But what to do now?
The complications of what they had just done together weighed heavily on Griffin’s shoulders. He did not need to offer marriage, of course. Precarious as Bea’s life seemed at the moment, she did not need to add to that uncertainty by taking such a socially inept man as her husband!
But should he at least insist she return to her own bedchamber before going to his?
Would she be happy with that, or would she want him to stay with her tonight?
Just thinking of lying beside her for the whole night, his body wrapped protectively about hers, was enough to cause his body to throb in anticipation of further lovemaking.
Lovemaking that should not—could not—happen again.
Tonight they had given each other pleasure with their mouths and hands, but if it was allowed to happen again how long before they—he—wanted more? Before he wished to possess Bea totally? How long before making love put them both at risk, so that marriage was no longer an option but a certainty?
Bea was warm and giving, yes, but Griffin did not need her to say the words to know that she would not want to tie herself to a man such as him for ever because of an unborn child.
Especially so when somewhere a man called Michael was awaiting her return.
‘You are very quiet,’ Bea said as she raised her head to look at him.
Griffin breathed in deeply before speaking. ‘I was just thinking that—’ He paused with a frown as there came the sound of a loud knocking. ‘What the devil?’ He sat up abruptly, a scowl marring his brow as he turned towards the door.
Bea also frowned at the interruption; she was desperate to know what Griffin had been thinking as he’d lain so quiet and unmoving beneath her.
Was he as happy as she was, overwhelmed by the warmth of emotions flowing between them?
Or was he regretting what had just happened between the two of them, and seeking some way in which to gently but firmly express those regrets?
‘You must dress immediately,’ he instructed harshly as there came the sound of another loud pounding, causing him to rise quickly to his feet before hastily fastening his pantaloons. ‘Now, Bea.’ He scowled darkly as she still sat naked upon the hearthrug. ‘It would seem we have a visitor, and you cannot be seen like this!’ He gathered up her nightrail and robe and pushed them into her trembling hands. ‘Make haste, Bea,’ he encouraged impatiently as he pulled his shirt on over his head before turning away.
Bea felt bereft as she watched Griffin march across the room to the door and leave the library without sparing her so much as a second glance.
As if he had already forgotten the intimacies the two of them had just shared.
And perhaps he had. Perhaps men did not feel the same way about such things? Did they not appreciate the vulnerability that occurred inside a woman when she placed her trust, her naked self, so completely into the hands of another human being?
Certainly Griffin would not have been celibate in the years since his wife’s death and yet he remained unencumbered by a second marriage, which would seem to imply that his affections had never been engaged in any of those liaisons.
Had Bea been foolish to believe that she was somehow different from the other women he had made love to, and that Griffin held some measure of affection for her?
Or was it just, in her determination to show Griffin she was not the mouse he believed her to be as well as her need to be with him, that she had deliberately chosen to believe that he cared for her?
Her memories of her own past might be seriously lacking at present, but still she knew instinctively that men were different from women, in that their physical desires were not necessarily accompanied by the same feelings of affection or love.
Love?
Did she love Griffin?
She certainly cared for him a good deal, and would be very sad to part from him when the time came, but was that love?
‘Perhaps now that I have persuaded Pelham to go back to bed you will explain what the hell you are doing here!’ she heard Griffin hiss fiercely from outside in the hallway.
‘I would rather we were alone together in a private room before doing that,’ a male voice replied unconcernedly. ‘With the door closed so that we cannot be overheard— Hello, who have we here?’
Bea viewed the newcomer nervously as he stepped inside the library, one blond eyebrow raised in mocking query as he slowly took in her appearance from the top of her head to her toes.
Lavender eyes.
The man had lavender-coloured eyes, Bea realised inconsequentially.