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Chapter Nine
Eventually, Anne stirred. Coupling with Benedict in such a wild, impromptu way had been the best possible outcome of their flirting and subsequently heated kisses. That unexplainable connection between them had practically demanded they’d both end up in bed together—or the hay loft—and yet, the outlet for all that seething tension had indeed cleared out the cobwebs, but that puzzling invisible thread remained.
It was difficult to fathom let alone attempt to explain.
She prodded his shoulder until he eased off her body. Only now was she cognizant of the straw that poked and scratched at her skin. “Well, Worthington, that was quite spectacular.” Anne couldn’t help her grin as she struggled to her feet. Never one to feel ashamed about her nakedness, in the moment, at this time while he watched, she was suddenly self-conscious. Heat infused her cheeks, for his hands and mouth had been all over her form.
And it had been deliciously scandalous. For a man who kept to himself, who enjoyed a quiet life, he certainly knew his way around a woman’s body.
The viscount cast about the straw until he located his spectacles. Once they were securely in place, he sent her a grin that brimmed with a certain satisfaction. “It was rather amazing. And surprising.”
Because her curiosity demanded it, she asked, “I didn’t think you were a rake or a rogue, so where did you learn how to pleasure a woman?”
A flush immediately sprang up his neck and into his face, made all that more obvious for the fact that he was completely nude. And quite a fine specimen too. “I’m well-read. There are numerous books and volumes about sex and even positions, especially, written by Eastern experts. Beyond that, I’ve taken lovers over the years.” His tone rang a tad defensive. “It’s not a crime.”
“No, it’s not. I merely asked, for you seemed an expert and I was quite satisfied at the end.” She raked her gaze down his body, letting her regard skim over his torso with its light sprinkling of dark hair and muscles defined through the flat of his abdomen. He certainly kept himself lean, possibly through riding. Did he enjoy other forms of exercise? Perhaps she’d need to discover that.
“Good. It’s rather bad form to leave a woman’s bed knowing she hadn’t been sent to the pinnacle of bliss.” He grabbed his breeches as he, too, stood. While he donned the clothing and stuffed his now-flaccid member behind his frontfalls, he avoided her gaze.
“I can imagine, and women do appreciate the courtesy.” Why the frown? Was he not pleased to have bedded her? She couldn’t summon the courage to ask. “We shouldn’t linger. No doubt someone close by saw the balloon go down, and Matthew will be along shortly.” It was nice having a man about who not only supported her endeavors—somewhat—but could also kiss like he’d been made for it as Benedict did.
A shiver danced down her spine. To say nothing of his skill at sending her into heights of pleasure that were equal to flying.
“More’s the pity, that.”
“Exactly.” She looked at him with what she hoped was a speaking glance. “I might have enjoyed postcoital bliss a bit longer if circumstances allowed.”
He gave a quick nod. “Who knew that ballooning would end in such a heart-pounding in way?”
“It’s better than crashing.” The obvious needed pointed out.
“Indeed.” The corners of his mouth twitched but he didn’t meet her gaze.
She couldn’t help another smile as she slipped on the stays and did up the laces. Adorable man. “I can’t decide if I like intercourse as much as flying, but it definitely came close.” And she wouldn’t mind doing it again. While she retrieved her breeches, she deliberately made the movements exaggerated, for he covertly watched in the guise of tugging on his boots. Having this man at sixes and sevens around her was most satisfying.
“As refreshing and mind-shattering as this interlude was, neither of us can ignore the fact that you’ve been ruined and even compromised. I took advantage of you, of the situation.”
“Do stop.” She rolled her eyes. “I was a willing participant in my own ruination, and quite frankly, something so wonderful couldn’t possibly be that.” In some annoyance, she yanked on her lawn shirt and tucked the tails into her breeches. He would mar what they’d shared with nonsense.
Buggar it.
“Be that as it may,” he said, nearly toppling over as he donned his second boot. “We really should devise a plan to… I rather think we should marry—”
“Hush.” Anne pressed a hand to his mouth while trying her best not to let the plains of his naked chest distract her. “I am not an obligation, Benedict, and neither am I a mess to be cleaned up. Or a damsel in distress to be turned respectable.” How could she explain this in terms he would understand? She met his eyes. Confusion clouded his hazel depths. “Honestly, too many ton marriages fail due to the man treating his wife as a problem to be solved instead of a mystery to admire and contemplate or even cherish. A woman is merely a person in need of love, not a quick solution to an indiscretion.”
“But we—”
She applied pressure to his lips to halt his mumbling protest. “There was nothing wrong with what we just shared. We both consented to it; it’s naturally what happens between two people who have a mutual carnal attraction for each other.” When he merely blinked at her, she sighed. “Please don’t spoil that.”
“I’m attempting to be a gentleman, Anne.” His words were stilted and heading toward cool as he donned his shirt, tucked it in, and then put his waistcoat over it.
“And I appreciate that, but I’m not a helpless lady without resources.” She slipped her leather vest on and did up the buttons. “I willingly gave you my virginity. That alone should show you how fond I am of you, but if I’m honest with myself and you, I’m not ready for marriage. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”
“Why?” He paused in the act of shoving his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. The bottle green color had an extraordinary effect on his eyes. “You’re the most intelligent woman I’ve ever met. Don’t you desire children, a family, a husband… security?”
“Not at the expense of giving up my freedom or my interests beyond being domesticated.” She plucked a few pieces of straw from her hair. “I’ve worked too long and too hard to let a man steal my identity or dreams.”
“Not all men would demand that.” He struggled with the tight confines of his jacket, but she didn’t offer to help for fear that added proximity to him might cloud her thinking. “I certainly wouldn’t.”
