He left directly after the meal. Catherine was disappointed and had trouble hiding it, though she tried. He’d never done that before. But had he stayed, he probably would have embarrassed them both.

He returned home with dread, though, knowing full well that he was going to have a problem with Larissa’s close proximity that night. How utterly insane, to have put her in that particular room, with no locks on the doors between them. There were no guests expected over the holidays. He had wanted her where he could reach her. He had been thinking, foolishly, of after The Seduction, when he expected to continue to share her bed, at least until her father’s return, and so had arranged the easiest access to it. He had not counted on being tempted beyond reason before he had her.

He’d been right. He was unable to sleep. He’d been right, too, that he’d be unable to resist entering her room that night. He had an excuse ready, in case she awoke. She didn’t. She slept very soundly. He didn’t even try to be quiet, wanted her to wake. She didn’t. She was driving him crazy.

Somehow, and he’d never know where he dredged up the will, he managed to get out of there without disturbing her. He even managed to get to sleep, probably because it was now near dawn. He’d actually spent most of the night in her room in a state of heightened anticipation that had finally drained him to exhaustion.

And he dreamed that she stood at the foot of his bed, watching him sleep, as he had done to her . . .

It wasn’t a dream. Larissa had been unable to sleep as well, though in her case, she didn’t know what was bothering her so much that all she could do was toss and turn and pound on her pillow every few minutes in vexation that sleep was avoiding her. She’d heard Vincent come down the hall, had known it was he, because their doors were the only ones at the end of the hall. She’d heard vague sounds after that, nothing distinguishable—until the inner door to her room opened and she went so still, she briefly forgot to breathe.

It was he, and all those feelings he had acquainted her with that afternoon came back, just knowing he was there. She couldn’t imagine what he wanted, wasn’t going to ask. When she realized he wasn’t going to wake her to tell her, no amount of curiosity got her to open her eyes. She pretended sleep. She didn’t want to know, really didn’t.