“You are mine now, poppet,” he said in a strangled whisper.
“Yes,” she murmured.But are you mine?Kate couldn’t manage the words.And even if she could, would the answer be what she wanted to hear?
Grayson swore silently at what had been his worst performance since a lovely and lonely widow initiated him into the rites of love at a tender age.Barring that first instance, none of his encounters had been this brief, and he nearly cringed at the thought.
If he had been with anyone else, he might have stalked out of the room.But Kate was his wife, and beneath his disgust with himself was the stunning awareness that he had never experienced such bliss before in his life.
It was her doing, of course.Lifting his head, he hazarded a glance at her, but saw no recrimination there.She was not an experienced mistress who would sulk at his perceived selfishness.Yet he wanted to please her more than any woman he had ever taken to his bed.
And so he proceeded to do so, resuming his movements as though he had not blundered like a green boy.And once himself again, he brought her to the brink over and over.This was the lovemaking he was accustomed to, and yet it wasn’t, for instead of his usual detachment, Grayson felt a deep, fulfilling…somethingfor Kate that made their union more than just mutual pleasure.
His perceptions seemed heightened, his body more alive than ever before, his mind more fully engaged.Perhaps it was because he had waited so long to have her, but that did not explain his continuing, driving need to claim her for his own and never let her go.
***
Afterward, Grayson lay awake for a long time, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling, while Kate dozed.He was used to sleeping alone, and the feel of her slender body curled up next to him, her hair brushing against his chest, was both strange and delightful.
Frowning at the thought, he decided to put her to bed in the other room.But when he moved, it was only to tighten his arm around her, pulling her closer.
He bit back an oath, for this was worse than he’d suspected.The want that he had hoped to vanquish tonight had only grown, tipping perilously close to need.Grayson’s free hand clenched at the thought of such a weakness.He ought to get up and go somewhere—anywhere—just to prove he could.
But he didn’t.
He lay there and let the soft warmth of her breath brush his skin and the subtle scent of her perfume fill his head until he wanted her once more, his body ignoring the control he had displayed all his life.
Until tonight.Grayson drew in a sharp breath at the reminder.He had acted like a boy, not the man he was known to be, and had lost mastery of himself.And instead of his usual eloquence he had been reduced to incoherent grunts and murmurs.Perhaps Raleigh was right, and next he would be beating his breast like a jungle beast.
The thought was galling.Grayson had always been certain that nothing was more powerful than the intellect he used to harness his wealth, his influence, and his life.But now something was happening to him, changing him, and he did not like it.
It had begun here, at Hargate, a sort of disorientation that eroded his composure.Perhaps all he needed was a different locale, a return to his own milieu.Retirement to the country had banished his ennui, but now it was time to go back to the familiar world of Town and the responsibilities he had neglected.
Grayson released a long breath as he considered such a course.He could present his new bride to thetonand take some amusement in their astonished reactions.He could begin proceedings to regain Kate’s inheritance and retake the reins of his varied business and political dealings.Action.That was all he needed to regain a sense of normalcy.
His certainty faded as Kate stirred in her sleep and slid a silky thigh across his.Gritting his teeth, Grayson wondered if she would lose her luster among the glittering ladies of London.Perhaps then he would gain some respite from this endless wanting.He ran a hand over her shoulder to quiet her, but her knee grazed his groin, and he shuddered.Would his craving for her never cease?
Maybe just one more time would ease it.Grayson stroked her back and turned toward her, letting his fingers roam her silky skin, his lips brushing against hers.She sighed gently and opened her mouth for him, lifting her arms to pull him close, and he was lost again.
Kate turned, snuggling against her pillow and clinging to the remnants of a delightful dream.A dream about Grayson.A dream in which their marriage was not one of convenience, but of mutual desire and… She blinked, a warm, slow awareness seeping through her at the realization that all of it was true.
Grayson had not wed her out of pity or duty or amusement.He feltsomethingfor her.She had seen it in his eyes and the taut lines of his body and in the control he had lost because of his passion forher.
Kate stretched, a long, languid sigh escaping from her lips, for she was happier than she had ever thought to be, happy beyond her wildest imaginings.The marriage that only yesterday she had viewed with grim resignation now loomed before her like a brightly colored package waiting to be opened.What a difference a single night had made upon her outlook.
Her pleasant musings were interrupted by the soft sound of footfalls, and she looked up to see Grayson entering from the other bedroom.Through the doorway she could hear Badcock’s voice echoing behind, and she scooted under the covers, hoping the manservant would not come in while she was here.
“Ah, good.You are awake at last,” Grayson said over his shoulder as he walked toward the dresser.Something in his tone, a thread of brittle coolness, made Kate eye him carefully.He was fully dressed in the finest of riding clothes, the very picture of the elegant lord.
Kate swallowed uncertainly.“Grayson?You’re up early.”
“Early?”he said, a faint mocking edge to his voice as he barely glanced at her.“I think not.You are the slugabed, for it is past noon.”
Past noon?Kate sat up, pulling the blanket to her neck as she studied Grayson’s fashionably attired back.She had never slept so late, but then, she had never spent the night entangled with a man, either.She flushed, embarrassed to be lingering among the rumpled sheets while Grayson seemed so far removed from them.
“Since I’ve no dressing closet, I finally called Badcock into the adjoining room,” he said, recapturing her attention.
Befuddled, Kate stared at his coat, wishing he would face her.“Badcock?”
He did turn then, to fix her with a dispassionate gaze.“He is my valet.I could hardly let him perform his duties while you’re lying in my bed.”
