The Temptation of Laura (23 page)

Laura didn’t release her held breath until the door firmly closed behind the formidable Mrs. Fleet.

Adam let himself into their room above the tavern. Laura was sitting at the small dressing table, pinning a flower into her hair and humming softly. He stared. Dressed in nothing but her chemise, her coffee-colored nipples were shadowed beneath the material.

His libido stirred.

God, he hadn’t seen her looking so relaxed or flushed for days. Weeks. Since before Bette died. He closed the door and at its click, she turned. Her mouth curved in a wide smile.

“You’re back.” She rose and came toward him. “I’m so glad to see you.”

Satisfaction warmed his heart and he smiled. “Well, don’t you look happy?” He pressed a firm kiss to her mouth, before pulling back. His gaze drifted over her hair to the flower. It wasn’t a flower at all but a sprig of lavender. He touched his fingers to it. “What’s all this? You look beautiful.”

She laughed and a faint blush stained her cheeks. “Oh, a gypsy woman gave it to me. Said it would bring me luck.”

“Well, let’s hope she is right.” He pulled her tightly against him and the feel of her breasts made his impatience to have her all the more potent. “I might have to show you just how beautiful you look, rather than just saying it.”

“Well, aren’t you the charmer?” She pressed a brief kiss to his lips and moved to leave his arms. He grasped her tighter.

“You’re going nowhere when you look so radiant. Something’s changed about you. You look more . . . I don’t know, confident. I like it.”

A whisper of something he could not decipher flashed in her eyes and her smile faltered.

She laughed. “Don’t be silly. I’m the same as I was yesterday and the day before. Now, where would you like to eat tonight? It’s time you let me pay for something. My treat.”

Adam tried and failed to drag his eyes from her hypnotic gleam. He laughed. “My God, woman. Do you really expect me to go anywhere without making love to you first?”

“Adam . . .”

He pulled her close once more and she stiffened. He dropped his mouth to the curve of her neck in a bid to relax her. It was impossible she didn’t know what she meant to him. Just the smell of her—the sight of her—and the knowledge she was entirely his scrubbed away the stain of yet another disappointing day. Pride surged through him when her skin trembled beneath his lips. Was she equally as helpless to their attraction as he?

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered the words against her collarbone and moved his lips across her shoulder.

Her fingers raked into his hair. “Adam . . .”

“Mmm?”

“We should go out. Take some supper.”

“We will. After.” His erection pulsed against the constraint of his trousers and he reached for her breast. He slid his thumb across her nipple and it hardened into a pebble.

“Adam, please. Not now.” Her exhalation lifted the hair at his temple.

He smiled against the satiny softness of her jaw as he raised his head to look into her eyes, his hand still softly kneading her magnificent bosom. “We have time. We will always have time.”

The skin at her neck flushed pink as she swallowed. “I’ve been waiting for you. I want to go out and enjoy the evening. Please.”

What is wrong? Doesn’t she feel my need for her?
“Darling, please. Let me make love to you. Right here. Right now.” He dipped his mouth to hers.

She gripped his upper arms and pushed him back. “I said no.”

Her sharp tone and the severity of her shove threw icy-cold water on Adam’s desire, shriveling his penis and ego in one fell swoop. He stared at her. Her violet eyes were alight with determination and her cheeks dark red.

He stepped back. The animosity emanating from her was such a contradiction to her earlier state, confusion hit him on a wave of unwelcome rejection. Dented pride wound tight like a fist in his chest and he planted his hands on his hips. “What is it? What have I done?”

The skin at her neck shifted as she swallowed. “Nothing. You weren’t listening to me.” She approached the wardrobe in the corner of the room. “I just want to get out of here for a while. I’m hungry.”

His sexual frustration became anger. “I do not believe you.”

Her shoulders tensed as she stood before the open wardrobe doors, her back ramrod straight.

Unease rolled through him. Why wasn’t she turning around? Demanding he not speak to her in such a tone and awaiting an apology?

Her turned back brought guilt crashing down upon his shoulders. “Laura, I am sorry. It is just you looked so damn content when I came in and then—”

“And then I rejected sex from you.” She snatched a dress from the wardrobe, the hanger clattering to the floor. She whirled around. “And you turned into an animal, foaming at the mouth.” She stormed across the room and tossed the dress onto the bed. “What is it with men? Why do they seem to think women want sex all the damn time? Just because we’re smiling or happy.” She laughed. “No, even when we’re damn miserable, men surmise sex is the answer to cheer us.”

Adam frowned. What the hell was going on here?

She grabbed her petticoats and God only knew what else from every corner of the tiny room.

“Will you talk to me?” He glared. “What have I done?”

“I’ve already told you. I’m hun—”

“This is not about food.”

Silence.

The tension between them coated everything in distaste. Keeping her face turned, she pushed one leg and then the other into a petticoat and yanked it onto her waist. Her face glowed red in the candlelight, and the sprig of lavender quivered in her hair. She was beyond angry. She was livid.

He had not seen her like this since the night they had first spoken outside the theater when he had insisted on walking her home. Well, be damned if she thought for one second he would let her storm off into the night like she had then.

“Has someone said something to you? Upset you?” He marched to the bed and curled his hand around the bedpost. “What has happened?”

She snatched her crinoline from the floor, steadfastly ignoring him.

Enough was enough. He strode toward her. “Talk to me.” He yanked the crinoline from her hand and tossed it behind him. “I will not let you shut me out. I will not be treated in the same damn, dismissive manner I endured from my parents. Now, tell me what has put you in such a sanctimonious frame of mind?”

She froze for a brief moment before slowly lifting her eyes to his. “Sanctimonious?”

Damnation.
She glowered at him as though she might swipe his face clean off with a single slap of her hand.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. Angry then. I do not know.”

She fisted her hands on her hips, her breasts rising and falling with each agitated breath. “I’m not yours, Adam. You don’t own me and I don’t owe you anything. I’ll do what I want, when I want.”

A horrible sense of foreboding seeped into his blood. “Of course, I do not own you. Why would you say that? Me kissing your neck, touching your breast has made you feel that way? That I think I have ownership of you?”

“I told you I wanted to work.”

“What?” Confusion rolled through him as he grappled to understand what she wanted, what he needed to give her to bring the light back to her eyes. “You are working. The coffee shop—”

“Was like earning money scrubbing up an animal’s filth for a penny a day.” Her eyes blazed with anger. “I left that hideous place. I told the woman in charge exactly what she could do with her job.”

So it was not the job. He frowned. “And that is fine. If you hated it there so much, I would not want—”

“There you go again.” She shook her head and huffed out a laugh. “What
you
want. What about what
I
want? What about that?”

The longer he stared at her livid violet eyes, the quicker realization dawned. Was this about his failure to find an investor? His shoulders slumped as his heart grew heavy. What right did he have to expect her to wait with no end in sight? She had been patient, undemanding, and kept her word to support him. She was worldly wise and intelligent. She deserved so much more than he was currently able to give her.

She glared. “As I thought, you have absolutely nothing to say to defend yourself. You’re the same as the rest of them.”

“Laura . . .”

“What, Adam? What are you going to say now that will have me falling headfirst into bed with you?”

No words formed as he stared into her eyes. Anger and frustration emanated from her, stripping him of anything to say. Christ, had he lost her? Nausea whirled and clenched in his gut. Shame and self-hatred that he had not felt for weeks settled like lead behind his breastbone.

“Is this about your insistence I find someone else to play Lucinda?”

“The play has nothing to do with this.”

He shook his head. “I cannot expect you to continue to believe in me after weeks of failing to find an investor. I have no right.” He wiped his hand over his face. “I practically accosted you in Bath, asked you to wait for me while I went to Bristol . . .” She tilted her chin in response and he halted. “Is that what this is about? My sleeping with Annabel? I thought you were at peace with that.”

 

Laura stared.
Tell him. He told you about Annabel and you’re both still here together. Everything will be all right. You have no hold on him; he has no hold on you. He’ll understand. He has to.

Inhaling a calming breath, her anger abated as she crossed the room. Sitting on the bed beside him, she took his clenched fist in her trembling hands. “I don’t want the burden of what I did today on my shoulders. I refuse to let it bring me down or make me feel guilty.”

“What you did today? A burden?” His smile was tentative, his brow still creased in confusion. “Tell me. I do not want you to worry about anything.”

Laura swallowed hard, before taking a deep breath. “Well, I . . .” The admission stuck like broken glass in her throat, and the intense confusion in his eyes stretched her nerves to breaking. “It really is no different than what happened with Annabel. I really just did the same thing.”

His smile dissolved as he slowly pulled his hand from hers. “What do you mean you have done the same thing?”

The tension in the room turned icy cold. The laughter from the bar downstairs drifted under the door, loud and mocking. The room darkened as though twilight had fallen without warning.

Her mouth drained dry. He wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t make her feel like the villain of the piece. He was no better. His actions no different. Her body traitorously shook, belying her shame. “I worked today. I worked and earned more money than I would have in a month at that coffeehouse.”

He stared, the lines on his forehead deepening as his color rose. “You worked?”

She nodded.

Second by second, her nausea grew and her hands turned clammy.

His realization came immediately and with sickening clarity. His dark eyes turned almost black and his jaw to a hardened line. He rose and the bed shifted beneath her as Laura’s world tipped on its axis. He stood, looking down at her as though he didn’t quite know who she was.

“You worked.” The words slipped from his tongue as a statement rather than a question. He spun away and fisted his hand into his hair. “Oh, God, you
worked.
”

She swallowed once more. “Adam, listen to me. It was one day. It doesn’t matter. We’ve now got enough money—”

He whirled around and Laura sucked in a breath to see his face so contorted and mottled red in anger.

He yanked his hand from his hair. “Of course, it matters. Don’t you see? Don’t you see what this means?”

Pride and self-defense bolted her from the bed and she stopped inches away from him. Eye-to-eye. Toe-to-toe. She was her own woman and always would be. Her stomach quivered, but she held firm. “It means nothing. We now have the means to stay in London longer. We can continue to look for an investor. Together. We will go to the theaters. We will—”

He glared. “For how long? A week? A month? And what happens then? You
work
again?”

Anger twisted inside and it took all of her self-control not to raise her hand to his face. Why couldn’t he see she did it for him? For them? Tears threatened and she blinked. “I won’t apologize for what I did. It was my decision and it had nothing to do with you.”

His eyes widened as he stared. “Nothing . . . you think you sleeping with another man has nothing to do with me? It has
everything
to do with me.”

Her temper burst. “Why? Because I’m here with you, you think that makes you responsible for me? I never asked that of you. I wouldn’t expect that from anyone. I don’t even
want
that from you or anybody else, for that matter.”

“What
do
you want, Laura? That is the real question here. If I cannot be the man who provides for you, looks after you, what is it we are doing here?”

Her heart ached and the tears she fought blurred her vision. How had this happened? They had been foolish to let their relationship tip into the personal. She should’ve resisted his kiss, his excitement, his aspirations and weak, weak love. She swiped at her cheeks and brushed past him in a bid to breathe.

“I never wanted you to feel you had to look after me.” She faced him as fear bounced around in her stomach and distress seeped icy cold into her veins. “I never wanted that. I’ve been alone too long to start taking orders and expectations from you or anyone else.”

He shook his head. “I do not believe this. I thought . . . Goddamn it, I love you.”

Her heart stopped. Her body trembled. “What?”

He came toward her and cupped her jaw in his hands. His deep, dark eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “I said I love you, but if you cannot let me look after you and be the man I need to be for you, it will never work between us.”