“Come, sit down.” He guided Natalie to the settee and tried not to notice how perfect she felt nestled in the crook of his arm, her bosom cushioned to his side. Only a cad would be having lusty thoughts when she’d just confessed a horrific experience. “I think you’re remarkably levelheaded, and I admire your pluck. In the space of a few years, your father died, then your best friends. Maybe you’ve kept this experience hidden away simply because you had no one left in whom to confide.”

Hadrian wondered at his own intense empathy for her. As a rule, he avoided speaking about deep sentiment, preferring to use banter and witticisms as a foil. But tonight he craved more than mindless repartee. He wanted to explore the complexities of this woman who had every reason to be wary of men.

Her expression softened, her eyes as luminous as emeralds in the firelight. She angled herself toward him, placing her palm in the center of his chest. That warm, light pressure made his blood sizzle in spite of his firm resolve. “You’re right, Hadrian. There was no one—until you.”

Chapter 14

Natalie wondered at her own boldness. She had not made a conscious decision to touch him; her hand seemed to have a mind of its own. With only the fine cambric of his shirt separating her palm from his bare skin, she reveled in the heat of hard-muscled flesh. It wasn’t like her to make overtures toward a man. Especially not one who was utterly wrong for her.

A duke. She had grown up despising the British aristocracy for reasons best left unspoken.

Yet tonight Hadrian had become a flesh-and-blood man, and she could no longer disdain him for an accident of birth. Confessing her painful secret had deepened their bond. Somehow, they had gone beyond being mere acquaintances or friends, though exactly what existed between them remained a tantalizing mystery.

Searching herself for sorrow, she found herself blessedly free of that heaviness. Strange, how little the past seemed to matter anymore. She felt lighter, less burdened by all that had happened. And it was largely due to Hadrian. He made her feel protected and cherished in a way that she hadn’t known in a long time. Perhaps forever.

Which meant he was a very dangerous man.

Her sense of safety was an illusion, at least in part. A nobleman would never offer her anything more than a moment’s passing pleasure. In fact, it was probably nothing out of the ordinary for him to be with a woman in the middle of the night. A man of his wealth and charm would have left a string of broken hearts across England.

She had no wish to become one of them.

Nevertheless, the mellow glow of the brandy and her soul-deep yearning proved more powerful than common sense. The very air seemed charged with energy. Did Hadrian feel it, too? She could swear that the heavy thump of his heartbeat against her palm had accelerated.