Deception. A.S. Fenichel

concerned about their virtue spending the night with a virile man, but Lillian could defend herself against an attack. The question was could she defend against her own desire?

      It might be smarter to get into bed and be in a deep sleep by the time Dorian returned to the room. Though cowardly, that was the wise thing to do. Her stomach grumbled in protest. “Oh, fine.”

      She washed her face in the cool water, changed out of her traveling clothes, and put on a clean gown suited to supping in a coaching house. It was the least ornate dress she owned, but the rich blue suited her and the deep neckline delighted the opposite sex. Would her companion find her attractive?

      It’s irrelevant.

      Lillian brushed and twisted her long hair into a severe chignon before making her way out of the room and down to the main floor where beer and stories were flowing in great quantities.

      She disregarded the brief silence, which punctuated her arrival in the tavern. Dorian and the inn keeper met her halfway across the room.

      He led them to a private room where a small feast was served by a buxom waitress who seemed intent on rubbing all of her endowments against Dorian at every opportunity. It annoyed Lillian to no end, though she couldn’t imagine why.

      The server walked back into the main dining room.

      “You look quite lovely in that dress,” he said.

      “Thank you.”

      “You also looked as if you might draw your weapon on the poor serving girl.”

      Damn. “You are mistaken, sir. I was merely thinking about Shafton.”

      If he knew she was lying, he did nothing to push the issue further.

      After they’d finished the meal, he offered his hand and led her back to their room. Lillian’s heart raced. “Please wait in the hall until I change for the night.”

      “Of course, my lady.”

      He opened the door to the room, and she crossed the threshold. “I am no one’s lady, my lord.”

      His grin sent a shiver straight to her belly and lower, and after the door closed, his presence still warmed her.

      It only took her a few minutes to remove the gown. She had all her clothing designed for ease and functionality. She’d never required a lady’s maid to dress or undress, nor did skirts and stays hinder her in battle. Yet she could pass for a fine lady if the need arose, as it often did.

      She pulled the pins out of her hair and let the long locks fall around her shoulders. In only her chemise, she slid under the blanket. “You may enter.”

      The knob turned and Dorian entered the room. He stopped when he saw her, eased the door shut, and bolted it. He never took his gaze away from her. “I shall sleep on the floor.”

      She studied the dusty wood planks and up at him.

      He tugged at his cravat until the cloth hung loose around his neck, then sat to pull off his riding boots.

      “I do not think you will get much rest on the hard floor.”

      He stopped and looked at her. “What do you suggest?”

      She scooted to one side of the bed. “Sleep on top of the blankets. I’m not concerned you will try to rape me, Dorian.”

      He left his trousers and blouse on and approached the bed. Her heart was near to pounding out of her breast. It was a sensible offer, and yet she wondered if she’d made a misjudgment.

      The intensity of his gaze was enough to warm her entire body.

      “You are correct in that I never take what is not offered freely and with some enthusiasm, Lilly.”

      “Then we should be able to pass the night together without my having to kill you.” Her voice sounded strained. Had he heard it?

      If so, he was too much a gentleman to say anything. Dorian sat and put out the lantern before stretching out beside her. The heat of his body seeped through the bedding, warming her from top to bottom. It was going to be a lengthy night.

      The waxing moon shone through the window. He turned his head and met her stare. “I think it will be a long night.”

      She giggled. “I should lie and tell you that you are being a foolish man, but I cannot. It is uncomfortable to share a bed with a stranger.”

      “Is that what we are?”

      “I barely know you.” Her heart jumped.

      He smiled and rolled to his side, facing her. “And yet, I feel I have known you for years.”

      “How so?”

      “My brother, Brice, often writes me about his students. You were the topic of many stories when he trained you. Those letters got me through many desperate nights.”

      He had an advantage over her. Her instincts told her to move away, but there was no place to go in the small bed, and the notion of spending the night on the floor did not appeal to her. “Where were you?”

      “I had a commission in the army.”

      “You fought the French?”

      “Do not sound so surprised. France abandoned my family while England gave us a home. My loyalties are quite clear.”

      “Interesting.”

      He smiled. “Tell me about your suspicions of Shafton. We can talk until I am too tired to think about your stunning body lying just inches away under the blanket.”

      His nearness distracted her from the seething anger that often returned at the mention of Shafton’s name. “You saw how he reacted during the meeting. Why would he become so unreasonable unless he had something to hide?”

      “He is tasked with gaining intelligence. Perhaps he was merely deflecting the blame. He has had little success in finding vital information.”

      Normally she’d feel the rise of fire in her belly. Anyone who defended that miserable nobleman was asking for a scolding from Lillian. Even so, his calm voice in the moonlight, the warmth of his body so close to hers, and the intimacy of the setting, it was as if a balm fell over her. “I believe there is more to it. Why does he not acknowledge his daughter’s life was saved or that the master was damaged in the ascension?”

      “He did say he felt you had made the wrong choice in saving the countess rather than focusing on destroying the ritual.” He pushed a stray hair back from her cheek.

      The touch set her body on fire. She swallowed the lump clogging her throat. “Do you believe that, Dorian?”

      He closed his eyes briefly. Was he as affected by their closeness as she was? His dark gaze trapped her. “I have read the report several times. I don’t see how you could have acted in any other way. I believe Belinda was and is too valuable to The Company to be sacrificed without the assurance her death would bring us victory. Also, she was necessary to the success of the ascension. By removing her, you succeeded in damaging the master.”

      He opened his mouth as if to say more, then closed it again and sighed.

      “And?”

      He leaned in until his lips were only an inch from hers. “And the sound of my name on your lips in our current setting is the sweetest thing I have ever heard.”

      She tried to back away, but the wall behind her gave her nowhere to go. “Dorian, I…”

      He kissed the tip of her nose and smiled. “I know, Lilly, but you asked.”

      Did he really know how much she was torn between giving her body to him and tossing him from the room for their protection? Could he possibly understand her in so short a time? Her closest friends didn’t comprehend her adversity to romantic relationships or people with noble backgrounds. “I think we should try to sleep.”

      “Roll