that way.”
Hands reaching for her. Gently closing on her shoulders. Turning her, so that her hips now rested against the well.
He caressed her arms down to her hands, and pinned them wide apart on the ledge, leaving her spread and vulnerable, and standing so close that his chest brushed her breasts. “Something most definitely passes between us, Joan. At the very least, a very promising pleasure does.”
He kissed her neck, then her ear, then her mouth.
More than promising. Astounding. It flowed and tingled and sunk low quickly, as if she had been waiting for it. She realized that she had. Anticipation had been a part of her worry and her fear, and even her anger, complicating all of her emotions.
Craving impulses awoke, and grew and grew. He gently bit her lower lip, demanding more.
It frightened her. A chilling sadness intruded on the pleasure, as though invisible hands pulled her out of it. She could never permit what he wanted. Neither the past nor the future would let her.
He stopped, as if he sensed her retreat. His hands caressed her arms up to her shoulders. “You are a confounding woman.”
“Perhaps I am just a virtuous woman. There are a few left in the world.”
“I do not think of these things in such commonplace ways, Joan. I don't believe that you do, either. But if I am wrong, and I offend your virtue, say so. Look me in the eyes and say that you think this is sin, and I will never touch you again.”
She could not. He would hear the lack of conviction and know that she lied. Her ideas about right and wrong, about virtue, had long ago been abandoned. This was not wrong in that way. If anything it was too right.
Rhys took her face in both his hands.
“You think that you know what this is , Joan. I am more curious about what this might be.”
His rough, gentle hands reminded her of the care in the market and at the stocks and in the bath. His words lured her with memories of the bond forged that night and then explored the next day under the tree. The yearning spread intensely. Her heart ached from it so badly that she wanted to weep.
She removed his hands. “I cannot let this be anything more than it is. I will not be staying in London much longer. There are things that I must do soon.”
“What things?”
“Things close to my heart that I do not speak of. I have nothing to give you but the service that you have bought. There is nothing I can take from you except a few nights of shelter.”
“There is friendship and pleasure, in the very least.”
“If I ever lie with a man, it will not be for that.”
“What then? You said you did not want marriage.”
“Nay, definitely not marriage. That bondage is evenmore permanent than the indenture. If I wanted that, I could have had it by now, and spared myself three years in the tile yard.”
“Then for what do you save yourself, if not affection or security?”
I want a man killed .
She almost said it. She came so close that she knew he was weakening her, and luring her to confidences that would jeopardize everything.
“I save myself for myself, and for duties and plans much older than your knowledge of me. I will not let you interfere with them.”
She slipped from between him and the well and began walking back to the house. He fell into step with her.
“We have not settled what services you expect,” she reminded him, seeking refuge in practical things so as to hide her unsteady emotions.
“They will settle themselves. Only I do not think of you as a servant, so do not insist that I treat you as one.”
“Then I am your guest?”
“Since you will not be my lover, I suppose that you are.”
“You offer an odd hospitality. Normal guests can leave.”
“I will not hold you against your will. You can leave when you know where you will be going, and that you will be cared for, and it is not back to the tile yard.”
“Those are a lot of conditions.”
“They are the ones that I set. Buying that indenture gave me
Hands reaching for her. Gently closing on her shoulders. Turning her, so that her hips now rested against the well.
He caressed her arms down to her hands, and pinned them wide apart on the ledge, leaving her spread and vulnerable, and standing so close that his chest brushed her breasts. “Something most definitely passes between us, Joan. At the very least, a very promising pleasure does.”
He kissed her neck, then her ear, then her mouth.
More than promising. Astounding. It flowed and tingled and sunk low quickly, as if she had been waiting for it. She realized that she had. Anticipation had been a part of her worry and her fear, and even her anger, complicating all of her emotions.
Craving impulses awoke, and grew and grew. He gently bit her lower lip, demanding more.
It frightened her. A chilling sadness intruded on the pleasure, as though invisible hands pulled her out of it. She could never permit what he wanted. Neither the past nor the future would let her.
He stopped, as if he sensed her retreat. His hands caressed her arms up to her shoulders. “You are a confounding woman.”
“Perhaps I am just a virtuous woman. There are a few left in the world.”
“I do not think of these things in such commonplace ways, Joan. I don't believe that you do, either. But if I am wrong, and I offend your virtue, say so. Look me in the eyes and say that you think this is sin, and I will never touch you again.”
She could not. He would hear the lack of conviction and know that she lied. Her ideas about right and wrong, about virtue, had long ago been abandoned. This was not wrong in that way. If anything it was too right.
Rhys took her face in both his hands.
“You think that you know what this is , Joan. I am more curious about what this might be.”
His rough, gentle hands reminded her of the care in the market and at the stocks and in the bath. His words lured her with memories of the bond forged that night and then explored the next day under the tree. The yearning spread intensely. Her heart ached from it so badly that she wanted to weep.
She removed his hands. “I cannot let this be anything more than it is. I will not be staying in London much longer. There are things that I must do soon.”
“What things?”
“Things close to my heart that I do not speak of. I have nothing to give you but the service that you have bought. There is nothing I can take from you except a few nights of shelter.”
“There is friendship and pleasure, in the very least.”
“If I ever lie with a man, it will not be for that.”
“What then? You said you did not want marriage.”
“Nay, definitely not marriage. That bondage is evenmore permanent than the indenture. If I wanted that, I could have had it by now, and spared myself three years in the tile yard.”
“Then for what do you save yourself, if not affection or security?”
I want a man killed .
She almost said it. She came so close that she knew he was weakening her, and luring her to confidences that would jeopardize everything.
“I save myself for myself, and for duties and plans much older than your knowledge of me. I will not let you interfere with them.”
She slipped from between him and the well and began walking back to the house. He fell into step with her.
“We have not settled what services you expect,” she reminded him, seeking refuge in practical things so as to hide her unsteady emotions.
“They will settle themselves. Only I do not think of you as a servant, so do not insist that I treat you as one.”
“Then I am your guest?”
“Since you will not be my lover, I suppose that you are.”
“You offer an odd hospitality. Normal guests can leave.”
“I will not hold you against your will. You can leave when you know where you will be going, and that you will be cared for, and it is not back to the tile yard.”
“Those are a lot of conditions.”
“They are the ones that I set. Buying that indenture gave me
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