" I’m,” he swallowed thickly, unsure of why he wanted-no needed to explain his
behavior to her. “I am not comfortable amongst the ton. I’m a solitary person, I keep my own counsel, and prefer to do so.”
“You’re lonely.”
He stopped then, shocked by her words, by her perception of him. He’d made
himself vulnerable, let himself weaken as her soft body melded with his. She saw too much, knew too much.
“This,” he said, his voice cracking with desire, with the pain of what he knew he must do. “I can’t….”
“Just let me in,” she whispered.
“I’m afraid you would not like what you see.”
“Trust me,” she said, her tempting mouth only inches away from his.

-Blaine and Madeline. "

― Charlotte Featherstone , Mistress of the Night