle about it later. Or perhaps not, since this was rather incriminating.
She wanted more of him. The way he covered her body yet still held himself braced on his arms above her was infuriating. She spread her fingers over his skin and grabbed him again, this time pulling herself up to meet his chest. The length of him pressed heavily against the core of her body. The sensation was thrilling. She couldn’t look away from the heavy-lidded desire in his eyes.
“Evie,” he warned. He pulled his hips away from her, and she dropped back to the floor. That was when she noticed his arms were shaking. “I hadn’t intended on things going this far. I didn’t bring you here to…”
“I know you didn’t.” She released her hold on his backside to trace the lines of muscles that began at his hips and stretched up his sides.
He took a ragged breath and looked in her eyes. “I’ve stolen a great many things, swindled wealth away from unsuspecting gentlemen.” His voice rasped as if his words came at a great cost. “I’ve done large amounts of wrong in my life, but I won’t steal this from you.” He lowered a hand to cover the core of her body where it still hummed from his efforts. “I won’t take you unless you want it.”
Was he asking if she wanted this to end? She didn’t ever want this to end.
She wanted to wake at his side every day and find herself in this exact place by nightfall, but perhaps on a bed instead of the floor of a London theater. She rocked into the palm of his hand. “I want it,” she assured him, wishing she could explain how much, but knowing this wasn’t the time for such talk. “I want you, Ash Claughbane. Steal me away. Swindle me. I’m yours.”
He exhaled with what she thought might be gratitude and moved his hand to her hip. Her grip on him tightened, willing him to stay with her and lead her into the unknown. His gaze met hers and held her there as he rocked her hips up and entered her in one quick motion. She couldn’t move—the contact she’d craved now had her pinned beneath him. Had he pierced through to her heart? It was possible. His body was pressed against hers as he filled her, covered her, surrounded her. She’d tensed and bit her lip as her body stretched in ways she’d never imagined. The pain that was rumored among ladies was overshadowed by the excitement of finally possessing every bit of the man she loved. She wanted to share this with him.
As if he could read her thoughts—and with the way he was watching her, perhaps he could—he moved his hand over her hip, encouraging her to relax and trust him. “I won’t hurt you again, Evie.”
“You aren’t going to stop, are you?”
He only chuckled in response as he withdrew and drove into her again. This time there was no pain. Somehow knowing she’d recovered from the initial shock of his intrusion, he changed his rhythm against her. Her body became more and more pliable in his hands as she now arched to meet him. The sheer power of his body mixed with something lighter—fun and rebellious—into a potent concoction of need, driving her steadily forward into pleasure-filled darkness.
She clung to him as she moved into a world she didn’t know or understand, trusting he would show her everything there was to see. Everything around her crackled with the fire that burned brightly between them as she reached for some unnamed peak. She would surely perish if she didn’t reach the point he was steering her toward. But then she was pulling him closer as she fell into a boneless heap beneath him. The bond that seemed to tie them together in that moment made her eyes prickle with the heat of tears. She loved him, and right now he was hers. He stilled in her, watching her spiral down from the heights he had pushed her to.
Eyes sparkling with mischief, he lifted her from the floor and pulled her with him as he leaned against the wall. She blinked at the sudden change, realizing she now straddled him, her hands landing on his shoulders and her knees on either side of his hips.
“It’s not over?” she whispered.
“Hardly. You’re mine, remember?” He sucked at her neck as his hands held her hips steady on him. “I’m not done swindling pleasure from you.”
He flexed his hips off the coat-covered floor in a quick motion that drove him deeper into her body, daring her to play his game. Her breath caught at the new sensation of their position and she clutched his shoulders in response.
A pleased grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he guided her hips over him for a minute. The pace was too restrained and she couldn’t handle it, surging forward. He was watching her move on him, a look of awe on his face. He mouthed something without sound that might have been either love you or look at you, she wasn’t certain, but she didn’t spare it any thought as she stole her pleasure from his body.
The power of her position over him, the ability to make him look at her that way, make him mutter soundless words to himself, was intoxicating. She could move how she wanted, take what she wanted, and he allowed her that—without judgment.
There in his eyes she could see how his confidence in what he was doing warred with his control slipping away. Sly smiles were replaced with a look of wild desperation that was building again in her as well. He moved one hand to reach between them and toy with the same sensitive place that had made her wild earlier as he pulled her down onto his body with more force than she alone possessed. She bent to his clear skill and allowed him to do what he wished with her. Arching into his thrusts, she almost cried out when he pulled her down to him in one last forceful action. He reached for her mouth, covering it with his as he pulsed inside her.
A minute later, they still clung to one another in a heap of sweat-slick and still-shaking body parts. Somewhere beyond their private world an orchestra began to tune their instruments. The intensity and power of what they’d just shared was too fragile for words. All she knew was she had to find a way to keep Ash Claughbane in her life.
They sat there until the opera began, the music filling the air around them, but neither moved to claim their seats. He’d only left her once and that was to retrieve a cloth dipped in the cool water of the bucket where a bottle of champagne sat in the corner. Returning to her, he’d pressed the fabric between her legs with a gentle touch. She would no doubt be sore tomorrow, but the gesture made her heart clench. After throwing the handkerchief back in the direction of the champagne pail, he propped himself against the wall and pulled her toward him until she was resting between his thighs, curled on top of his coat with his capable arms wrapped around her.
Turning her head to the side, she reached up to press her lips to the edge of his jaw. “The theater should always be viewed in this manner.” Her voice was a raspy whisper beneath the high notes of the soprano.
“Naked and not watching at all?” he murmured into her hair with a chuckle, the sound vibrating down her back.
“It’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful,” Ash whispered as he continued to roam his hands over her body, over her hip, down her thigh, then back up across her stomach to her breast. He traced a random pattern of warmth and awareness over her body, lulling her into equal parts comfort and anticipation of where he might touch next.
She squirmed farther into his embrace, resting her hands on his thighs. “Have you ever wanted to hold on to a moment and keep it forever? I would keep this one.”
His hands tightened around her as some emotion passed across his face, but when he looked down at her a second later the emotion was gone. “It’s difficult to hold on to anything for very long in my life—such that it is.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” She turned her cheek into his chest. “I could hold on with you.”
“Things like moments don’t like to be captured that way.” He sounded almost sad. If he wanted something, all he needed to do was say it. Wasn’t that what he was always telling her?
She took a breath and voiced the questions that consumed her mind. “What about things like being together and happiness? Could we hold on to that?”
“I’m not letting go—not tonight.” He tightened his grip on her in a fierce and possessive manner that soothed her even if he hadn’t answered her questions.
She could focus on where that would leave them when the sun rose tomorrow. Just now, she didn’t want to think of any time beyond right now on the floor of a stolen box at the theater.
“Good,” she said, twisting in his arms. “If you aren’t letting go, that leaves my hands free to roam—for tonight, at any rate.”
“The rules of your games aren’t fair. You know that, don’t you?” he chided jokingly, his hands sliding around her waist as she moved.
“Neither are yours,” she countered with a grin. “I learned from the best.”