“I know what she wrote.” He lifted his head to look at her. “Why, Anna? Why did you visit Charlotte?”

“Because she was obviously ill-suited to be your bride. Someone had to watch out for her interests.”

A frown settled between his brows. “And you were going to help her?”

“Something like that,” Anna said uneasily. “I just wanted her to be able to stand up for herself. I thought it would make her better suited to be your countess.”

“What you made her is obstinate.” He cursed softly, his eyes glinting. “Do you have any idea what you did, you and your interfering?”

She hadn’t interfered. She’d helped. And once Greyley wed Charlotte, he would be glad she had—though the thought brought Anna no pleasure, only pain.

She couldn’t think about that unless she wanted to burst into tears in front of Anthony. And that, she vowed, would never happen.

She risked a glance at him through her lashes. He was regarding her with a peculiar mixture of frustration and something else…something like…desire. For an instant Anna imagined what it would be like to have Anthony make love to her, to be with her and no one else. The thought warmed her, swelling her breasts and peaking her nipples, making her skin quiver in anticipation.

The time had long come for her to leave. Lily was more than capable of taking care of the children, and Anthony would be marrying Charlotte soon. Nothing held Anna at Greyley.

The thought was strangely freeing, and to still the emptiness of her heart, she lifted her mouth to his. He froze for a moment, startled. But she didn’t let that deter her. She increased her efforts, slipping the tip of her tongue over his lower lip.

He moaned and opened his mouth, the kiss searing. Heat flared and Anna wanted more. She wanted Anthony with her, beside her, inside her. She wanted to leave Greyley House with something that was just hers…a memory of a moment when she was more than just the governess.

Anthony groaned against her mouth, his hands tangling in her hair. Anna lifted her hips and rubbed them against his, instinct pressing her further and further. Anthony broke the kiss and lifted himself on one elbow. He untied her gown and tugged it down until only her thin chemise separated them. Then he was undoing his own cravat.

Within moments, his coat, cravat and shirt lay on the floor. Anna splayed her fingers over his skin, savoring the feel of him, of his warm skin, of his muscled body. Every inch of her trembled with excitement as he undid the lacing on her chemise and bared her breasts.

His gaze flickered to hers. “I’ve dreamed of this.”

“So have I.”

He kissed her, his mouth devouring hers, his hands on her arms, her breasts, teasing her nipples to readiness. Anna ached against him, wanting more. Needing more. Anthony lifted just enough to pull her dress and chemise free and then she was naked beneath him.