“And I would prefer to stay in bed with you today,” he said, brushing a thumb over her red cheek. It sent a pleasant chill down her spine. “There is so much more I’d like to do.”
“You’re a scoundrel,” she teased.
With a light chuckle, Ben leaned back against the headboard and stretched his long legs out in front of him. There was a deviousness about him as he watched her with hooded eyes. Remi felt his gaze everywhere. “Why don’t we play a game?”
“I don’t know,” she said cautiously. “I sense you’re leading me into something I might regret.”
“A simple game of questions and answers.” He shrugged. “But first, you should take that off.”
He lifted a hand and gave the sheet she wore a small tug.
“I might,” she said, clutching it closer to her breast, “if you give me a straight answer for once.”
Ben laughed. “Fine, fine.”
“What sort of questions am I allowed?”
“They must be direct questions,” he said, “and you must give direct answers. Always tell the truth.”
The truth? Remi squirmed. “How many am I allowed?”
“Five questions.” He held up a hand. “Are you ready?”
Remi mirrored his gesture and nodded.
“Then my first question,” Ben started. “Was I your first?”
A blush crept across her cheeks and warmed her chest. She drew the bedsheet closer and sucked in a breath. His brows shot up, wide-eyed when she said, “No.”
“I want details.” He breathed in deeply, his nostrils flared.
“Not without asking a question,” she reminded him.
He held her gaze, his stubbornness draining as she held fast. Finally, he relented, and Remi went next.
“Since you asked such a personal question of me, then I must know, how many women have you shared a bed with?”
“Excluding present company...” He smirked, drawling each syllable suggestively. “More than I can count on two hands. Had you asked me about my first, I would have told you what an experience that was.”
“A good one, I hope.”
Ben shook his head and grinned. “For neither of us, I’m afraid. She was a good sport about it all, though.”
Remi hid her face, embarrassed by his brazen reply.
He laughed again.
Remi realized this was the most she’d heard him laugh in a long time. He so rarely smiled either, but that seemed to have passed, replaced by good humor and lifted spirits. Her toes curled at the thought that she might have contributed to his change in mood.
She wasn’t sure if she would survive his game if his questions were going to be so revealing. “Your turn,” she mumbled.
“Who were you with?”
Sorrowfully, she answered, “Leith.”
Ben’s expression sunk. “I apologize. That was unfair of me.”
“It’s the truth. I’ve no need to hide it any longer.” But she avoided his gaze, instead staring into the bottom of her cup; empty though it was, it felt heavy in her hands. “Did you ever love any of the women you were with?”
“Love?” He leaned back, crossing his arms at his chest. His dark hair fell over his face. “No...not that I can remember. I enjoyed their company, and they enjoyed my money, but there was never love.”
“I loved Leith,” she said, but quickly added, “Not in the way that you might think. He was one of my dearest friends.”
“After I was gone,” Ben said. It was not a question.
Remi snuggled up closer to him, brushing her fingers along the roots of his hair. “Would it comfort you to know that the boy who used to live here, in this manor, was my first love? I kissed him once in a dusty attic.”
“It would.” He sounded pained, though, as if thinking about what could have been hurt too much.
“Ben?”
“I blame my father for what’s happened.”
Remi tilted her head. “What do you mean by that?”
“If he hadn’t sent me away...if only I had been here.” Ben stopped himself and paused, collecting his thoughts. “My family has a talent for making rash decisions.”
“What do you mean?”
