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looking forward to trying. ‘You were very
brave to venture out alone.’
    ‘Brave?’ she
repeated in a whisper. He thought the look she cast him was rueful.
‘I only wish I were.’
    He realized he
still had his arm about her. That she was looking up at him in
almost childish entreaty and that she had made no effort to pull
away. She was so very lovely. Far lovelier even than he’d imagined
she’d be before she washed her face. And she certainly did not
recoil from his embrace. He sensed she desired their closeness as
much as he.
    When she
caught her breath at another roll of thunder he relished the chance
to hold her tighter. Acknowledging the potential danger of their
situation, he released her with a sigh. ‘Come, I’ll take you back
to your room.’
    She clung to
his hand, resisting as he drew her along with him. Her face looked
ashen in the next flash of light.
    ‘Please don’t
leave me alone,’ she whispered, when they reached her bedchamber.
‘I am so terrified of storms.’
    ‘It’ll pass
soon enough,’ he soothed. Reluctant though he was to say goodnight,
he knew they couldn’t remain freezing in the passage much longer.
Well, he wasn’t freezing; his blood was fairly up just at the sight
of her, but he could feel her shivering.
    She closed her
eyes, took a deep breath as she put her hand on the door knob and
asked, ‘You’ll not lock me in?’
    ‘Lock you in
your room?’ he repeated, trying to understand her.
    ‘Good God, is
that what your parents did?’
    She shook her
head. ‘Not my parents,’ she said, leaning against the door as if
she were rallying all her fortitude. Another crack of thunder sent
her lurching back into his arms and as she fixed him with her
extraordinary luminous blue eyes he knew he was undone. That he was
as enslaved as any man could be when she begged him in a low voice,
‘Please don’t leave me alone.’
    He needed no
more encouragement. Feeling like a fearless conqueror Max scooped
her up and strode all the way back to his own room. Easing himself
into the large, comfortable armchair by his bed, nicely warmed by
the fire, he settled her across his lap. Her head, heavy with
exhaustion, settled upon his chest and the staccato breaths soon
became regular.
    In minutes she
was asleep.

 
    CHAPTER THREE
    WHERE WAS SHE?
Olivia woke with a start as the maid drew the curtains.
    The girl
bobbed a curtsy. ‘Master said as to leave you to sleep. Sorry,
miss, but morning tea is in half an hour an’ I thought—’
    ‘Is it that
late?’ Olivia cut her off, jumping out of bed and drawing her
borrowed shawl about her shoulders.
    How could she
have managed to sleep at all? she wondered, as she registered that
she was in Mr Atherton’s house. Then she remembered where, exactly,
she had fallen asleep and her hands flew to her flaming cheeks.
    Her heart gave
a painful contraction.
    ‘Julian!’ she
whispered, though her heart threw up a different name. Being
reunited with her son was the reason her heart was behaving so
oddly, she told herself, as she quickly washed and dressed. It had
nothing to do with the boy’s uncle who had merely been kind and
done what any host would to allay the fears of a nervous guest.
    She banished
the memory of his warm embrace. It was too dangerous to relieve the
exquisite sensation of relinquishing her worries in the arms of a
man with honourable intentions. So overwhelming had been the
feeling of comfort and safety that she had fallen asleep almost
immediately. In his bedchamber. But not before she had succumbed to
the comfort of his caress as his long sensitive fingers brushed
rhythmically across her cheek, as if she were a precious child.
    When had she
last felt precious? Or deserved to feel so? she thought, choking
back her self disgust. And that, really, was the crux.
    With brisk,
determined actions, she pulled on her stockings then waited
passively while the maid dressed her.
    Soon she would
see Julian again, and that was all that was