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They urged their mounts into a gallop and rode off in unison, hooves pounding across the field, leaving all talk of love behind in the dust.

CHAPTER 16

“Ican feed myself, you know,” Ophelia pointed out, watching as Apollo brought the fork of divine chocolate cake to her lips for another bite.

He was wearing nothing but a banyan, his feet bare, his dark hair tousled from her own fingers tunneling through the thick locks when he had made love to her. Two times already, and she did not doubt there would be more yet. When they had first arrived at the gamekeepers’ cottage where he had arranged for them to spend the afternoon and evening alone together, she had been too hungry for him to pay attention to the picnic luncheon he had requested for their enjoyment.

She had been desperate to get him naked. To kiss him, to touch him. To feel him inside her.

She was every bit as desperate now, if she were honest. But their overzealous coupling—on the floor and halfway up the stairs—had worked her other appetite into a frenzy. Between them both, they had consumed every last hunk of cheese, chicken, and bread to be had, washed down with wine before Apollo had produced the decadent dessert for their delectation.

Presently, she was seated on his lap sideways, her feet dangling above the boards of the floor, nothing but the thin layers of her chemise and his banyan keeping their modesty intact.

“I am more than aware that you are capable of feeding yourself,” he said. “But taking care of you pleases me.”

She took the bite of cake and chewed, trying to tamp down unwanted emotions. How easily she could become accustomed to the tenderness he showed her, to the worshipful way he pleasured her and looked after her.

One more day, came the unwanted reminder.

The last few precious days had passed in a haze of desire. She’d been so lost in Apollo that it was almost impossible to believe the house party was nearly at an end. Soon, she would be back in London as if she had never sat in Apollo’s lap nearly naked as he hand-fed her petits gâteaux au chocolat.

“I will miss being spoiled when I am back in London,” she told him after she had swallowed the delicious bite of cake.

Thinking of London and her return was bittersweet. She greatly missed Catherine and Reggie. She also missed their dogs. But she would also miss the closeness she shared with Apollo. She would miss how freely they could see and touch each other. The way his door was not far from hers and he seemed to find her wherever she was.

He frowned. “Does no one spoil you, Phee?”

“Who would there be to do so? It is only the children, me, and a few loyal servants about. The children are good to me, and I am fortunate to have them. But neither Catherine nor Reggie has ever offered to feed me cake.”

The last, she said with a teasing smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

He forked up another bite of cake, offering it to her. “I reckon the children would be more inclined to eat their dessert than share it.”

She accepted the bite, chewing and swallowing before responding. “If Cook makes a dessert, I’m lucky if I even have so much as a taste. You wouldn’t believe the affinity for sweets two young children can have.”

They were forever asking Cook for tarts and cakes. To her credit, Mrs. Horton was excellent at stretching ingredients and making the most of what they could afford, which was a far cry from the days before Corbett’s gambling had become so excessive. The funds she earned from this house party would go a long way toward restoring the depleted household budget, and Ophelia was glad of it. Moreover, it would be monies that would be her own.

Apollo chuckled. “I do believe I have a notion. I was myself a young lad once.”

“Not long ago,” she couldn’t help but to point out, thinking again of the difference in age between them.

The nearer they came to the end of the house party, the larger the gap between them began to feel. Or perhaps reminding herself of the years separating them was her heart’s way of preparing her for the inevitability that they soon would part.

Apollo gave her a pointed look. “I haven’t been a lad in twenty years, Phee. I’m very much a man.”

He didn’t need to tell her. She knew. Oh, how she knew.

Heat was already creeping up her throat, and her nipples tightened into hard, rude little points that tented the fabric of her chemise. “I’m aware that you are a man.”

“Good.” He grinned, and his dimples reappeared. “I’m happy to show you, if you prefer it.”

Beneath her, his cock stirred, thickening.

“How will you show me, I wonder?” she mused, feeling wicked and slightly drunk on wine and him.

Yes, Apollo himself was intoxicating enough.

“Wait until I finish feeding you this dessert, and then you’ll know,” he returned, his voice low and seductive, his so very blue eyes dipping to her mouth first, then to her breasts.