“Let go, Emily,” he said. And suddenly his lovemaking turned from gentle to reckless. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her, thrusting deeply as she cried out. The pleasure poured over her, a violent release that pounded even harder as he pumped against her body. She spasmed against his length, tears spilling from her eyes as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

With one final thrust, he found his own release, and he entered and withdrew a few times more. At last, he rested his cheek against hers, their bodies still joined.

He fell silent, not speaking as he finally pulled away from her body. She couldn’t read his thoughts as he wrapped her in the heavy quilts, moving to the opposite side of the bed. The fire crackled on the hearth, making the only sound in the room.

And, God help her, she didn’t know what he must think of her now.

Chapter Five

Sometime, in the middle of the night, Emily left the bed. Stephen heard the clatter of pots in the kitchen and knew she must have gone to cook something. Likely she needed the distraction as much as he did. He rolled over, staring at the spot where her head had rested. The sheets were warm from her body heat, and he reached out to touch them. Never in all his years, had he done something like this.

He couldn’t quite grasp what had happened between them. Right now he should be consumed with guilt, furious with himself. He’d come here to look after her, to ensure her comforts. Not to seduce her.

He’d lost sight of everything when she’d begged him to stay. He couldn’t have denied her anything in that moment. And though Emily would likely hate him for taking her innocence, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Never before had any woman made him feel this way.

Now, more than ever, he intended to ensure that she had everything she ever wanted. He’d take care of her, seeing to all her needs.

Stephen got up and dressed quietly. It was too dark to see how snowy it was, but he didn’t doubt that his coachman would eventually return when the weather cleared. He walked downstairs and found Emily in the kitchen, attacking dough with a rolling pin. Her hair was wild, tangled across her shoulders, while she wore the gown she’d had on earlier. A long apron was tied about her waist.

She was crying.

Damn it all. He’d never meant to hurt her. He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Emily.”

She whirled with the rolling pin, touching her hand to her throat. “Oh, heavens, you scared me.” Just as quickly, she stepped away and tried to set the utensil down. “I was just…making something for breakfast. Some fried dough dipped in sugar.”