He stroked the length of her back, tiptoeing his fingers over her spine. “I was being an arse. It’s none of my business.”
“Three. I thought you should know that I’m not quite the harlot I’ve been painted.”
“Was one your palace guard?”
“Richard? No. I rather lost interest in him when I learned he believed the rumors that were being spread about me.”
“Does Beatrix still work at the palace?”
“Would you challenge her to a duel for my honor?”
“I bloody well might.”
She wondered if he could feel her smile against his skin. “She was let go, without a reference apparently. The last time I spotted her, she was employed as a maid-of-all-work for a tradesman and his family, which included six children, so I imagine she is kept quite busy.”
She enjoyed just lying here with him, talking, feeling the rumbling in his chest whenever he spoke.
“I’m glad she paid a price for her betrayal.”
“I am as well. After her, I couldn’t bring myself to trust anyone, not completely. It’s one of the reasons I’m viewed as heartless. I locked so much of myself away.” But somehow he’d found a key or perhaps he’d merely picked the lock to her heart.
“It’s difficult to trust when someone tosses that precious gift aside.” He turned his head toward her and slipped a finger beneath her chin, tilting it up, until he could hold her gaze. “Your previous lovers... did you trust them?”
Stacking her hands beneath her chin, shestudied him. “Not for anything more than a few romps.”
“Does that apply to me?”
She was taken aback by how serious he sounded, as though the answer mattered. “I haven’t quite decided about you yet.”
She released a squeal when he flipped her onto her back and pounced on top of her. “Then let me see what I can do about that,” he said, just before claiming her mouth.
He was going to destroy her resolve, work his way permanently into her heart—a heart he’d probably have no interest in holding forever. But once his, she didn’t know how it would ever belong to anyone else.
Chapter 17
They were late to breakfast. To be honest, she was surprised they’d made it at all. Every time she got up to don her clothes, he’d watch her with a predatory gleam and just when she was almost put together, he’d remove every item and take her again. It was a wonder she could walk with the touch of soreness between her legs indicating how well and often she’d been pleasured.
Finally, with a teasing laugh, she’d run naked to her own bedchamber and locked the door. She couldn’t recall ever feeling so young and uninhibited. She wanted to skip through fields of flowers, twirl about in the rain.
Now he sat across from her at the small square table where they ate from the plates a footman had brought to them earlier before departing. She’d sent Brewster to fetch two copies of theTimesso they could catch up on the latest news.Not that Marcus was paying much heed to reading the words inked upon paper. Instead, he continually gave her come-hither looks that warmed her to her core. She suspected they’d be returning to bed once they’d had their fill of bacon, eggs, sausage, and toast.
Or as they were alone, perhaps he’d simply knock everything off the table and spread her out on it. Yes, she was rather certain that was what he was contemplating. “Behave yourself,” she stated succinctly.
He grinned. “I think you prefer me when I don’t.”
“You’re such a randy gent.”
“Only because you’re so becoming and incredibly difficult to resist. And you blush when I whisper naughty words in your ear.”
He’d done that during their last foray in the bed, and she’d never been so titillated. “Read your newspaper.”
“It’s not nearly as interesting as you.”
“You don’t have to give me false words. You’ve had me already.”
“They’re not false. Every aspect of you fascinates me. I like discovering new things about you.”
Through him she was discovering new things about herself. That she could indeed climax with a man buried deep inside her. Was it because her previous lovers hadn’t gone to the bother that Marcus did to ensure she lost complete control or was it more that she hadn’t trusted them enoughto let herself become so uncontrolled? She’d always been a bit self-conscious about her scar and what it visibly symbolized. Perhaps she had felt a bit less of a woman, but with Marcus she found nothing lacking in herself because he found nothing lacking in her.
