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“Indeed, thanks to you.”

He paused and she could not resist meeting his gaze to understand why.

“I cannot stand this idle chatter anymore, Rosie.” He stepped forward, swept a hand under her leg and shifted her into his arms. “I’m taking you to bed.”

Rosie gasped. “Put me down!” Around them, patrons turned to watch them, and she tapped his arm. “You cannot just come in here and expect to take me to bed!”

“I think you’ll change your mind after a kiss.”

She pressed a finger to his lips before he could bend in and give her one. “You, sir, are being outrageous.”

“Probably.” He shrugged. “Harriet, you can see to things can you not?”

Harriet waved a hand at him with a bold smile. “Of course.”

Adam ducked through the door leading to the stairwell. Rosie wriggled unsuccessfully in his hold. “Whatever are you doing?”

“Taking you away from work for one moment.”

“If you think you can just return here and use me like one of your lovers—”

“I rather hoped you’ll be my only lover, Rosie.”

“And then leave—”

“And I have no desire to leave.”

“And behave as a rich noble toward me, simply gaining his pleasure, then—”

He pressed a firm kiss to her lips, forcing her to quieten before drawing back and swiftly carrying her up the stairs. He did not stop until he stepped into her bedroom, kicked the door shut and put her on the bed.

Mouth ajar, she scrabbled to stand, finding herself tangled in the blankets and fighting to unwind them from her legs. “Adam, what the devil are you doing? You cannot just—”

He tugged away his neckcloth and she heard the pin clatter to the floor. “Two months and I’ve missed you every day.”

She said nothing. She did not dare. If she did, the gaping wound he’d left in her heart would reveal itself.

Stalking over, his jaw set determinedly, he eased her back on the bed and positioned himself over her, fists pressed into the bedding to either side of her. She gulped down a breath, feeling the heat of his body and a tremble ran through her.

“You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met.”

“Good,” she murmured, putting a hand to his chest. “Now let me get back to work.”

“Not until we have come to an agreement.”

Rosie scowled. “Agreement?”

“About our future?”

“If this is about the ale—”

“Damn it, Rosie, it is most certainly not about the ale.” He shook his head. “This is about us.”

“I am not willing to be a mistress. You know that.”

“Why on earth do you think I want a mistress?”

“What else can there be?” She tried to keep the quiver from her voice, aware she was but a thread from snapping and throwing it all to the wind. Let her be a mistress. So long as she had Adam. But how could she live in such a manner? Never knowing when he might come and go or when he might tire of her. That would be worse than never seeing him again surely?