Page 69 of His Sinful Touch

Alex was as silent as she. Were his thoughts straying to the same place? She looked at his hands carving the roast and could not help but think of the way those long, expressive fingers had roamed her body a few hours ago.

Sabrina cleared her throat. “Well, now we know I am not from Baddesly Commons.”

“That groom can tell us where they returned your horse. We’re getting closer.”

She nodded. She wasn’t sure whether that thought made her feel pleased or scared. Whatever it turned out her past had been, she was certain that she had not been as happy in it as she had been these past weeks. How could she have been when Alex was not part of it?

They lapsed into another awkward silence. Sabrina searched for something else to say. “How did you get out of the house undetected?” She frowned. “They didn’t see you, did they?”

“No. What they saw was my mother and I taking a little stroll with you.”

“What?”

He smiled. “I went over the back wall, where they had no one watching. In the meantime, Con pulled them off their post by changing his disguise—including the great sacrifice of shaving his mustache—so that he would look like me. Then he went out for a stroll. They were bound to follow him because Miss Holcutt dressed in your old gown, put on a big hat and accompanied him. The duchess tagged along—to make sure the Dearborns wouldn’t have the nerve to attack them on the street, she said, but in my opinion, she simply wanted to get in on the fun.”

“Lilah?” Sabrina goggled at him. “Lilah pretended to be me?”

“Yes, I was a bit surprised myself.”

“I don’t remember her, so I can’t say for sure, but she didn’t seem the sort to disguise herself and play games with pursuers.”

“She is very...correct. However, I believe her ire was raised. She even offered to go home, change back into herself and tell the Dearborns, when they came looking for you, that you had run off to catch a ship in Southampton. Though I gather the even greater sacrifice was spending twenty minutes with my brother.”

“They didn’t seem to like each other very much,” Sabrina agreed.

“No. Which is a little odd, for Con is in general a more sociable fellow than I, and women usually fall all over themselves trying to get his attention.”

“I’m sure they do—he’s very handsome.”

His eyes lit with humor. “Why, Sabrina, you’ll make me blush.”

Sabrina, realizing the unintentional compliment she had given him, felt a telltale blush blooming on her own cheeks, but she said tartly, “It would be silly, wouldn’t it, to deny what is so obvious to everyone. Including yourself.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t tease you.” He reached out to take her hand.

“No, I like it when you tease,” she replied honestly, then her eyes widened as she realized the double meaning of her words. Alex went very still. Suddenly the familiar ease that had sprung up between them the past few moments was gone. His skin against her hand flared with heat, and the very air between them seemed to tremble. Whatever thoughts had been in Sabrina’s head vanished.

His hand moved on hers, his fingers stroking across hers with a featherlight touch. She felt the whisper of the touch all through her, the simple sensual movement warming her to her core. Alex continued to gaze into her eyes, and she could look away no more than he could.

“I like it, too.” His voice was husky.

Though she did not move, everything in her yearned toward him. His mouth softened, his eyes burning into hers. Then, with a low noise of frustration, Alex jerked his hand back and rose to his feet.

“No, I cannot. I will not.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned aside and looked at the door rather than her. “You need not worry.”

“I’m not worried.”

He ignored her words, plowing on. “No doubt you’re tired. I’ll go for a walk to clear my head. It will give you time to, um, change and...all that. You will probably be asleep when I come up, so I’ll say good-night to you now.”

With a punctiliously correct bow to her, he strode out of the room. Sabrina sat for a long moment, looking after him. She had meant it when she said she didn’t worry; she knew Alex would do whatever it took to protect her honor, even from himself. The question, though, was...did she want him to?

Sabrina picked up her glass and drank the rest of the wine as she mused on the night ahead. She could do as Alex said—get washed and change into her nightgown and be in bed before he returned. She might even fall asleep, or at least pretend to, and that would make the situation less strained. Or she could do something else entirely.

She left the dining room, deep in thought. She thought of Alex and how little time she had known him. She thought of what lay in the future—the possibilities and practicalities, the pain and heartbreak and happiness that danced before her like a mirage. It was hard, she thought, to conceive of the future when she had so little of a past. Her life, as it had been the past several weeks, was in the here and now.

The smart thing, the reasonable thing, was to exercise caution, to feel one’s way forward like a man creeping through the dark. How could she know what she felt, who she would be a day from now, a week from now, when she recovered her memory? On the other hand, was she to sacrifice her happiness on the altar of what might be?

She thought of the memory she had had of her father this afternoon. She had not known he was her father because she recognized him physically. It was simply that she knew him—in her heart and soul, her spirit. She had known him in her blood and bones, not with her eyes, not with her mind. It was the feeling that had come back to her, the emotion. That was what was important, wasn’t it?