He held his breath.

Waited.

Her eyes searched his, asking if this was part of the game.

The hint of moonlight revealed her eyes and they were dancing, alight with fire.

Then she sighed.

Resignation.

Sasha's hands wound around his neck with a slight tug and West let out a sigh—or a groan of relief before his mouth crushed down on her.

It was potent. It was spontaneous. The fire surged and consumed, eating any remnants of reservations he may have had with this woman.

The groan that escaped them both was evidence of the days they had to deprive themselves of this.

They should have known that the teasing would never be enough.

This was the real game.

His mouth opened wide. He angled his head to take more and he grabbed the chance when she answered, opening her mouth to welcome, to meet.

He swore he heard himself moan, tormented by sensations.

She tasted like sherry. She tasted woman. His arms tightened around her, pressing her hard against his length, desperate for her to feel the yearning, the need.

With a whimper, Sasha squirmed restlessly in his arms, pressing her hips deeper into his, almost grinding, driving him insane. With a guttural sound rolling from deep within his throat, West pushed her against the wall. A book fell with a thump on the carpeted floor.

"You taste better..." he managed, "...than I imagine." His mouth traveled down her jaw, his teeth scathing her skin. He tasted down her neck and lingered at the spot where she pulsed, the rhythm matching the hammering in his chest. Dipping his head lower, he found the hollow dip of her collarbone. Her chest heaved as he took his mouth lower until he met the edge of her neckline. And then he suckled. Sasha pushed away from the shelf and pressed into him, the movement subtle and graceful.

His hand reached for the skirts of her gown and searched until he found her bare leg underneath, pulling it high, hitching it on his hip as he stepped closer and against her. A rumble of frustration escaping his throat, cursing the layers of fabric between them because he needed to feel more.

The kiss would not be enough.

He straightened to search her languid eyes. Nostrils flared, breath hot and shaky, he claimed her mouth once more. "You are winning this game twice," he rasped against her lips.

Sasha did not answer as she welcomed his hungry kiss. He was devouring her, suckling her soul, her words. He would hate to hear her say stop. His hand under her skirts moved higher.

"Bloody hell, Sasha, how many layers do these gowns have nowadays?" he asked, his hand searching the secrets of her drawers.

She swallowed, breathless. Hot air blowing out of her swollen lips. "Quite a few—" the rest of her words were left unspoken as her head fell back and her mouth spontaneously parted, letting out a whimper. "A few layers..."

He did not let her finish as he claimed her mouth again, stealing her words, her breath.

"And have I ever told you how I hate your gowns?" he asked against her mouth.

She was no longer listening, he thought. He stilled his hand and she whimpered with need.

Sasha swallowed. Chest heaving, she opened her mouth to speak. "No, but I have had an inkling you hate them," she rasped O, biting her lower lip, inhaling deeply, letting out a rough breath of frustration and need. Her eyes met his in the darkness, fluttering close then open, pupils wide and glimmering with unspent pleasure. "I ended the game last night," she said, gasping at the last word when his hand moved. Her hips buckled and her hands gripped his shoulders tightly. "I guess we both lost this game."

West nodded. "The game was never our forte." She nodded, swallowing with anticipation, lids half-closed, mouth slightly open as she started to move against his hand, having found a rhythm.

West knew he had to stop. Now. If he wanted to leave this room as a man who stood by his own words. He had made her sign an agreement, and yet here he was, giving her pleasure while depriving himself of his own.

He was never the martyr, but he must be because having her like this seemed enough.

For now.

She leaned forward, burying her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder. "But I believe we lost too early in the game..." she rasped against his throat, spreading a hot blanket of air over his skin, sending him closer to the edge.

His other hand went behind her neck, tilting her head back to meet his mouth. "No, Sasha, we lost too late."

*****

West returned to the ballroom and rejoined Tanner and Rider. Clearing his throat, he took the drink offered by the server, his gaze trapped to the subject of his attention. The said subject was staring straight back at him, moistening her lips as she pretended to listen to what her friends were saying.

His muscled went tight, now aware of what those lips tasted like.

"You keep disappearing, West," Tanner said, looking at him with curiosity. "To a point that it is almost alarming."

Ignoring his friend, West took a sip from his drink, his gaze never leaving Sasha.

I should have disappeared for the whole night, he silently replied to Tanner's comment.

"Yes, he is definitely out of it," Tanner said to Rider in an amused voice.

"Out of what?" West asked.

"Out of your bloody mind."

"Believe whatever you want, Tanner."

"West," Rider's composed voice spoke. "I hope you are being careful."

Blinking away from Sasha, West turned his gaze to Rider. "I am."

Rider sighed. "I am not going to talk you out of this. That is too late for that. You have made your decision, but at the very least, I am hoping that you have not forgotten your true purpose here."

West frowned, suddenly guarded. "I may appear to be doing something unconventional, my friends," he bit out, "but I know what I am after."

Tanner scoffed. "You seem to also be after something else. Or have you gotten it already?"

West blinked away and returned his gaze to Sasha who was now staring at Ruby with a small smile. "No," he curtly replied, intently watching Sasha's every move. Her hair looked slightly disheveled, but nothing that would suggest she had been ravaged in a dark library. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, both could be blamed on the wine.

Tanner and Rider followed his gaze, all three of them observing, their expressions all different. Rider was as blank as he always was, Tanner obviously amused with a wicked smile at the corner of his lips, and West almost brooding, lips pressed, eyes dark.

It was Tanner who broke the silence with a clearing of his throat. "Say, West, what was the name of that chit?"

"Who?"

"The one from last night. At the gaming room. The redhead. I do not see her about."

"I cannot tell you that."

Tanner chuckled, looking at Rider who was suddenly looking grim. "Rider, she must be the first to have addressed you like that, eh? Both of you, as a matter of fact. At the gaming room? Do you recall? Or do Belles disregard titles altogether?"

"The said incident is something I would rather not recall, Tanner," Rider bit out, turning around to leave. "The same goes with that woman."

Tanner moved close beside West, eyes back on Sasha. "Your Belle seems lovely tonight."

West did not comment.

"Bloody tarnation," Tanner said with a chuckle, pushing West away, "Go and get the woman. I loathe the sight of the two of you mentally stripping each other naked from across the ballroom."

West turned to Tanner with a tight smile tugging on his lips. "Or mayhap we can spend more time in the gaming room."

Tanner shrugged. "Whatever you say, my friend."

*****

The next morning, Sasha looked for Gabrielle but she could not be found.

In fact, she had not laid eyes on the woman since their talk yesterday morning.

The same day, Sasha ordered for Iyana and Briana to go back to Coulway. The two servants hesitated, of course, but after Sasha made them understand that she would be more comfortable traveling with Ruby knowing Aaron would be there to protect them should Willoghby do something drastic. Three women traveling after the party in Humbrick was over was most definitely not the best option. And there might be letters from Belcourt or issues in the household that needed attention.

After breakfast, West joined Sasha and Jade and their gentlemen in one of the parlors while they were having tea. Standing beside Sasha, he rested his hand on the back of her chair. "I heard that you have sent your servants away."

Sasha frowned at Ruby and Jade. Both ladies shook their heads. She turned to Aaron and Trent. Trent shook his head. Aaron, on the other hand, shifted uncomfortably in his chair and coughed.

"First of all, Sasha," Aaron said, clearing his throat and lifting a finger for emphasis, "I thought he is aware of your plans."

Sasha stiffened, a current spreading to the tips of her fingers, as West transferred his hand to rest on her right shoulder. Squeezing gently, he asked, "What plans?"

She moistened her lips. "I needed someone to deliver my report against Willoghby to Belcourt," she lied under her breath.

Another squeeze. "And how do you plan to go home after this party?"

Sasha waved her hand at Ruby and Aaron. "My generous friends have graciously offered their carriage."

Another squeeze, this time a little tighter. "And you thought I would not have offered mine?"

Aaron and Trent shared a wary look.

Ruby and Jade bit their lips and pretended to look at their teacups which seemed to have suddenly become interesting.

"I did not want to bother you."

Aaron let out an awkward laugh, turning to Ruby. "I did tell you, did I not, Ruby? He would be cross."

Trent nodded, supporting his friend's attempt to make light of the matter. "No gentleman is pleased to know someone else took over their responsibility."

"You have no responsibility for us," all three Belles chorused sternly.

West's hand slid to the center of her back. "If you would, Sasha, please join me outside."

She shook her head. "No."

His hand spread over her back, sending another frenzy of little currents. "Please."

Her friends cautiously looked at each other and Sasha sighed, slowly standing up.

Stiffly, she made her way to the door. Once outside, she crossed her arm over her chest. "What?"

West's light blue eyes narrowed at her. "While I find the immediate need for you to send a report to Belcourt understandable, do you think it is wise to have your servants leave you here alone?"

"Willoghby is no longer in Humbrick."

"Yes, but what assurance do you have that he will not return?"

"I am more cautious, West, fret not. I would not be as unprepared as I was on the night of his attack. Twice is my limit." She arched her brows. "Do you have more things to say?"

He looked down the empty corridor and behind him before he returned his gaze to her. "You are going home with me."

She blinked. "Surely you brought your sealed carriage with you. I cannot ride that one."

"And you will ride Aaron's sealed one?"

She shrugged. "He does not have a rule that he cannot be seen with a Belle." Seeing his jaw tighten, her hands dropped to her side. "You may have forgotten your own rules, West. Need I remind you of them? Humbrick does not offer its scandal protection outside its premises. The moment we roll out of this place, your reputation will be doomed."

"You are not leaving with Emsworth."

Sasha rolled her eyes. "Are you acting this way because of last night?"

He frowned at her. "I am acting this way because you disposed of your servants and your carriage."

"And secured a safer method to come home, yes."

"You are leaving Humbrick with me."

"We still have four more days to argue on this matter." She turned to the door. "Are you going to join us for tea?"

"No."

"And will you be joining us this afternoon? Lady Renee has arranged an excursion to the island."

His face crumpled with incredulity. "Are you bloody serious?"

Sasha blinked, confused. "I believe the ocean is not frozen. And they said that Lady Renee has one of the best schooners in the kingdom."

"You cannot be seriously considering having an excursion while it is still winter."

"Winter is over. No one is forcing you to join," Sasha wryly said, opening the door. "Have a nice day, sir."

*****

Sasha was waiting with probably fifty or so guests aboard the luxurious schooner after Lady Renee. Wearing a wide straw bonnet trimmed with a green ribbon tied under her chin, resting over her white lace mob cap, she had let her hair loose. Her white lace dress was probably the wrong choice, she thought, as she imagined the state of the island they were going to.

The Sailor Garden, the small island merely an hour away from the mainland, came with Humbrick when Lady Renee reclaimed it with her own money after it was taken away from the missing Marquess of Rothsker.

Most of the guests were discussing the schooner's exemplary rigging when suddenly the captain, a lanky man with white bushy beard that reached his chest, hollered, "Is everyone on board? We are to leave for Sailor Garden in ten minutes! Ten minutes!"

Ruby clutched Sasha's hand with her cold ones. "Do you think we should not have come?" Her friend, always in red, was looking too pale in her matching black bonnet.

Sasha looked ahead. "The sea is calm this afternoon, Ruby. And the island is just right there," she said, motioning with her head. True enough, the island was visible from the mainland.

Ruby moistened her lips. Then her friend clutched the railing before them, eyes tightly closed. "Where is Aaron! I think am about to swoon."

"He is by the refreshment table," West's deep voice said behind them.

Ruby turned and left in search of her gentleman. Not far from them stood Jade and Trent, wrapped in an embrace, giggling and whispering into each other's ears.

Through the rim of her bonnet, she saw his booted leg step beside her. "I thought you said you are not going."

"I was not. In fact, I should be with my friends for a ride around the estate."

"Then why are you here?"

"I never accepted the invitation of my friends. And I never said I am not joining this excursion."

The boat came to a slight jolt as the anchor lifted. Sasha's hand gripped the railing before her. West's hand came to rest on the small of her back when she swayed.

Instantly, the memory of last night in the library came flashing before her eyes.

She remembered the sound of books falling on the floor, the hot rasp breath in her ear, and the rough, soft feel of his mouth against her lips, her jaw... her neck.

His hand...

Sasha felt heat flush her face. She was turning into a whore, she swore she was.

The schooner began a soft glide away from the dock. People ran up and down the decks, pulling strings. Guests began to feel at ease and move about, carefully walking around to join different circles with food and drinks in their hands.

The strong wind blew her bonnet off her head, the green ribbon nearly choking her neck as it did. She struggled to put it back with one hand.

"Allow me," West said, voice deep and bare of emotion. He turned and reached for the bonnet and snuggled it back on the crown of her head. Next, his hands pulled at the ribbons to adjust them under her chin. As he did so, Sasha moistened her lips, feeling the back of his fingers as they worked. Done with the knot, his hands remained suspended in the air, his fingers lingering just under her chin for a slight caress.

Sasha's eyes slanted upward and met his smoldering gaze. His eyes were searching hers and she saw her own thoughts mirrored in their depths.

He was thinking about last night.

How it started.

And how it ended.

Blinking away, Sasha cleared her throat and turned to face the ocean.

He did the same and the two of them stood there, inches apart, staring straight at the island up ahead.

*****

"You still believe this was a very crazy idea, do you not?"

"Very much so, yes," West grumbled hours later, gritting his teeth as he pulled his booted foot out of the mud.

Sasha hid her amusement by looking up ahead of the path they were taking. The smell of spring was in the air. The grass had begun to sprout from the once-frozen ground. Soon, the island would be covered in green; flowers would spread and boast their beauty under the bright sun.

From the distance, Sasha could see Ruby and the rest of the people in their group of ten having a hard time.

"Fret not, sir, you are not alone," she told him, facing him to display the wide grin on her face.

He looked down at her feet and frowned. "How is it that your feet look the same since we left the mainland?"

Her eyes slanted downward, following his gaze. A small chuckle escaped her throat. "It is not the feet, I believe. It is the talent. I have learned how to navigate through the most dangerous grounds, shall we say."

He scoffed. "Have you now?" Straightening to full height to return on their track, he added, "One of the many things Belcourt teach you?"

"No, of course not. You should see my carriage driver's boots even after a trip downtown. And she did not even leave her seat behind the horses." His lips quirked at her wit. "I have once walked all of twenty miles in the rain."

He stopped walking to rake his eyes over her face, one brow slanting with skepticism. His expression caused Sasha to softly laugh. "Surely you are overdrawing."

She shook her head. "No, I really did walk those twenty miles in the rain."

Still looking unconvinced, West asked, "And when was this?"

There was no need to think of her answer for that day would forever be in her memory, her mind constantly counting the days since then. When she replied, the hint of her laughter was gone. "Fifteen years ago. Before I came to Belcourt."

A long pause. He must be curious, she thought.

Or simply did not care, the voice in her head whispered when he continued walking without another question.

*****

They arrived in an open field where a picnic was already set up for them. Dozens of other parties who arrived first from the schooner were already having a grand feast, most of them scattered, taking a walk with their partners or friends.

They were surrounded by trees that blocked the strong breeze from the ocean around the island.

By the time they had their fill and tea was served, a few men decided to hike further up the path that would lead to the cliffs. Some women were trying to dissuade them, saying it was utterly dangerous. The wind was strong, and anyone could fall by accident.

"We should join," Sasha announced, surprising West.

"No," he sternly said.

"I have never been to a cliff."

"And it would be your last one should you fall."

"I will not come to the edge." She began to walk away, following the tiny group of men and at least three women who had already started the hike.

West looked around but Ruby and Jade simply shrugged, saying, "Let her be. She can do whatever she likes."

Half an hour later, West was holding Sasha's arm as she looked down at the cliff, screaming something he could not hear.

With his right hand, he motioned for her to step back.

"What?" he read through her lips.

"Step back! Bloody hell, Sasha, do you wish to be dead!" he shouted over the strong wind.

Her hat was hanging behind her head, blown by the wind, and secured by the ribbon around her neck. Her brown hair was all over her flushed grinning face.

When she made another attempt to step closer to the edge, West pulled her back.

She did not fight him when he began to drag her back to safety.

"Did you see the giant waves?" she asked behind him.

"No. What I saw was your soul floating up from the bloody ocean if I let go," he said through gritted teeth. His hand tightened around hers. "We should return to the picnic. The others must be on their way back to the schooner."

When she made a move to follow the other hikers already making their way back down to the camp, West pulled at her hand, the motion whirling her around to face him. "Your face is sunburnt," he commented under his breath, a frown on his face as he reached for her bonnet. Pulling the ribbons free from under her chin, while she tried to gather the strands of hair floating around with the wind, West placed her bonnet back over her head. "Hold," he ordered. With one hand, she held her hat in place while he tied the ribbons under her chin.

With her chin tilted up, their eyes locked to each other.

The wind seemed to have gone quiet.

"What is it?" she asked, a small smile still tugging at her lips.

He realized he liked her this way. He was pleased to know that she was confident enough to hold her back while she placed her life at risk in the thrill of the moment standing on the edge of that cliff.

"What?" she laughingly repeated when West did not reply.

"Why did you walk the twenty miles in the rain?" he found himself asking.

She was stunned by his question, West realized. Then he saw the regret cross her eyes, clouding the joy that glimmered there earlier. She was wishing she did not share that story with him.

"I did not have a carriage back then," was her witty reply. She started to turn to say, "We must keep moving. We don't want them to leave us behind here," but West caught her hand and pulled her toward him.

"You got scared last night," he said.

Her brows cocked high, surprised by the sudden accusation. She incredulously gasped. "Of course not," she said, looking over her shoulder. "Can we discuss this while walking? Or perhaps not at all."

"No."

She dropped her shoulders. "I told you I needed to go."

His eyes raked her face. Her lips looked inviting, and he knew in his mind—good Lord, he knew how they tasted, how they could be pliant and sweet. "You scurried away."

Her eyes, curious now, but could easily be unguarded, languorous, and wild when she was searing with passion. "Then what did you expect me to do?" she asked.

West's eyes dipped down to her lips. "You could have said something."

Her frown slowly disappeared, replaced by something else entirely. "Something such as?"

His finger hooked the strands of hair across her face and tucked them behind her ear. Her face moved against his hand ever so slightly. "You tell me." It was amazing how he could still maintain his barren tone, masking the intense want for this woman. What he was suggesting now was complete madness, yet he was acknowledging that now. He bent his head and brushed his lips against hers, saying, "What would have you said?"

"Good night?"

His lips brushed against hers again.

The tip of her tongue moistened her lips. "I could have said we cannot do it again." He nodded, nuzzling his nose against hers. "But I did not, did I?"

West's lips stretched against hers. "No, you did not."

"And we could do it again, yes?"

"Of course."

"Because it is not against the agreement."

He planted a soft, moist kiss on her lips. "No."

"Sasha!" The distant call from the field below caused her to flinch, but West held her by the arms, keeping her pressed firmly against him. As her name was called one more time, West opened his mouth over hers and claimed her mouth... hard, deep, and needy.

His nose flared as he breathed her scent, intoxicated by the smell of the ocean in her hair, aroused by the mere taste of her tongue, the touch of her hands clasping his coat, pulling him down toward her to deepen the kiss.

His arms wound around her, crushing her, wanting more, needing more than a kiss.

Their once harmless game had escalated to this and it seemed it was not going to be over soon.

In fact, it had just begun.