“She no longer cares if I move about unescorted. I’ve been compromised. What further damage can be done?”
“The night we were caught, we didn’t get a chance to conclude what we’d begun.”
Another laugh, easy and airy, that lightened his soul. “That seems to be a habit with us,” she said.
“A bed is much more comfortable than a table. I’d be more than pleased to demonstrate... so you can add to your repertoire of things to analyze.”
His hand still rested against her cheek. She intertwined her fingers with his, holding him in place as she turned her head and pressed a kiss to the center of his palm. It was a simple touching and yet his body reacted as though she’d gone down on her knees. Everything about her was sensual. Little wonder he couldn’t resist her.
He lifted her into his arms, grateful she didn’t object, but her eyes did widen, more in wonder than in shock. Then she buried her face in the small space where his skin rested against his neckcloth. She swirled her tongue over the sensitive flesh. The pleasure that rippled through him should have caused his steps to stutter. Instead, it energized him as he marched from the room, determined that this time there would be no interruptions. This time, he would take her and shower her in ecstasy.
Because if he’d learned anything at all that afternoon it was that he was damned glad he hadn’t married Rachel. He’d thought he’d loved her, but he was no longer certain what his feelings for her had been because she’d stirred nothing to life within him when he’d set eyes upon her again after all these years. And it had little to do with her betrayal and more to do with the woman presently in his arms. He’d have never been unfaithful, which meant he’d have never kissed Nora, much less have enjoyed the taste of her. He’d have never experienced how snugly she enveloped his cock. It was unlikely that he’d have known her laugh, learned of her devotion to her father, or caught a glimpse into the inner workings of her meticulous mind that could envision what others failed to see.
She was an inventor, an explorer, a discoverer. She was interesting in ways that other women he’d metweren’t. She didn’t pore over the latest fashions, share gossip, or mock those around her. She cared about springs and bolts and cogs.
And he hoped she cared about him, at least to a degree that would provide them with an amicable marriage. She lusted after him, if the nibbling she began on his ear was any indication. He certainly wanted—needed—the sexual satisfaction she could provide.
The escape from his troubles, his burdens.
He’d known meeting with his half-siblings would not be easy. Many were angry or resentful, taking their frustrations out on him, as if he was responsible for their father’s actions. But knowing Nora was near, having a moment to think about her between visitors had always helped to restore his equilibrium.
Now he wanted to thank her, even if she didn’t realize what a help she’d been, even if she didn’t realize how much he’d come to rely on her presence. He’d spent much of his life striving not to be beholden, to not open himself up to hurt—but he needed her in ways he’d never needed anyone. It was a bit terrifying. Yet he wasn’t quite ready to escort her back to the hotel.
But to his bedchamber was another matter.
With her licking the swirls of his ear, he strode through the doorway, kicked the door closed behind him, and headed for the bed. No reason to play coy or to pretend they weren’t here for any other reason than to scratch the itch that had gone unfulfilled a few nights earlier. Christ, he’d missed her. Crossing her path at balls, sneaking off into nooks and gardens or a scandalous club. Kissing her senseless while she did the same with him.
Before her, he’d always been able to retain controlof his desires. Not once before had he ever taken a risk of being caught—not even with Rachel. He’d never placed her in a situation that could be considered compromising. Resistance had been... damned easy, he realized now that he’d become involved with a woman who made it damned hard.
While neither of them might have wanted marriage, they had wanted this. Desperately. To touch with mouth and hands. To explore each other.
Slowly he lowered her feet to the floor and took possession of her sweet mouth. Her sweet mouth that caused so many wicked thoughts to bombard him. He’d never grow tired of her. He knew that with a certainty that astounded him.
Leonora should have resisted, should have left. But she understood that they needed to finish what they’d begun, or it would forever plague them. No matter what roads—or seas—they traveled.
They were making plans for a wedding that she wasn’t convinced would occur. Shame had driven him to insist they marry. His father’s death had burdened him, leaving him no chance to ponder the unpleasant consequences of following this course. Therefore, it was left to her to make the hard choices, to ensure no regrets haunted their future.
But this, the way his luscious mouth moved so provocatively over hers, was not a mistake. It was something she craved, as a rose in the desert did water. It provided sustenance and eventually memories. Of his lips and tongue doing naughty things that felt so incredibly right.
And his hands, his fingers, working to undo lacings, setting buttons free, moving cloth aside. She wondered if he enjoyed her doing the same with his clothing. She supposed so, since he would stop to remove anything that had been liberated. Coat, neckcloth, waistcoat, shirt.
Her fingers were trembling when they moved to the buttons of his trousers. He stilled. His eyes held hers. She watched the movement of his throat as he swallowed. She leaned up and licked his skin. She enjoyed licking him.
With each button she released, his breath became a little more labored, sawing in and out, a runner preparing to sprint. When his cock sprung free of its confines, she wrapped her hands around it. He slammed his eyes closed, his jaw tightened as though he was in pain... or perhaps ecstasy. When he opened his eyes, she saw the fire there, the need, the need he’d always kept hidden from her, whether by banking it or becoming lost in the shadows.
She knew a few seconds of remorse for not recognizing what his previous actions might have cost him, how much he’d given to her without asking for anything in return. Until the greenhouse. Until he’d been unable to resist all she offered.
Moving slightly until her breasts were pressed to his chest, she slowly lowered herself to her knees and did to him what he’d once done to her. She licked the most intimate part of him. His groan was as rewarding as listening to all the parts in a factory assembling a weapon or, soon, a writing machine.
Then she took him in, sliding her mouth down the length of him. Growling with a feral intensity, he buried his fingers in her hair. She heard hairpins clicking as they fell around her just before her hair tumbled down. His hands knotted in the loosened strands.
He wasn’t keeping her there or holding her captive. Following her movements, he gently massaged her scalp as she massaged him. She could sense the tension in him, as though what he was experiencing was almost too much, was taking him by storm, was consuming him. She understood those sensations. Because of him, because of all he’d been willing to do and show her. He was hers.
Had been hers from the beginning. But even now, the doubts plagued her, because just like in the beginning, he was here out of obligation. He may have sought her out, come to her willingly, in the greenhouse but duty would drive him to the church. A need to prove he was unlike his father would see them wed.
She remembered telling Lord Camberley she would choose happiness over love. Now she was settling for neither.
She shoved all those disturbing thoughts aside so they wouldn’t taint what was happening now. She needed the beauty of what transpired between a couple, the glory to be found in sex, because she suspected she might never have this experience again, of being with a man she’d come to love.
