When it came, Robert dropped his head to kiss her almost violently and caught her cry in his mouth. A heartbeat later, he tore his mouth away on a gasping cry of pleasure and threw his head back as his body pounded forward and arched, pinning her in place as they both rode the waves he’d unleashed. Moments later he sagged on top of her, then rolled onto his back, taking her with him and Lisa simply nestled against him, completely spent, her eyelids drooping closed.

Lisa wasn’t sure how long she’d slept when she suddenly woke up. She wasn’t even sure what had woken her, but she found herself still curled up against Robert’s side in his bed. Lifting her head carefully, she peered at his face, smiling when she saw that he was dead to the world, his eyes closed and mouth partly open to emit the faintest of snores.

Perhaps that was what had woken her, Lisa thought with amusement as she took in his relaxed face. He looked so peaceful in sleep, with none of life’s worries troubling him, she thought, and wished he could always be so at peace. But of course, that wasn’t likely. Especially after Suzette, Christiana, Richard and Daniel returned to “catch” them. He would be furious then. Or worried for her reputation. Or both. He probably wouldn’t blame her unless he figured out that it had been a deliberate trap. But he would resent being forced to marry her when he had no desire to enter that blissful state.

That thought made her shift carefully away from him and she rolled onto her back, wanting to think without his smell and the feel of his body to distract her. But the move did not remove his smell. It was on her now like perfume. Eau de Lord Langley. He had marked her with his body and his scent. She was his. It was just a shame he didn’t want to be married.

Grimacing at the unpleasant thought, Lisa glanced at the ceiling and then frowned when she saw the way the light was flickering on it. That made her shift her gaze to the candle on the bedside table. It was apparently a flawed candle, the wick not quite centered. The flame had burnt down one side, leaving a small mountain of wax around the other that was melting and pooling at the bottom. The light was about to be guttered by its own wax . . . and then the others would come, catch them in here and demand Robert make an honest woman of her.

Which he would do. Lisa didn’t doubt that for a minute. But he would also hate her for it. Or at least resent her. He would blame her for this for the rest of their days.