He had such plans for the country, ideas he wanted to implement, things that would steer the nation away from disaster. But that only came with great money or the right connections. He did not have a nabob’s wealth. Thanks to Lord Dunnamore’s mismanagement, their money was barely adequate. That left him working constantly to recover their finances, all while looking for connections in the evening, discussing resolutions and laws with the influential lords as he paid respect to their daughters.
It was what he’d been doing at Almack’s this night. Whenever he hadn’t been looking at Amber, that is. And it was the litany he repeated to himself when he wanted to spread her thighs and watch her come apart in his arms again.
“I cannot have you,” he said. “But I could show you more if you want it.”
She shifted in his arms, but she did not pull away. Neither forward nor back, and the movement showed she was as undecided as he. “For a man who is ashamed, you sound very unrepentant.”
He closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead to hers. He felt the throb in his body, and his hands tightened reflexively around her waist. How easy it would be to slide his hands upward to her breasts. How wonderful it would be to ease her backward onto the worktable and feast upon her body.
“I want you, Amber,” he said honestly. “More than I have ever wanted any woman before. I watch you when you dance, I dream of you when I sleep, and when I lie in bed and close my eyes, I have done such things with you. Such beautiful, wonderful, lustful things.”
He heard her breath catch and felt her body soften against him. She wanted him, too.
“You do not understand the weight I feel every day,” he continued. “What I owe my name, my family, and my country. It is not a vague thing to me, Amber, but a responsibility bred into me with my first breath. It is a factor in everything I do. Sometimes I hate it, but other times…” His voice trailed away.
“Yes?” she pressed. “Other times what?”
He sighed. “Other times, it is an honor I bear proudly. My title means something to the people I serve, to my forebearers, and to my future children. Your father changed his name from Gohar to Gold, maybe not as easy as changing his coat, but he did it nonetheless.”
He felt her shoulders stiffen, then release as she absorbed the words he spoke.
“I cannot do the same. To be a Byrn means—”
“That you cannot marry a Gohar or a Gold.” She gently moved out of his arms. “But you can take your pleasure with one?”
He nodded. It was the way things were done. Mistresses were common, marriages were sacred, though not in the way the priests would have one believe. Marriages were holy connections of power and privilege. And as fascinating and talented as Amber was, she had neither.
“I won’t be your mistress,” she said firmly.
“I understand.”
“I won’t let you touch me like…”
“Like I did in the carriage.”
For the third time this night, he saw tears glittering in her eyes. Before they were meant for her father, but this time, they were for him and her. For what they might have been together if only things were different.
“But I want it,” she whispered, her voice desperate. “I want to feel those things with you. Is that wrong?”
“Of course not. Because if it is, then we are both damned.”
She turned away. “It’s not fair,” she murmured, and he agreed.
And then he had an idea. A scandalous, horrible idea, but one that might serve. At least for her.
“What if I teach you?” he offered.
She blinked as she looked up at him. “What?”
“What if I teach you how to feel that way without me? Without anyone. You can do it yourself in your own bed.”
She frowned. “It cannot be the same.”
It wasn’t. It wasn’t even close. “It might feel the same. You would have to try.”
“How?”
He glanced at the door. This was not something to be done with a guard ten feet away. “I will tell you—”