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breach, the building pleasure of his touch. He could see her working toward orgasm and he was mesmerized by it.
    “Paul,” she whispered, her eyes going wide just as she went over the edge. Her body spasmed around his fingers and her back arched as she let out a low, keening cry. He continued to work at her, drawing the pleasure out for both their benefit, and only withdrew when she collapsed, weak and spent, against the settee cushions.
    He stared down at her, her eyes filled with satiated drowsiness. She smiled up at him.
    “Thank you,” she whispered. “Oh, I’m so glad to have felt such a thing.”
    The words seeped into him. She meant them, of course. He could see that she did. But the reality of what he had just done was becoming increasingly clear. Paul did not act impulsively. He had not done so for years. But touching Georgina, claiming her, even in this small scale, was impulsive beyond his wildest imaginings.
    Now she looked at him in pleasure, but certainly tomorrow she would regret allowing him such liberties. When she took a husband and that man was not the first to pleasure her, she would think of Paul not with kindness, but regret.
    What had he been thinking allowing his unrequited feelings for this woman to make him forget his place?
    “I’m sorry, Georgina,” he murmured as he smoothed her gown back over her legs and stood. He offered her a hand to stand up and she took it with a blank, confused expression.
    “Sorry?” she repeated as she watched him back away. He didn’t trust himself to stand so close, not when he could smell her on his fingers. Taste her on his lips. “Why are you sorry?”
    “I went too far—”
    “No!” she gasped out, the high color of release leaving her cheeks in an instant, replaced by chalky paleness.
    “Yes, Georgina,” he said softly.
    She stared at him for a long moment and her emotions flitted across her face as plainly as if they had been written in the darkest ink. He saw pain, disappointment, embarrassment.
    He had done this to her. Because he hadn’t been in control of himself as he should have been. Because he had wanted to take pleasure from giving her the same. And oh, how he had.
    But it had been a selfish act in the end.
    “You don’t want me.” She turned away. “I did something wrong, I’m not experienced enough or pretty enough or—”
    He stepped toward her with a gasp. “No, that isn’t it.” With a shiver, he reached out to touch her arm and turned her to face him once more. “Georgina, I swear to you, there is nothing wrong with you. I was wrong.”
    “But what about everything you said before ?” she pressed.
    He shook his head. “All true, I fear. I do care for you, Georgina. And I did want to do this for you. I wanted to do it for me. But I should have thought it through. I was my duty to you to think it through.”
    “Paul—” she began, but he cut her off.
    “I am a practical man, Georgina. I must be. I know my place in this world and I’m not ashamed of it.” He tilted his head, looking at her closely. Drinking her in. “But your father would never accept me.”
    She sucked in a breath as if she finally understood how deeply Paul cared. He wished she didn’t. It made him feel exposed. And it was not a set of emotions that would end in anything but disappointment.
    “We could talk to him,” she suggested, but her voice was weak.
    He smiled at her gently and reached out to trace her silken cheek with his rough finger. “Talk until you are blue, Georgina. We both know he doesn’t even like us to be friends, let alone for me to offer for you. And he is right that you deserve more than anything I could give. No, we had this moment.” He shook his head. “I stole this moment, Georgina. But it was selfish of me to do so and I hope you can forgive me.”
    She stared at him for so long without speaking that he was about to move on her a second time. But finally she straightened up, steel coming into her eyes, and