Page 24 of Never Tempt a Widow

Chapter Twelve

Fina was deeply absorbed in shaking a coral teething ring at Edgar. He loved the sound made by the silver bell attached to it but needed to be watched closely lest he put the wrong part in his mouth.

She heard the click of the door opening. “It would please me greatly, Wife, if you would accompany me to dinner with the Hanleys tonight.”

Her head shot up. “Go out?”

“Don’t sound so horrified.” Rowland came into the nursery and nodded at Mrs Sage. The wetnurse curtsied and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Fina didn’t know if a closed door made her feel safer or even less secure. She really shouldn’t be nervous in Rowland’s presence anymore, should she? He’d been nothing but kindness since her illness. Since the first moment she met him, in fact—but she’d learned to take no man at face value. Dundas had fooled her for months.

Rowland knelt beside her, his face lighting up as he greeted Edgar. Then he took her free hand and commenced a rhythmic stroking. He’d taken to doing that kind of thing a lot lately—discreet touches, fond caresses, and even the occasional kiss. But she wouldn’t be fooled by his subtle wooing—not for one moment.

“Why do you still wear gloves, even in front of me?” It was starting to frustrate her. “I am not upset by your disfigurement. I’ve seen your hands when you’re asleep.”

“About that.” He turned her hand and kissed the palm. A whisper of anticipation flickered through her.

Looking up, he made sure he had her full attention. This close, the man fairly took her breath away, and it was an effort not to drown in the sea-blue depths of his eyes.

“Yes?” Her voice was a whisper. Curse it. How did he manage to reduce her to a monosyllabic jelly in a matter of moments?

“I want you to return to my bed. To the world at large, we are newlyweds, and now that you’re well again, we would be expected to be quite… um… busy at bedtime. And at other times too.” His mouth quirked, his eyes sending her a message that her body understood. Lord! He was easily as seductive as Dundas. And could be even more so when he applied himself.

“I don’t know if I can.”

He waved away her objection. “I didn’t agree to be celibate in my marriage. You knew what you were consenting to. I won’t hurt you—I swear. I won’t do anything that bastard did to you.”

She hung her head. It felt awful, concealing the fact that her deflowering by Dundas had occurred with her full cooperation. She didn’t want Rowland to know that she had been such a wanton and knew he’d think less of her when he knew the truth.

She blinked rapidly. When had she decided that she needed his good opinion?

“You’re much better now. We’ve ridden virtually every day since you left your sickbed, further each time. And the colour is back in your cheeks—more than I’ve seen before. You grow more lovely by the minute.”

There was a reason for that heightened colour. “Flatterer.”

“Forgive me—you must hate that. I promise you, I’m not the same kind of man as the villain who raped you. If I can’t give you as much pleasure as I take, I’d rather hang from the nearest gibbet.”

The intensity of his gaze was flame along her skin. He was closer now, his mouth just inches away. She tucked Edgar’s teething ring in her pocket and looked at the child, anything to distract her from the idea of his father doing wicked, wonderful things to her.

“Leave him. He’s asleep now. And he wouldn’t mind anyway.”

Wouldn’t mind what?

Rowland’s arm snaked around her waist, bringing her inexorably closer until his lips met hers. Shocked, thrilled, her body refused to pull away. Her treacherous mouth welcomed the drugging contact of his, and her flesh relished the touch of another’s. Her soul revelled in the fact that someone wanted and desired her.

His kiss was nothing like Dundas’. Dundas had seduced languorously, teasingly. Rowland’s kiss was raw hunger, his lips pressing roughly against hers, his hands knocking off her lacy cap and tangling in her hair.

He paused and drew away, still cradling her head. His blue eyes were bright like leaping flame, and the furrow between his brows had smoothed away. He licked his lips, and she watched his tongue as it moistened the fascinating corners and shadows of his mouth. She wanted to lick them too, to explore them, and commit them to memory, just in case—just in case he never kissed her like that again. That first meeting of lips, that first acceptance between a man and a woman—more telling even than the marriage bed—was to be treasured.

“I… I enjoyed that.”

His brows shot up. Then he gave her a lupine grin. “Thank you, my lady. Happy to oblige. I’m more than ready to please you again.”

A shadow filled her breast. There was something she’d forgotten, something she urgently needed to say. She laid her fingertips on his mouth. “I will sleep in your bed again, sir. Only—don’t make me go to the Hanleys’. I’m really not ready for public duties.”

Sighing, he sat back on his heels. “You give with one hand and take away with the other, Wife. I’d hoped to relax you a little and make it easier to coax you.”

The very last thing that kiss had done was relax her. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and taste him again. More deeply this time. “I have forgotten how to conduct myself in front of others.”

“It’ll come back to you soon enough. We can claim you’re shy. Anyway, Hanley is very old-fashioned and proper. So is his wife. They won’t pry, and they won’t shock or dismay you. In fact, it’ll be dull as ditch-water without you. I’m only going because I want him to sell me some land.”

“How will my presence help with that?”

“It won’t help them, but it’ll make me feel better. You’re my wife—you’re beautiful, clever, and great-hearted, and I want to show you off.”

The heat in his eyes affected her even more deeply than the kiss. A tremor of desire beat through her, and she knew herself to be in great danger of falling for Sir Rowland Cavendish, Baronet.

“Very well. I’ll come. But don’t expect too much of me.”

“Thank you. I’ll leave you to think about dressing.” The smile he gave her as he left the room kindled a flame in her heart.

Perhaps, she had already fallen for him.