“They have been harsh on everyone. She isn’t the only one who suffered.”
“Why are you so unfair to her?”
Paul turned serious. “She didn’t believe me when I told her about the Fenians. Her precious papa couldn’t possibly be at fault.”
“She was in shock,” Keith said. “What was she supposed to do? And you were robbing her father’s safe.”
Paul pressed two fingers to his temples. “I panicked, all right? I was worried the police would arrest my mother and me. We had nothing. No money, no home, and no job. If we’d stayed, between the police accusing us of anarchism and the peoplehating us for having worked for Mr. Sharpe, we’d be starving in some rookery.”
“That’s exactly what happened to Violante.” Keith arched his brow. “Have some compassion, mate.”
Paul exhaled. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Paul paused before leaving. “Talk to the count again if you can, please.”
Keith exited the bedroom and headed towards the garden. He needed Violante now. When he arrived at the garden, she wasn’t on the path where he’d spotted her earlier. He peered at the entrance of the maze, and there she was, twirling her parasol and gazing around.
He strode towards her, already feeling his chest lighter. She turned around and laughed upon seeing him, but the closer he came, the more she stepped back.
He paused. She paused.
A game. He was all for it. He ran towards her. She giggled and darted along the aisle. The gravel crunched under his shoes as he chased her in full pursuit. Her fluttery pink skirt gave her away, and he spotted her when she rounded a corner. The fluffy flounces of her petticoats created a hide-and-seek game with her lovely legs he fully appreciated. He sped up, glad he’d trained every day for the past years. Because he didn’t want to lose this game.
She let out a squeal when he nearly caught her. He coiled an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, somehow avoiding the parasol.
“You ran from me,” he said, breathing her scent.
“I thought you would enjoy the challenge.” She closed the parasol and kissed him.
All the tension of the day disappeared. He lost himself in the sweetness of her demanding lips. Her breasts pressed against hischest as she deepened the kiss, darting her little tongue out. She was growing bolder, and he loved it. He thrust his tongue inside her velvety mouth and forgot about the world and its problems.
“I missed you,” she whispered.
“So did I.”
He took her hand and led her to the spectacular orangery rising from a corner. The large windows showed glimpses of orange and lemon trees, but the thick brick walls made the structure look like a cottage. Bougainville, palm trees, and other Mediterranean plants competed for space among pools of water and marble benches. The scent of orange blossom filled the air.
“It’s stunning,” Violante said, admiring the luscious plants.
He led her to the end of the orangery where a storeroom would provide more privacy.
He kissed her again once he locked the door and they were out of sight. Not the most romantic of places, even though the storeroom was cosy and pretty, but he wasn’t in a romantic mood now. He unfastened her dress with impatient fingers. So many damn layers. The hooks of the corset opposed some resistance, but he conquered them until only her chemise covered her beautiful breasts.
“You’re quite eager—” The rest of her sentence turned into a moan when he pulled down the neckline of her chemise and closed his mouth around her nipple.
He tongued her nipples until they were two hard peaks and she writhed against his mouth. She whispered something he was too busy to understand. The skirts proved to be equally uncooperative when he shoved them away to reach her core. Hellfire. She was wet and dripping. Ready for him. But he’d rather cut his own bollocks than take her in a garden shed like an animal in heat. He ignored the throb in his shaft and sank two fingers inside her. Hot velvet. She was very tight. Sucking her nipple deeper into his mouth, he added a third finger andstretched her more. She gripped his shoulders almost painfully, squeezing her thighs together.
“Please,” she begged, watching him.
He rubbed her with his thumb and kept tonguing her breast until her inner muscles milked his fingers and she moaned in pleasure. Her release transformed her face, reddening her lips and making her eyes shine with violet sparks. She was a goddess, and he was her devout worshipper.
“You’re so beautiful.” He kissed her, rubbing her.
She was so responsive that he wasn’t surprised when she grew wet again. He worked slowly and drew lazy circles while sucking her nipple.
“Heaven, Keith.” She breathed faster.
