His Sinful Touch

It wasn’t relief that sent little sparks shooting down her nerves when he smiled at her. Nor was it safety that made her insides warm just now as she watched him walking toward the house, long-legged and lean. Everything about him—the thick black hair, the soaring cheekbones, the dark slashes of his eyebrows above clear green eyes—drew her. Even the sound of his voice was somehow stirring.

It was all disturbing...yet perversely delightful, as well. Even now, just thinking about him, she felt that same heat blossom deep inside her, aching and hungry. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, to have his arms slide around her in a way that wasn’t about comfort or security at all. Her skin tingled at the thought of his touch.

Was this usual? Was this normal? It didn’t feel so. It felt strange and exciting. But perhaps it was quite familiar to her. How was she to know? Perhaps she was a woman of experience, and that was simply something else she’d forgotten. Perhaps she was a wanton.

She had no way of knowing, any more than she could be certain of anything about herself. She believed that she was a good person, that she had lived a pleasant, harmless life. But how could she be sure?

A quiet knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and a maid came in. Sabrina stood up, and the maid came over to kneel at her feet, beginning to measure and pin along the bottom of the skirt.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name,” Sabrina said.

“Prudence, miss,” the girl said.

“I apologize for causing so much work.”

“Oh, there’s always something to do round the house,” Prudence responded cheerfully. “I like the sewing better than some things. I’m hoping to be a ladies’ maid one day.” She sighed. “Though then I’d have to leave Broughton House. The duchess has Sadie already, and the marchioness don’t use one.”

“I take it you enjoy working here?”

“Oh, yes, miss. Mr. Phipps is a stickler—you have to do your work well. But he’s fair. And the family is kind, even if they are a wee bit...different. There’s some that think their ways are too odd. But the animals don’t bother me, and even if I don’t understand a lot of what she says, I don’t mind when the duchess goes on about voting and sanitation and such. And it’s not fair to say Lady Thisbe blows things up. There was just that one little fire in her workroom.”

“I see.” Sabrina pressed her lips firmly together to keep from laughing.

“You have to be careful not to touch the duke’s old pots and such, of course. And Lord Bellard gets upset if you move his little men.”

“His little men?”

“The toy soldiers he has set up—a terrible lot of them.”

“Lord Bellard? There’s another child living here?”

“Oh, no, miss, Lord B’s old—he’s the duke’s uncle. He’s sweet, really, even if he never remembers your name. For myself, I’m happy not to have to dust all those little things—or the duke’s pieces of plates and cups. Some say the Morelands are too free and easy, but I like it that they don’t have their noses in the air. Everyone here gets a day off every week, not just every other, and they pay more than anyone else. The duchess insists.”

“They have been very kind to me.”

Prudence looked up at Sabrina. “Is it true what they say, miss? That Lord Alex found you and you can’t remember your name?”

“Well, I think I found him, but yes, I don’t remember my name or anything else.”

“My...” She let out a long sigh. “Isn’t that a wonder?”

“A wonder?” Sabrina glanced at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“It’d be grand, wouldn’t it, to be whoever you wanted? Choose your own name, where you lived, what you liked?” Prudence sat back on her heels, surveying her work with satisfaction. “There you go, miss. We can start on the next, if you’d like.”

Sabrina stared at her, struck by the girl’s words. Perhaps she was looking at her situation all wrong. Her slate was wiped clean. It didn’t matter what kind of person she had been in the past. Starting today, she could be whoever she wanted. She and she alone could decide how she wanted to act, what she wanted to be, what she thought and felt and did. She could, in short, create herself.

She should be excited, not scared. What lay before her wasn’t a deep abyss, but a limitless horizon. “Yes,” she said, a smile curving her lips. “Let’s begin.”

Chapter Five

SABRINA SPENT MUCH of the afternoon trying on dress after dress while Prudence pinned the hems. However, she was sure the trouble was worth it when she saw Alex’s expression as she walked down the stairs that evening dressed as a woman. She wore a lavender silk gown that belonged to Olivia and hadn’t needed to be hemmed. Though it was largely devoid of ornamentation, it nipped in at the waist and flared to a small bustle in back, showing off her figure to perfection. The wide neckline bared her throat and much of her shoulders.

Alex’s eyes widened, growing suddenly brighter, and he jumped up from the bench where he sat and went to her, reaching up a hand to her as she came down the final two steps. “Women’s clothes become you.”

He leaned in closer, his smile small and intimate, and Sabrina thought for an instant that he was going to kiss her. Fortunately, he did not try, for she had the deep suspicion that she would have kissed him back, and that thought was even more unnerving than the light in his eyes. Kissing, she realized, was not something she was accustomed to doing, no matter how licentious her thoughts had been this afternoon.

Dinner was a small affair, with only Alex and his parents and his small, quiet uncle, Theo and Megan having a prior engagement. Sabrina was grateful. She had been nervous at the thought of meeting a duke, who surely would be more intimidating than a duchess.

However, as it turned out, the duke was a genial man—and very easy to engage in conversation. As long as she smiled and nodded now and then, he was happy to keep up a monologue about Roman and Greek architecture, artifacts, history—indeed, anything to do with ancient Greece and Rome. The fact that she understood only two-thirds of what he said was apparently not a drawback. Uncle Bellard gave her a shy smile and said nothing at all.

When the meal was over, they all lingered around the table, talking, which, memory-less as she was, Sabrina was quite sure was not the normal course of things. None of them even seemed to find it odd when the duchess had a glass of brandy along with the men.

She was grateful when Alex glanced across at her and smiled, then said, “Scintillating as I’m sure our conversation is, I suspect our guest is beginning to flag. It’s been a very long, hard day.”

Sabrina politely protested, but the duchess nodded. “Yes, of course. It’s wicked of us to keep you up, child.”

“I’ll walk you back to your room,” Alex offered.

“Perhaps you should. I got lost coming down to dinner, I’m afraid.” She stood, taking the arm he offered.

“I hope you didn’t get too lost,” Alex said as they left the room and headed toward the stairs.

“No, I wound up in the nursery wing, apparently, and the little girls’ nurse set me straight.”

“Aside from that, I hope you’ve had no problems.”

“None at all,” Sabrina quickly assured him. “Everyone has been most kind.” Even Megan had not been unpleasant about not trusting her. “I’m very grateful. I don’t know what I’d have done if your mother hadn’t taken me in. I’ve tried all afternoon to remember something, but my mind remains a blank.” She looked up at him. “Will we be able to find out who I am? Is it hopeless?”

“Not at all. You mustn’t think that. Megan already called on one of her reporter friends and set that in motion. If they hear anything pertinent, they’ll let her know. And she has other contacts. I’ve set the agency’s employee to checking out the train station, just in case someone has been there searching for you. He’s also looking around in some other areas.”

“Where? How does he know where to look?”

“Oh...well, he’ll hang about where servants might congregate, the market or taverns or such, to pick up any gossip about a lady gone missing.”

“I see.” Sabrina had the oddest feeling he was holding something back. “What can I do? I want to help.”

She expected him to tell her she could not, so she had marshaled her arguments in favor of it. But to her surprise, he merely nodded and said, “Of course. We can talk to Kyria tomorrow, see if she has any idea who you are. She and Mother and Megan are doing something, so she’ll be here in the morning.”

Sabrina realized that they were walking very slowly, dawdling as if they didn’t want to reach her bedchamber. Which was, of course, the truth, at least for her. She sneaked a sideways glance up at Alex and found him watching her.

They reached the doorway to her chamber and turned to face each other. Sabrina was intensely aware of everything about Alex. She wished she could think of something to keep him here.

“Sabrina...”

“Yes?” Did she sound too eager? She could feel her cheeks begin to flush, and her breathing was shorter and faster. His eyes were dark in the low glow of the hallway sconces; she couldn’t read them. But there was a softness to his features, a certain loosening of his mouth, that made her feel both twitchy and achy.

“I, um...” He reached out, but he only touched her shoulder and slid down her arm and away. He swallowed and took a step back. “If you need anything, I’m just down the hall.”

Sabrina nodded, doing her best to hide her sag of disappointment. “Good night.”

Impulsively he wrapped one hand around her arm and bent, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I’m glad you are here.”

He turned without looking at her and walked away, disappearing around the corner.

* * *

HE WAS RUNNING, his feet flying, his heart pounding in a wild mix of excitement and fear. They were right behind him. Freedom beckoned just beyond the dark chasm. One leap and he’d be over. Safe. One leap.

His muscles bunched, and he flew across, but the emptiness beneath him was suddenly wide and fathomless. He grabbed for the other side, but there was nothing to hold on to. He plummeted into the darkness...

Alex shot straight up in bed, drawing in breath in a desperate gasp. He was suddenly starkly awake. His skin was slick with sweat, his lungs heaving as if he had indeed been running. Though it was from the same time—the escape, the mad dash across the roof and jumping across to the roof beyond—it was not the old familiar nightmare of being locked in a room. Nor the slightly different one he had been dreaming lately. But it was, he realized with a sudden vivid clarity, the dream that he had last night, the one he could not remember but that had haunted his morning.

Throwing back the covers, he jumped out of bed and hastily pulled on the trousers he’d thrown across the chair the night before. He grabbed a shirt as he went out the door, shrugging into it as he walked swiftly down the hall. Just as he turned the corner, Sabrina’s door opened and she rushed out.

“Alex!” She flung herself across the feet between them, and he wrapped his arms around her, curling his head down over hers.

“Shh. It’s all right,” he murmured, one hand moving soothingly up and down her back. “You’re safe.”

Sabrina’s body trembled, and her arms were tight around him, pressing herself flush against him. She was soft and lithe beneath his hand, her black curls tickling the naked strip of skin between the open sides of his shirt. He pressed his lips against her head, and the sweet perfume of her hair filled his nostrils.

Alex ached to comfort her, to protect her, and yet an entirely different ache was growing in him. She wore only a cotton nightgown, and his shirt was open, the top button of his trousers still unfastened. Their bodies were as close together as they could be and still be clad. He was acutely aware of the feel of her against him, the warmth of her body, her breasts pressing into his flesh, the length of her legs against his.

He should release her. Step back. Or at least stop caressing her.

Sabrina lifted her head to look up at him. Her soft dark curls tumbled entrancingly, her eyes were huge and dark in the dim light, her lips soft. And suddenly he was kissing her. Her mouth opened beneath his, her arms lifting to curl around his neck. She was pliant in his arms, her body melting into his in a way that stirred him even more. Nightmares, good intentions, notions of propriety—all fled before the heat and hunger welling up in him.

Changing the angle of their lips, he kissed her again, his hands gliding down over the soft swell of her buttocks, lifting her up and into him. She made a small noise of surprise deep in her throat, and the sound checked him.

In that instant, he recalled where they stood and the many doors along the hall. At any moment one or the other of his infernally curious family might take it into their heads to pop out. The duke slept like the dead, but his mother did not, and the thought of what his mother might say was enough to freeze his overheated blood. This was wrong on so many levels. Sabrina was here so that he could protect her, not seduce her. She was frightened and alone. He’d be a scoundrel to take advantage of that. And, however little he might want to admit it, she might be married.

He lifted his head, his arms relaxing around her. It took another moment, another steadying breath, to step back. “I—” His voice came out a croak and he started again. “I’m sorry. Forgive me. I shouldn’t have...”

Alex shoved his hands back through his hair, fingertips pressing into his scalp as if to awaken his brain. He glanced around and was relieved to see that the corridor in either direction was still and empty.

Taking Sabrina’s hand, he whisked her into her bedchamber, closing the door softly behind him. This, of course, was more dangerous territory, but he had to talk to her and he could not risk being seen with her dressed like this in the middle of the night. Even his tolerant relatives had their limits.

“Here, sit down.” He led her to an overstuffed armchair, sitting down himself on the hassock in front of the chair. Taking both her hands in his, he said earnestly, “Deeply, sincerely, I do beg your pardon. I didn’t intend—I wouldn’t ever—You are just so beautiful. Not, of course, that it was in any way your fault,” he added hastily. “It was entirely me.”

“Not entirely.” Her voice was soft but droll, as well.

Alex looked at her sharply and saw that her eyes were twinkling. She giggled, and he relaxed and sat back. “At any rate, it was wrong of me, and I do apologize. Now, as I should have asked you to begin with, what frightened you? A nightmare?”

“Yes.” All amusement fled her face. “It was dreadful. I dreamed that I was falling.”

“Falling?” he repeated, startled.

She nodded. “I know that doesn’t sound so awful, but I was terrified. I was trying to get away from something, someone, I’m not sure what. It was all rather fuzzy. I climbed out a window, I think—it’s already fading away. Someone was reaching for me, and I tumbled out into the darkness. I was falling. I couldn’t breathe. I—” Sabrina stopped and drew a breath, her voice calmer but still shaky as she went on. “Then I woke up.”

Alex stared at her, too astonished to speak. They had both just dreamed of falling? Yes, the Morelands tended to have strange dreams, but how could this happen? Had she somehow entered his dream, experiencing his climbing out the window and racing across the roof?

“Do you think that’s what happened to me?” Sabrina lifted her hand up to the bruise on her forehead. “I fell out of a window and hit my head?”

It seemed logical. It occurred to him that perhaps his dream hadn’t been about his escape years ago at all. Maybe he had just assumed it was, his mind making the logical connection to the time he had escaped as a child and that frightening leap between rooftops. Could he have somehow experienced Sabrina’s dream? That must be utter nonsense. Yet...

“Alex?” Sabrina said tentatively.

“What? Oh.” He realized that he had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn’t answered her. “Sorry. Just trying to reason all this out.” He could hardly tell her his thoughts; she would be certain he was utterly mad. “Yes, to answer your question. It does seem possible, even likely, that you fell yesterday and hit your head. I would think one very well might dream about a frightening experience. I have done so myself.”

“Really?”

He nodded, his thoughts once again going to his dream. He had sensed Sabrina’s presence this morning, but more than that, even before he saw her, he had felt her distress and confusion. If he could sense that something was wrong with her, as he was able to with his twin, perhaps tonight the terror of her dream had touched him, even in his sleep, causing him to dream something similar. Following that line of reasoning, his nightmare the night before might have been caused by Sabrina’s actual fall. It made sense—in a very peculiar way.

“The thing is,” Alex mused, “if you fell from a window and knocked yourself out, why didn’t someone find you? If you were being chased, wouldn’t the people chasing you take the opportunity to seize you? And if you were running away from your home and fell trying to climb down from your window, surely whoever was waiting for you would have seen it and come to your aid.”

“Waiting for me? What do you... Oh, I see, you mean if I were eloping, then he would have been outside.” She paused, thinking. “If that was the reason I left, it would explain that ring and why it was in my pocket instead of on my hand. I was secretly engaged, intending to get married. Maybe he wasn’t there. I was going to meet him somewhere. Only, I fell, hit my head and lost my memory. Still, as you said, whoever was reaching for me would have seen it and taken the opportunity to catch me.”

“True.” He thought for a moment. “Maybe that person wasn’t real but something your brain conjured up, a symbol of the pursuit you feared would follow.”

“So perhaps everyone was still asleep, and I came to before anyone was out of bed. Is that when I forgot who I was?”

“I don’t know. All we’re sure of is that you’d lost your memory by the time you reached London. But, whether you awoke from the fall not knowing who you were or it came to you later, when you awakened, you were aware that you must run. You sensed that someone was after you, so you took off. The same reasoning would apply whether you were eloping or a rebellious miss running off to visit her friend in London, or a schoolgirl escaping from some young ladies’ academy.” Another possibility, that she was a mistreated wife looking to escape her brute of a husband. He didn’t want to think about that.

“True.” Sabrina looked relieved. “It doesn’t have to have been that I was eloping. But why didn’t someone come after me? Wouldn’t they have searched for me?”

“We don’t know that they didn’t.” Alex wished he could call back the words when a new worry bloomed in Sabrina’s eyes.

“Of course. You’re right. They could have followed my trail. They could be here in London searching for me.”

“No need to worry about that,” he said hastily. “Even if they assumed you fled to London, how would they know where you went once you got here?”

“The driver?”

“Let’s say they questioned the driver of every hack at Paddington, the most they could possibly learn is that you’d gone to the agency. Tom Quick won’t reveal where you are, and Con isn’t even here. No, if they think you’ve gone to London, then they’re most likely to go to your friend who wrote the letter in your pocket. She will know nothing about you. Or if you come to London frequently, they’ll go to the places you normally go.”

“And I won’t be there.”

“Exactly.”

She smiled and reached out to squeeze his hand. “Thank you.”

His pulse leaped at her touch. It was mad that even so small a thing could stir him. He wanted to turn his hand over and clasp hers. Well, frankly, what he wanted to do was to pull her over into his lap and kiss her again.

“It’s, uh...” he began before realizing he had no idea what he was going to say. “Very late. We should probably go to bed.” His face warmed. “That is to say, we should sleep. I’m sure you’re tired.”

Sabrina was just looking at him, her eyes huge and serious. She was so lovely it took his breath away. And she was still wearing only a nightgown. He could see the soft rise of her breasts beneath the thin material, even the hint of the darker circle of her nipples. She had curled her legs up onto the chair, and the nightgown had fallen away a little, revealing her ankles. He could not keep from thinking about reaching out and sliding his hand up, pushing the material higher, her skin smooth beneath his fingertips.

Alex jumped to his feet. “There’s no reason to be afraid.”

“I’m not.”

“It was just a dream—nothing will hurt you here. And I’ll be right down the hall. You can call if you need me.” Why couldn’t he stop babbling?

He swung away and found himself facing her bed. The covers were tossed aside invitingly, the sheets rumpled where she had lain. His mouth went dry as dust. He couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. He wanted to touch her so much the very skin of his palms tingled.

Sabrina rose to her feet, and Alex turned back to her. She was close to him; it would be only a matter of reaching out and taking her arm. Pulling her to him. He remembered in vivid detail each moment of that kiss earlier. Her taste. Her warmth. Her softness.

“Good night,” he said hoarsely and hurried from the room.

Chapter Six

SABRINA HUMMED TO herself as she fastened the buttons down the front of her shirtwaist. It was doubtless peculiar to feel so cheerful this morning after the bad dream last night, but that nightmare had been overwhelmed by the feel of Alex’s arms around her afterward. Alex’s kiss.

She smiled to herself. However little she might remember of her past, she was certain she had never felt anything as delightful. When she’d jerked awake and run from her room, she had acted instinctively, simply getting away. But when she saw Alex, she knew that what she was seeking was the safety and strength of his arms.

His embrace had provided that, warming and calming her, but as she stood pressed against him, she had become aware of much more than feeling safe. Her skin had tingled, and the feel of his body against hers, nothing but the thin cotton of her nightgown between them, had stirred her.

Lean and long, Alex was all bone and hard muscle. His shirt had hung open, unbuttoned, so her face had been pressed against his bare chest, his flesh on hers. She could smell the scent of his skin, subtle and slightly musky, and hear the rhythm of his heart. She’d felt his body suddenly flare with heat.

Sabrina had known what that flush meant, for she felt it racing through her own veins. Innately she understood the subtle signs—the almost infinitesimal alteration in his scent, the ragged draw of his breath, the way his muscles tightened. He desired her.

She had lifted her head, wanting to see his face. Wanting, if truth be known, for him to kiss her. And he had. Thinking about it, her lips curled up dreamily. His kiss had melted her, turned her quivering and mindless, for a moment a creature entirely devoid of thought or will, recognizing only the desire pouring through her. Looking back on it, it seemed a little alarming. At the time, it had been utterly right.

Perhaps she would come to regret it. It would be difficult to look at him today without blushing. If he counted her as less because of her response, she would rue it. But for those few moments, she had lived in a perfect world of pleasure. The truth was, right now she wanted nothing more than to return to it.

Sabrina pulled on her skirt and buttoned it up the side. One of the best attributes of Megan’s clothes was the ease with which one could dress oneself—buttons where one could reach them easily, fewer petticoats and only the smallest amount of padding in the back to form a bustle. Best of all, she could wear them without having to tighten herself into a corset first.