She’d have to do it the hard way.

Moving to the closest window, she peeped above the bottom edge.

Several moments passed before her eyes grew accustomed to the dimness inside. She blinked several times before the vision cleared. Henry, one of the footmen, lay sprawled atop the covers, completely nude. Ugh. She hadn’t needed to see that. Fortunately, his roommate Oliver was fully clothed in the small bed across the room. Typical. The men got beds to themselves.

Hand over hand, foot over foot, she Spider-Manned it to the next window. When she didn’t think about the terrifying ground below, this was actually kind of fun.

With a whispered plea for luck, she lifted her head over the bottom edge of the window.

It didn’t take as long for her eyes to adjust this time. When she saw him, her breath caught.

Avery lay on his back, arm cast over his eyes to block out the beam of moonlight that highlighted his chest and face. He was gorgeous, dressed in nothing but his breeches. She couldn’t help but wish he’d been the one who slept in the buff. She might have been satisfied just hanging out here like George of the Jungle on a vine with a view like that.

Who was she kidding? She wanted to watch out for his tree.

A quick glance across his room confirmed her suspicions. Nobody else was in the room. She didn’t know why the other servants ostracized him, but it happened to be pretty convenient at the moment. Gripping the windowsill, she moved higher, stretching for the window latch. Thank God, it opened with the barest push. Third-floor windows were so much nicer than first floor!

She hoisted herself up onto the windowsill, tumbling into his room with a thump. Wincing, she glanced at him. Whew. He’d just turned over with the noise. Good to be a sound sleeper.

Her palms stung with the effort she’d used to grip the trellis, but she rubbed them against her skirt and ignored the tingling. What was a little discomfort? He’d obviously been through much worse in the past week or so.

Shedding her cloak, she moved toward him and knelt at his bedside. Her fingers trailed just above his chest, tracing the edges of greenish-yellow bruises. He’d been beaten severely, or had gotten in a bad fight.

Her throat closed, and her eyes stung at the thought of Avery in pain. God, what a hardheaded bastard. He got in trouble way more than he should. The memory of the time she’d bandaged him slammed into her. One man shouldn’t have to bear this much crap. But he did, and he’d never complained, not once.

It wasn’t pity or even compassion that moved her to lean over him and take his lips in a fervent kiss.

It was something much, much deeper.

Twenty-One

His lips were so warm. She lost herself in them, delighting in the stubbly texture of his five o’clock shadow against her chin. He shifted beneath her, and she curled her fingers into the muscles on his broad chest. The man was solid as a brick wall, and the feel of those firm muscles under her made her want to purr.

His mouth opened, and she capitalized on the opportunity. Her tongue slipped between his lips, tasting his warm mouth. She knelt on the narrow bed’s edge, wanting to lie atop him, stretch out, and feel every part of him touching her.

Way too soon, he pushed her away.

“Leah,” he rasped, eyes wide and confused with sleep. “What are you doing here?” He sat up. She made use of the extra space on the narrow bed, plopping down beside him.

“I came to finish what you started,” she said, hoping she sounded a lot more confident than she felt. She didn’t have much experience convincing men to sleep with her. Her list of conquests wasn’t nonexistent, but it was kind of on the short side. She leaned forward, hoping he’d take the hint.

“What do you mean?”

Well, shit. She bit her lip. Better to show than tell, right?

Crawling toward him, she braced her palms on either side of his lean, muscled abdomen. “This,” she whispered before kissing him again.

As kisses go, it wasn’t the best she’d ever had. Avery pulled away after their lips had touched for only a brief second.

“What’s wrong?” she said, raking her hair from her face in frustration.

“You must not…I should not…”

“Avery, please. I want you. Don’t say no.”

His face was tortured, beautiful even though the expression was heartbreaking and his injuries were plain. She had every intention of getting him to spill his guts about why he looked like the poster child for a new Rocky movie. But right now, there was something they both needed much more than conversation.

“Please.”

* * *

His brain lost every trace of sleep. He blinked, trying to clear the vision of Leah lying over him, hair falling like a curtain around them both. She could not be here. In his bed. Asking to lie with him.

But she was.

As gently as he could, he pushed her away.

“You do not know what you are asking,” he said, standing and lighting the candle at his bedside. She only looked lovelier in the dim light. “How can I ruin you?”

His muscles tensed, and he fought to keep their trembling secret. Excitement and willingness thrummed in his body, but he must deny it. He cared for her too much.

“It’s not ruining, Avery.” She unfolded herself and came to him. “I’m not a virgin, and I want you as much as you want me. And there are things that we need to settle between us, feelings that I need to explore.” She laid her head on his chest, and he did not resist the urge to fold his arms around her.

He rubbed her back and closed his eyes. All the reasons he should abstain pelted him. She was not of his time. She was not his wife. Prachett would use her against him, harm her.

But when he looked down into her open, honest, and beautiful face, he could not deny either of them.

“Leah,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. Their kiss was filled with her enthusiasm and his barely contained joy. She’d accepted him. She could not know what that meant to him.

Bending low, he scooped her against his chest, bearing her back to the bed. Her hands curled around his neck and she nuzzled his chest.

“You have the best body,” she said as he lay her gently on his mattress. Her eyes glowed with desire as she traced his chest with a finger.

He smiled. “I would like to return the compliment, but I cannot see as much of you at the moment.”

Her laugh warmed his heart as well as other parts of his body. She sat up with a wink. “Let’s fix that then, shall we?”

His mouth went dry as she turned and presented her back to him. “Can you help me out of this?”

He was no fool. He knew what he wanted from her and what she’d expect from him. But faced with the reality of a warm, laughing Leah in his bed, he found himself frozen with an emotion he could not name. Not fear, or anxiety either. More the sense that the world around him was changing at a lightning pace, and there was not a thing he could do to stop it.

If he wanted to stop it.

“Are you okay?” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Avery?”

He shook off the thoughts and moved close to her. “All is well.” His fingers moved sure and strong, deftly loosing the buttons that flowed down the back of her dress. He concentrated on the task, doing his damnedest to ignore the throbbing ache in his groin that needed to be sated.

He pushed the gown from her shoulders, and it pooled around her torso. His moan of frustration at the numerous layers of underthings that lay beneath the gown wrenched a giggle from her.

“I know. It’s a crazy amount of underwear. We’ll get through it together, though, right?”

He pressed a kiss on her shoulder. “I cannot wait.”

He pulled her to her feet, and together they removed layer after layer of frilly, womanly undergarments. He’d not thought he could grow so hard at such a simple act as undressing her, but she was irresistible. She teased and kissed by turns, stoking his fires by touching him whenever and however she could. By the time she stood barefoot, wearing only her shift, he was ready to toss her onto her back and plunge into her. Control. He must retain control.

“Well,” she said, running her fingers beneath the waist of his breeches. “I think we’re even here. What do you say we get rid of the last of these clothes on the count of three?”

“I don’t think I can wait that long,” he said, gripping her shift and lifting it over her head. His breath caught deep in his throat.

“Good Lord.”

She stood naked in front of him, her arms at her sides, not bothering to hide her exquisite nudity. He did not know whether to stumble backward to look his fill or to press her full against him.

She was so lovely. Her full, high breasts pouted and teased him with their erect nipples. Her waist sloped delicately, flaring out to beautifully shaped hips. He could happily stare at her all evening, but she clearly had other notions.

“It’s your turn,” she said, stepping close and unbuttoning his breeches. “I want to see you too.”

He didn’t move as she bent to lower his breeches. He couldn’t. He was transfixed by the sight of her delectable bottom as she bent over in front of him. It was too much pleasure for a man, it truly was.

“Oh, Avery,” she whispered, kneeling in front of him. “You’re beautiful.”

Before he could ask to what she was referring, her soft hands had wrapped around his manhood. She pressed a kiss to the weeping tip, and he fisted his hands at his sides. Control.

“Can I suck you?”