“But you already—”
“Here.” He pressed his finger to the bud between her legs, already hard and begging for him.
She panted against his mouth when he kissed her again. “You can’t.”
“I can.”
“It isn’t—it can’t—”
“Let me show you, Mad. Let me be your first.”
The silk of the open robe pooled around her as he pressed her back on the bed. The muslin of her gown skimmed her legs like cream. He knelt on the rug and pressed her knees apart.
“I’m not supposed to,” she whispered.
“You can do anything you like, with me.” He skimmed the soft curls at her apex, slid his fingers along the slick folds, learning her contours. Then he blew a breath on the tender skin, and she whimpered.
She pressed her hands over her eyes, and he growled. “Watch me.”
“I can’t—I don’t—” She went completely still when he put his mouth on her. “Oh.”
She was so responsive to him, so open. Garrick feared he was going to spill in his breeches just from the sounds she made as he administered this most intimate kiss. Mad’s body was an instrument designed for his hands, his mouth. She let him know what pleased her, surrendering, lifting, and in no time at all he had her strung as tight as a bow, vibrating, on the cusp. And then he sent her crashing over, reveling in the tiny bud pulsing between his lips while her body shook around him and he knew he’d done it. Broken through her last defenses. Shown her how it would be between them. Why she belonged to him.
“I…” She didn’t have words, merely stared at the design on the canopy as he stretched out on the bed beside her. Garrick couldn’t keep the smugness out of his tone.
“I’ll make it like that all the time, Mad. I promise.”
She was so beautiful, and such a contradiction, her hair tightly coiled, her gown properly pinned, her body still humming with the force of her climax. He tugged her gown over her kneesand fondled her breasts back into her bodice. He felt the triumph of conquest. She was his now. Completely.
“We should return so we aren’t missed. But I want you to know I will walk around all night with your taste on my lips. And I hope you’ll remember my mouth on you every time some bloke is boasting to you, trying to get your attention.”
She turned those hazy eyes to him and sat up. Her lips were full and well-kissed, but her eyes were troubled as her gaze wandered down his body. She considered his prominent erection.
“You didn’t—”
“We’ll deal with me later. I couldn’t go one more night without touching you.”
This was the kind of declaration that should have rendered her to melted butter. She should be thinking of nothing but how soon she could get him to pleasure her again.
He was willing to let it be very, very soon. Again tonight, if she wanted.
She stood and shook out her gown, tilted her head as she regarded him.
“You know something about Constantin that you’re not telling me.”
He froze, as if drenched with cold water. He stood to face her. “Why do you think that?”
She swiped at her cheek, angrily, as if a tear were threatening to spill over. “Barty was corresponding with someone for us. That’s why I was sneaking through your desk, you dolt. But you won’t tell me what he found, or what you know.” She sniffled. “I cannot trust you.”
“Mad.” Her words rent his heart. “You can.You can.”
“I cannot!” she cried. “You’ve been gone for years. I don’t know you at all anymore, Garrick. I loved you when I was a girl, yes. Madly. With my whole heart. But we are not those childrenanymore.” She wiped her cheeks with both hands. “We’ve grown up. Grown apart.”
“Mad, no.” His heart raced. He’d been waiting for her all this time. Waiting forhimselfto grow up, it was true. To be the man worthy of her. “You asked me before. I’m saying yes.”
“I proposed a silly arrangement where I would have your name and require nothing else of you. I thought…I don’t know. That I could win you by faithfulness alone. I know now how stupid I was to dream that.”
She turned and headed for the door, the train of her gown whispering over the carpet. “I can’t do it, Garrick. I can’t be the wife who is left behind while you go merrily about with your women. And I won’t be like the Duchess of Devonshire, either, permitting your mistress to live in our house. Making her my bosom friend because I don’t have your esteem and your love.”
