After a moment she leaned back and touched his face. He looked at her and their gazes locked.

Turning his face, he pressed a fervent kiss into her palm. "God, Hayley. You are beautiful. So soft and warm." His arousal jerked in his snug breeches, a pulsing reminder of how badly he wanted to bury himself inside her.

"What happened to me? I've never experienced anything like that before."

"You experienced a woman's pleasure," he whispered against her palm.

"It was … incredible. I had no idea." She caressed his face with gentle fingers and a breathy sigh escaped her. "What a wondrous, marvelous feeling."

Stephen touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, swallowing the lump of guilt that clogged his throat, threatening to choke him. Now that he could think clearly again, he was thoroughly disgusted with himself. Jesus. What a bloody bastard I am. He'd just compromised her beyond all hope, and worse, he knew if he didn't get away from her, he'd compromise her even more. And damn it, she deserved better than a tumble on the study sofa with a man who would leave her.

Raising himself on one elbow, he gently brushed the tangle of curls from her forehead. "Hayley, I…"God. He knew he should apologize, but he couldn't. It had been too beautiful. She was too beautiful. Tenderness invaded his system. He swallowed and tried again. "We cannot keep doing this, Hayley. We cannot continue spending time alone like this. You'll end up completely ruined, and I am going to lose my mind. I don't want to compromise you any more than I already have." Like hell. I want to compromise you so badly I can barely think straight.

Dark red stained her cheeks and she struggled to sit up. "Of course, you're right. I'm sorry-"

Stephen laid a single finger across her lips, halting her words. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Hayley. I take full responsibility for what happened. But I'm only a man, and I don't want to ruin you. If we're alone like this again, I will. I can't seem to help myself."

Forcing himself to move away from her, he sat up, then helped her to do the same. He ran shaky fingers through his hair and expelled a long breath. His body continued to throb and ache, but he knew Hayley was the only thing that would satisfy him, and she was the one thing he must not take. How ironic that all his wealth and estates and titles could not give him what he really wanted. He knew he could simply take it, but at what cost? I would hate myself. And worse, she would hate me. Maybe not now, but later. After I leave.

Turning, he watched her adjust her clothing. She looked vulnerable, confused, and more beautiful than any other woman he'd ever laid eyes on. Her lips were red and swollen from his kisses, and her cheeks abraded from his whiskers. Her chestnut hair fell in artful disarray around her shoulders. The glow of the fire cast a golden halo around her. He had to get away from her. Now.

Standing, he extended his hand. "Come. I'll walk you to your chamber."

Before she could reply, the study door burst open. Callie stood in the threshold, tears streaming down her face. "Hayley! There you are!"

Hayley dropped to her knees and Callie launched herself into her arms. "What's wrong, darling? Are you hurt?"

Callie clung to Hayley and sobbed into her neck. "I had a bad dream. The kind with hairy monsters who eat little girls. I looked for you everywhere and couldn't find you. I was so scared."

"Oh, poppet. I'm so sorry. I'm here now."

Hayley raised stricken eyes to Stephen, and he easily read the guilt and self-disgust in her gaze. He could almost hear her thoughts … Look what I've done. I was acting the wanton with you and Callie needed me. I failed her. What a terrible mistake I've made. And what would have happened if she'd interrupted us five minutes earlier?

She looked pointedly at the door and he knew she wanted him to leave before Callie noticed him. Without a word he left, closing the door silently behind him, knowing he'd left a piece of his soul behind.

SHAPE \* MERGEFORMAT

Chapter 16

"Am I interrupting something?" Justin asked the next afternoon. He stepped onto the patio at Albright Cottage, an amused, incredulous look on his face.

Stephen tried to glower at his friend, but it was damned hard to look threatening while pinching a tiny teacup between his fingers. It was even more difficult considering he sat at a tiny child-size table, his frame nearly bent double, his knees bumping his chin and his ass wedged into a teensy chair. He shot Justin the harshest glare he could manage under the circumstances.

"Why, no, Justin. You're not interrupting at all. In fact, you are just in time to join us." He indicated a tiny empty chair with a nod. "Please sit down."

Stephen almost laughed out loud at the expression of horror that crossed Justin's face.

"Oh, no," Justin said, "that is not necess-"

"Nonsense," Stephen broke in. "We insist. Justin, may I present Miss Callie Albright, the finest hostess in all of Halstead. Callie, this is Mr. Justin Mallory, a dear friend of mine."

Callie peeked up at Justin from beneath the brim of a huge hat adorned with colorful feathers. "How do you do, Mr. Mallory?" she said with a sweet smile. "Please sit down. We're just about to begin our tea party." She moved around the table and held the tiny chair out for Justin. "You may sit right here, next to Miss Josephine Chilton-Jones."

Stephen watched Justin's gaze move from the minuscule chair to the none too clean doll, then to Callie's hopeful expression. Clearly knowing when he was defeated, Justin set his package down, moved to the tiny chair and gingerly sat down. He could barely squeeze his hips between the chair's wooden arms, and like Stephen's, his knees bumped his chin.

"Wonderful!" Callie exclaimed, clapping her hands with glee. "I'll pour the tea while we wait for Grimsley to bring our cookies." With great ceremony, Callie poured four cups of tea and served her guests. Justin stared down at the thimble-size cup with a dazed expression, then choked back a laugh.

Grimsley arrived with a plate of cookies, setting it in the center of the table. "Good afternoon, Mr. Mallory."

Justin looked up from his cramped position. "Good afternoon, Grimsley."

"How fortunate you arrived in time for the party," the footman said with a perfectly straight face. He bowed and left the patio.

Callie passed the plate of cookies around, keeping up a constant string of chatter. She refilled the tiny cups as soon as they were emptied-one sip rendered them dry-and acted the perfect hostess. When the teapot was empty, she excused herself to refill it.

Alone on the patio, Justin shot Stephen a sidelong glance.

"Don't say it, Justin."

"Don't say what?"

"What you're thinking."

Justin squinted at him. "Actually, I was wondering what happened to your face."

Stephen sizzled him with a withering look. "I shaved, if you must know."

Justin's jaw fell. "You shaved? What on earth did you use? A rusty ax?"

Stephen's lips thinned. "I used a razor. And I'll have youknow, I think I did a damn fine job. It's not easy shaving yourself. I recommend you not take your valet for granted. I intend to double Sigfried's salary the moment I return to London."

"Why not simply grow a beard?" Justin asked, his amusement evident.

Stephen mentally sighed and wished Justin would just be quiet. "Aunt Olivia prefers me clean-shaven," he mumbled. "So does Callie."

"Ah, I see," Justin said, nodding. He peered at Stephen's hand. "What is that scratch on your hand? Another shaving debacle?"

"It's a memento from my fishing trip with the boys."

Justin raised his brows. "Fishing?"

"Yes. I caught eight fish and only fell in the stream twice."

Justin's eyes nearly popped from his head, then he burst into laughter. He laughed until tears streamed down his face. "Dear God, Stephen," he finally said, brushing his cheeks with a tiny linen napkin. "What has happened to you? Tea parties with little girls? Fishing with young boys? Shredding your face? Good God, man, you don't know the first thing about shaving. Or fishing for that matter. You're lucky you didn't slit your throat. Or drown in the stream. Do you even know how to swim?"

Insulted, Stephen said, "Of course I know how to swim."

Justin burst out laughing again.

"Justin." The warning in Stephen's voice was unmistakable.

"Yes?"

"The only reason I haven't flung you head first into the vegetable garden is because my ass is permanently wedged in this goddamn tiny chair. I may never rise again. However, if I do, rest assured I'll make you sorry for your disrespect."

Justin bit into his cookie, clearly unconcerned with Stephen's threats. "I doubt it. I could blackmail you for every pound you're worth with what I've seen today. These are delicious cookies, by the way." He tossed a broad wink at Stephen.

Callie returned with a fresh pot of tea, and the group polished off cup after cup, or sip after sip, of the hot brew and another plate of cookies. When the teapot was finally drained, Callie stood. "Thank you so much for coming to my tea party," she said with a curtsy. She lifted Miss Josephine Chilton-Jones from her chair, hugging the doll to her chest. "I must put Miss Josephine in for her nap now. Good afternoon, gentlemen." With a polite nod, she left the patio.

Stephen and Justin looked at each other. Finally Stephen sighed and spoke. "I have to get out of this chair. I feel an incredible cramp coming on."

Justin wiggled his bottom experimentally. "My ass is stuck between the armrests."