Had he been about to kiss Lady Mary Kinson?
John unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt as he prepared for bed. It must be their location and current situation influencing his actions. Because he certainly did not want to kiss Mary. She was not at all who he wanted. He glanced at the privacy screen behind which she was currently getting ready for bed. She had felt awfully good in his arms...
With a groan, he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it on a chair. They needed to find Jane and leave this party. It was putting thoughts in his head that did not belong there. Being in a room filled with people touching and kissing was disconcerting at best. He'd never quite experienced anything like it, and Mary must have similar feelings. As a young woman, she'd be far more sheltered than he. She must be in shock.
Leaving his trousers on, he climbed into bed. Separate ones would have been preferable, but asking for it would blow their cover, so they had to make do. A moment later, Mary came out from behind the screen wearing a modest nightgown that covered her from neck to ankles. At least the Rose Agency's tailor had not supplied her with some ridiculous sleepwear to match the scandalous gowns for the party.
Her steps faltered as she saw him in the bed. Had she forgotten they agreed to share?
"Would you prefer I sleep on the floor?" he asked politely.
"Oh, no. That's not necessary." Her green eyes met his, and he realised she had been looking at his bare chest. He'd left the bed sheets down while waiting for her, and they rested low on his waist.
"I can put my shirt back on if you'd like."
She shook her head. "No need. If you don't usually wear a nightshirt, I don't expect you to don one for my sake."
He didn't usually sleep with his trousers on either, but he didn't point that out. Most commonly, one would wear a nightshirt and no trousers to bed, but he had always preferred sleeping with neither in the summer, constantly feeling hot. Sharing a bed with Mary, he didn't think it would be right to choose the traditional sleeping attire. Neither of them wanted him with bare bottoms.
With a yawn, she lay down next to him and pulled the sheets up to cover them both. Blowing out the candle next to the bed, he settled back down and tried to ignore the fact that there was a warm body only a few inches from his own. He focused on his breathing. Continuous, steady breaths would soon lull him to sleep. In. Out. In. Ou—
"I've never shared a bed with a man before." Mary's voice cut through his concentration.
"Me neither," he said before instantly regretting it.
A quiet chuckle sounded next to him. "No, I reckon you'd share with women."
Staring into the darkness of the room, he didn't answer. The mattress shifted as Mary turned towards him. "Wait... Do you mean you've never shared a bed with anyone?"
"I've—" His cheeks burned, and he was rather grateful for the dark of the room. "I've done... things. But, no... I've never shared a bed with a woman."
"Why?" Trust Mary to not simply let the topic go.
"I don't know," he muttered, hoping it was answer enough.
"Is it because you're too dull?" He could hear the smile in her voice but didn't appreciate her humour.
"No," he bit off.
"Sorry, I should not make light of the situation." She reached out to put her hand on his chest but immediately pulled it back when she met with bare skin.
"It's not a situation." He ignored the fact that his chest burned where she had touched him. "It's a choice. I've had the opportunity, but I've chosen not to."
She was silent long enough for him to think she had finally dropped it. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and prepared to count sheep.
"Is it because of Olivia?"
He never should have said anything. Why had he? The expectant silence grated on him.
"It's personal."
"Of course. You're right." She sighed. "I shouldn't have asked."
The mattress shifted again as she flopped herself on her back. Maybe he could finally get some sleep. He just needed to ignore the warm body next to his. That would not lie still. Her bottom brushed against his hand when she turned to her side, and he quickly moved away.
"Do you always fidget this much?" It was almost a growl. He breathed in. There was no reason for his bad temper.
"I'm used to being alone," she muttered. "No one's ever complained before."
"Because no one has shared a bed with you."
"Exactly!"
When she shifted in bed again, her legs tangled in the bedsheets and pulled them partially off him. She must be the most vexing woman of his acquaintance. With a yank, he pulled the sheets back. Only Mary was so twisted in them she came too, her body colliding with his side and her arm stretching over his chest.
He shouldn't be so aware of her, but the warmth of her body against his was more enticing than he cared to admit. Her fingers splayed over his heart as she prepared to shove away from him, but something stopped her, and her hand moved slightly over his heated skin. She hesitated before slowly sliding her hand across his chest, following the gentle curve with her fingertips and leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
Shifting so she could reach his face, her hot breath fanned his ear a moment before she purred, "Maybe we should try some of those things we saw at the party..."
His arse was out of the bed before she could say or do anything further.
"I will sleep on the floor!"
The darkness of their room hid most of her, leaving her a pale apparition in her billowing white nightgown, but he could hear her laughter.
His eyes narrowed. "You are not nearly as amusing as you believe yourself to be."
Her laughter abated, but he could still hear the mirth in her voice. "Really? I thought it was quite amusing, indeed. Never has a man left a woman's bed so swiftly!"
"If you wanted me to sleep on the floor, you only needed to say so." He raked a hand through his hair, grateful for the darkness hiding the uninvited effect her touch and words had on his body. Hell.
"No need. I was only teasing. Revenge for you stealing the covers." It grated on him how entertaining she seemed to find the situation. How unaffected she appeared to be.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he glared at her in the dark. "I only pulled them back after you took them."
"You can't sleep on the floor," she pointed out, sounding all too reasonable. "These are our only bedsheets, and then you'll have none."
"And you would not even let me have the sheets in return for the sole use of the bed? Selfish." He smiled despite his frustration. It was strange, but he enjoyed arguing with her.
She scoffed. "No, why should I go cold simply because you are a prude who can't share a bed?"
"You're the one who wilfully chased me out of it!"
"Do not worry." The white shape moved to the far end of the bed. "I promise I won't do it again. We both know I'm the last person you'd want to do anything beyond sleeping with, anyway."
With a grunt, he got back into bed, lying down on his side with his back towards her. He wasn't so sure about that. His body certainly disagreed.
"Good night, Lady Mary."
"Good night, Dull Osborne."
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Damn if she was not able to defuse the worst of his moods.
~~~~~~