All he wanted to do was stay right where he was, holding Harriet as their bodies quieted. He was agonizingly aware of her slender hips beneath his, of her breath on his shoulder, of her hair tangled on the pillow, of the smell of her silken skin.

All of it seeped through him and made him wish they could stay just like this, hidden and warm, safe and sated for the rest of their lives.

After a long moment, Harriet shifted against the pillows, her sigh warm on his neck. “We must get up.”

“I know.” Chase caught her hand in his and looked at it for a minute before he bent to kiss her finger where the talisman ring lay. It fit her slender finger perfectly, which was strange, for Chase would have sworn the ring was larger. He ran his thumb over the strange surface, a shiver of heat filling him.

Somehow, instead of looking at the ring, he found himself looking into Harriet’s eyes. Drowning in the warm brown depths, the ache that was always deep in his soul, easing for a moment. She shivered.

“Cold?”

“No. I was just—” She looked down at her hand where the ring rested. “I must dress.”

“Yes.” But he made no move to get up. Instead, he kissed her fingers, first one and then the next.

A noise sounded in the hallway.

Harriet’s eyes flew open. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.

The noise sounded again.

“Oh no!” She struggled beneath him. “We must rise.”

Chase obligingly moved to one side and smiled down at her, secure that she wouldn’t hop out of bed too quickly since her hair was firmly beneath his elbow. He felt amazingly invincible. Strong and powerful.

She tried to lift her head. “You’re on my hair.”

“If you rise, they will only catch you standing nude in the center of my room.” Not that that was a bad thing. Chase rather liked the thought of Harriet standing naked in the center of his room, her thick chestnut hair falling over her shoulders, her firm bottom within reach.

“We can’t stay here forever.”

He bent and kissed her chin. “We can try. Stay where you are and when they knock, I’ll send them away. If I use a large enough voice, they won’t dare come in.”

A soft knock came at the door. “Mr. St. John?”

Harriet looked up at Chase, her eyes wide. “It’s Sophia,” she whispered.

“I know,” he whispered back, a little amused by the alarm in Harriet’s normally calm gaze.

“Mr. St. John?” Sophia asked again, this time rattling the doorknob.

Harriet gasped.

“Who is it?” Chase growled the words rather than said them, as if he was a pirate. “I’m just getting dressed for bed.” He paused, then added, “I’m naked.”

There was an audible gasp outside the door, so comical that Harriet pressed a hand over her mouth, her eyes crinkled as she fought back a laugh.

Chase grinned at her and winked.