‘When does Greythorne come?’ he asked.
She glanced up in surprise. ‘You knew of it?’
He nodded.
A faint smile flitted across her face. ‘He cancelled. Postponed, I mean.’
He gazed at her. ‘Let us go somewhere we can talk.’
She went to take her cloak off a hook on the wall. When they walked out, the bedraggled men outside could be heard saying, ‘That’s her!’ and ‘Dash it! He’s cut us out.’
He whisked her away, leading her down the Dark Path. It was dotted with small classical structures where couples could be private. Flynn tried the knob of the first one they came to, and, finding it unlocked, brought her inside. Rushlights lit the interior. A table was set with wine and two glasses.
‘I am guessing this party has been cancelled,’ Flynn said, gesturing to the table. ‘Come.’ He led her to the single chaise-longue, the only place to sit. ‘If they do show up, we will make an apology and leave.’
He unfastened her cloak and laid it aside with his greatcoat, hat and gloves before coming to sit next to her. Taking her hand in his, he pulled off her gloves, one finger at a time.
She could barely breathe for the feel of his bare hand upon hers. ‘Greythorne gave my father money for my company.’
He held both her hands in his.
She stared at them. ‘But … but when the rain came he … begged off. He sent a message. So I do not know when I shall be required to meet him. I do not wish to meet him at all, Flynn!’
He nodded, squeezing her hands. ‘Have no fear. I will think of some way to help.’
Rose gazed at him, feeling relief and something even more powerful. She could not believe he had come to her, rain and all. Now that his hands folded over hers, tethering her with his strength, she had not realised how keenly she needed him.
But he released her and stood, turning his back to her. ‘Lord Tannerton is prepared to better any offer Greythorne makes.’
She bowed her head. Tannerton again. Standing between them. ‘When?’ She felt the gloom descend upon her.
He answered in a low voice. ‘I must go to your father with Tannerton’s offer. If he accepts right away and does not wait for Greythorne to make a counter-offer, then it would still take me a week to make arrangements.’ He turned back to her. ‘Two weeks, perhaps.’
‘Two weeks,’ she whispered.
He came to sit next to her again. ‘There is no other choice, Rose.’
Her mind had accepted this. She wanted to sing. She wanted some day to sing Elvira’s part in Don Giovanni, to be a name everyone knew, like Catalani, and she wanted nothing to stop her. She wanted to live the life her mother had lost.
Only her heart warred with that ambition. Her heart pined for love. For Flynn.
She pulled away from him and rose from the chaise. ‘I do not want to stay here, Flynn. I.I feel as if I am trespassing.’
She bent down to pick up her cape. He came to her and took the cape from her hands, wrapping it around her. He fastened it under her chin and pulled the hood up to cover her head. She had difficulty breathing, he was so near. She dared not lift her chin to look into his eyes, because she wanted so dearly for his eyes to burn with the same desire raging inside her.
But she could not help herself. She tilted her head back. His eyes were dark with passion. The joy of it caused her knees to go weak. All she need do was close the distance between them and place her lips on his. What harm to taste his lips just once? Everyone expected her to be a wanton, why not behave like one now? She longed to be the wanton with Flynn.
‘Flynn,’ she whispered.
Rising on tiptoe, she touched her lips to his, lightly at first. When he did not move away, she slid her arms around his neck and increased the pressure. His lips parted, and she darted her tongue into his mouth where he tasted warm and wet and wonderful.
A low groan escaped him, and as she felt his breath cool her mouth, she grasped him tighter. His arms encircled her and he slammed his body against hers, his fingers pressing into her soft flesh. All sensation raced to where he ground himself against her, urging her on, thrilling her with the feel of his manhood hard beneath his clothes.
He wanted her, it meant. She was glad she’d learned about what was happening to him. And to her.
‘Flynn,’ she repeated, this time with urgency.
One of his hands slid around her body to her breast, rubbing and fondling until Rose thought she would cry out with the pleasure of it.
He unclasped her cloak and let it slide to the ground. Picking her up in his strong arms, he carried her to the chaise. She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his neck, anywhere she could reach.
‘Make love to me, Flynn,’ she begged.
He placed her gently on the chaise and positioned his body over hers. He bent towards her, closer and closer, and she thought she would burst from need of him.
Suddenly he broke away, so abruptly she looked to see if someone had pulled him off her, but there was no one there.
‘You are bewitching me,’ he rasped, grabbing her cloak from the floor. This time he merely tossed it to her and walked over to pick up his greatcoat and hat. ‘I will take you back to the gazebo.’
Outside it rained harder than before. The Dark Walk was darker and more deserted than ever now that the hour had advanced and clouds hid the moon. She could barely see where she was going, and she nearly slipped on the slick path trying to keep up with him.
She reached for him, grabbing his arm. ‘Flynn! Stop.’
He stopped, but did not look at her. ‘Rose, this attempt to seduce me was a mistake, do you understand? It must never happen again.’
‘Seduce you?’ she cried, ‘You seemed willing enough, Flynn. Do not make the fault all mine.’
He turned to her. ‘I will not betray Tanner.’ Even in the darkness she could see his eyes flash at her. She took a step toward him, but he backed away. ‘No, Rose.’
She lifted her trembling chin. ‘You’ve already betrayed him, have you not, Flynn? By wanting me? You cannot be telling me you do not want me, because I know you do.’
‘Wanting and taking are not the same thing,’ he said through gritted teeth.
He started walking again. As she hurried to stay with him, he stopped again, so abruptly she nearly collided with him.
He whirled on her. ‘What I do not understand is why you behave like a loose woman with me, but act as if bedding a marquess would be the worst torture in the world.’
‘A loose woman!’ she cried. ‘Is that what you think of me?’
He did not appear to hear her. ‘Do not tell me you merely want more money, because you do not behave as if you want any money at all. If you wanted another man, it would make sense, but why throw yourself at me—’
‘I did not throw myself at you!’ She swung her hand to slap his face.
He caught her by the wrist.
‘You were the one who chose the Dark Walk, Flynn, who brought me into that room. You chose that private place, and you dare accuse me of being the seductress?’ She tried to twist away, the hood of her cape falling from her head.
He grabbed her other wrist and struggled with her, losing his hat and pulling her closer and closer until her body was flush against his and their faces were only a hair’s breadth away, the need burning in his eyes.
‘How do you explain this, Flynn?’ Her voice shook. ‘I am not throwing myself at you now, am I?’