Someone to Watch Over Me (Bow Street Runners #1)(30)

The question was reassuringly innocuous. Although Vivien didn't remember any of her previous knowledge about men and sexual matters, it didn't seem likely that a seducer would offer a woman a glass of water before ravishing her. "No, thank you," she murmured, reshaping a pillow behind her. A shaky laugh escaped her. "Perhaps you could light the lamp? The nightmares are so vivid, I'm afraid to fall asleep again. Silly, isn't it? I'm no better than a child afraid of the dark."

"No, it's not silly." His voice changed, becoming very gentle. "Let me stay with you tonight, Vivien. It's only a few hours until morning."

She was silent with confusion.

"I'll hold you as a friend," he said quietly. "As a brother. All I want is to keep the nightmares away." He paused, and a subtle trace of laughter wound its way through his next words. "Well, that's notall I want...but the rest will keep for later. Shall I stay, or would you prefer me to light the lamp?"

With more than a little surprise, Vivien realized that she did indeed wish him to stay. It wasn't the wisest of decisions. She was certainly inviting trouble. But the comfort of another human being would indeed keep the nightmares at bay...and it hardly hurt that he was a large, strong male who feared nothing.

"First let me ask something," she said cautiously. "What are you wearing?"

"What do you mean, what am I wearing?" he asked blankly.

She decided to be blunt. "You aren't naked, are you?"

"I put on a robe before I came in here," he replied flatly. "Disappointed?"

"No," she said, so quickly that it drew a catch of laughter from him.

"I'm a fairly impressive sight without my clothes."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Let's have it, Miss Duvall...Shall I stay or leave?"

Vivien hesitated a long time before replying. "Stay," she said softly.

CHAPTER 7

The mattress depressed beneath Morgan's considerable weight. Vivien sucked in a deep breath and pressed her fists hard in the lee of her stomach to calm the nervous flurry inside. The covers were lifted and his long, large body slid beside hers. Immediately she was suffused with warmth as they were coccooned beneath the layer of linen and wool.

With extreme care, Morgan curved his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him, so they were pressed together spoon fashion. Vivien couldn't prevent a small gasp at the animal heat and hardness of his body, evident through the nightclothes that separated them.

"You're not afraid, are you?" he murmured at the soft sound.

"No," she replied breathlessly. "But...I'm having a difficult time thinking of you as a friend."

The arm at her waist tightened a minute degree. "Good," he said thickly.

Vivien was quiet for a time, absorbing the sensation of being held by him. She was surrounded by the scents of soap and clean male skin, and the heat that warded off the night-chilled air. Her limbs turned heavy and relaxed, and she felt her spine conform to the shape of his body. She inched backward, seeking more of the delicious contact with him. Gently his hand fell to her hip, keeping her still.

"Don't wiggle about." He sounded a bit gruff. "I'm not a eunuch."

A wave of mortification engulfed her as she became aware of the burning shape of his arousal, wedged high against her bu**ocks and the small of her back. "I don't think this is a good idea," she managed. "I'll never fall asleep this way."

"Do you want me to leave?"

Considering the question in confounded silence, Vivien struggled with the heedings of her conscience and the pure physical pleasure of being in his arms. Her conscience was soon to be disappointed. "Well..." she said uncertainly. "I'm not sleeping, but at least I won't have nightmares."

He chuckled. "I'm glad you trust me. I expected you to turn down my offer."

"I almost did," she replied. "But it occurred to me that if you were going to ravish me, you had a few opportunities before tonight."

"I would never force myself on an unwilling woman."

"I should imagine you rarely encounter one of those."

"Oh, there have been a few," he said dryly.

Resting quietly against him, Vivien felt his breath stir the downy fuzz on the nape of her neck. One of her bare feet touched his ankle, the brush of wiry masculine hair tickling her skin pleasantly. He was an excessively masculine creature, and the knowledge that all his strength and virility were held in check but for one word from her should have frightened her. Instead she was fascinated. Flirting with danger was an undeniably heady feeling.

"Grant?" she said softly. "Why have you never married?"

He laughed softly. "I'm not the marrying kind." He picked up the braided rope of her hair and played with the feathery ends.

"You never intend to have a wife and children?"

"What reason is there? I feel no overwhelming need to continue a damned undistinguished family line. Neither do I have great confidence in my ability to stay faithful to one woman for a lifetime. When I want female companionship, I can get it. My servants look after the household and see to my meals and my comfort. What use would I have for a wife?"

"You've never met a woman you couldn't live without?"