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Will you let me come to you?
Something had changed. She had looked so unsure, yet hopeful. It tugged at a place deep inside him, one even his memory refused to unearth. When he finally found the will to move, the sharp pain that had surfaced at the casino bit into his knee once again. He was paying the price for neglecting his exercises during this trip. Henry looked toward his private bathroom. It boasted an enormous pink marble tub he had yet to step foot in, as the shower bath was far more efficient. And Henry wasn’t the sort to laze about in a tub when there was work to do. Now, though…
He glanced toward the bedroom door. Georgiana had been trussed up even more than usual this evening. She looked breathtaking, but it would be a good half hour before she would appear. Perhaps even longer. Henry turned on the golden taps, and they hissed to life as piping-hot water rushed out of the spout. An obscene luxury, one he might not be able to enjoy again. As the tub slowly filled, Henry stripped off his clothes and then eased himself into the warm water. He let out a low groan of relief. Lord, how would he ever go back to his tiny flat after this? Just a few minutes and he would get out. He leaned his head back against the rim of the tub and closed his eyes.
Henry should have known he would run across the commodore in Monte Carlo. The man had a terrible gambling habit. But it was his greeting that had set Henry particularly on edge.
I’ve been looking for you, Captain. Your country needs you.
That hadn’t been their agreement. Henry had promised to dutifully play the part of the hero. Let the Crown use him to wave the flag and distract the populous from its questionable overseas activities. But in exchange he would be free.
Free from all future missions. Free to live his life, whatever he chose to make of it.
It will be well worth your while.
Henry already had a sizable pile of chips in front of him. He had been ready to leave. But that irritated the hell out of him, and he played one more round just to spite the commodore. To show that he didn’t need his money. Henry was doing just fine on his own. And he won yet again. But as he rose from the table, his old superior—the man who had been ready to let him rot away in that jail cell until he became a political asset—made another attempt:
If money won’t tempt you, perhaps information on your viscountess will.
Henry hid his surprise behind a glare, then left without a word. But this wasn’t over.
The commodore had known exactly which nerve to strike, and he wasn’t the sort of man who gave up. Ever. There still had been no word from the London detective, but it seemed possible that Georgiana had ruffled feathers that went far beyond a disgruntled factory owner. If the commodore was involved, this could be political. He should have suspected as much, given how many men in Parliament owned or invested in similar enterprises. Georgiana’s reforms were a direct threat.
He let out a sigh and sank deeper into the tub, trying to put it out of his mind for now. Rafe offered to make some inquiries with the connections he still had tomorrow, including his brother, who enjoyed a prominent government position. But one thing Henry could not forget was the distinct quickening of his heartbeat when the commodore had saidyour viscountess. How right that had sounded. How he ached for it to be true. But Georgiana wanted to belong to no one but herself, and he must respect that.
At the feel of a soft hand caressing his shoulder, Henry’s eyes shot open. He had drifted off. The bath was still comfortably warm, so it hadn’t been too long.
Georgiana smiled down at him as she perched on the rim of the tub, a dream come to life. “You look quite comfortable.”
Henry stretched his arms out along the rim and noted the way her eyes slid over his wet skin. “I am.” Then he flexed his knee. Much better. “I don’t suppose you’d care to join me?” He gestured to the expansive tub. “There is plenty of room.”
Georgiana’s mouth curved. “Yes, I can see that.” She pushed up the sleeve of her wrapper and skimmed the water’s surface. Henry could spend a lifetime simply watching the smooth, graceful movements of her hands. She then flicked the water off her fingers and turned on the tap, adding a little more hot water. “You don’t mind? I like it just short of boiling.”
Henry smiled and shook his head. There were a great many things he would endure to get her into this tub. She then rose and walked over to the long marble vanity, which held various bottles and perfumed soaps. Henry hadn’t bothered with any of them—a bar of Pear’s suited him just fine—but Georgiana opened one and sniffed. She appeared pleased and turned back, loosening the tie of her wrapper as she approached, revealing a glimpse of the pale golden skin between her breasts.
Henry swallowed hard and fought the urge to look away, reminding himself that he had already seen her quite naked.
“You’re blushing.”
He met her gaze. “It’s warm in here.”
She smirked again and turned off the tap, then tipped the open bottle over the water. Thick, golden oil poured out, filling the humid air with a sharp citrus scent. Georgiana dipped a hand in and swirled the water as the scent grew stronger. Henry shifted in place. His cock had grown uncomfortably hard in a very short amount of time. Her wrapper crumpled around her ankles, and she stepped into the tub. Before Henry could even blink, his hands were on her waist and he was dragging her down to him. Georgiana let out a surprised yelp, then laughed as water splashed around them. Her bare chest pressed against his own, all slippery and glistening. Why the hell hadn’t they done this sooner?
But before he could voice the thought, her lips pressed to his, as urgent and wanting as ever. Henry kissed her back with equal force, as if their interlude in the carriage hadn’t happened earlier that very day. It wasn’t enough to satisfy his need, hisgreedfor her. He was a desperate, hungry man who had been admitted to a lavish banquet. And he would savor every last bite. She took his bottom lip between her teeth with a gentle nibble. There was something wild, almost feral about her during these moments. Or maybe it was simply so different from the way she carried herself in public. Henry loved that he knew this about her. This delicious secret. And not for the first time he wondered if she had shared this side of herself with the viscount. This man she seemed to still yearn for when no one was watching. He kissed her harder, fighting to rid himself of the unsettling thought. Either way, it didn’t matter. The viscount was dead, while Henry was very much alive. He gripped the soft, smooth skin of her bottom and shifted his hips. Then he dragged her along his shaft as slowly as he could stand it. Georgiana let out a gasp and dug her fingertips into his shoulders. He repeated the movement, dragging her up and down his length in slow, sure strokes while the warm, scented bathwater swirled around them. Georgiana tilted her head back and closed her eyes as she let out a low moan. Henry’s control slipped and his hands tightened around her waist, pinning her entrance at the very tip of his cock.
“Open your eyes,” he said roughly.
As Georgiana obeyed, something else sparked in his chest. There was an openness in her gaze that hadn’t been there before. It felt as if she could see right through him. Right through to his very soul—whatever ragged bit was left. Her hand slipped down from his shoulder and came to rest on his chest. Could she feel how his heart pounded? Did she know it was all for her? She shifted her hips again, and he slowly pressed inside her. She took him more easily now, as if their flesh had been made with the other in mind.
No, Henry decided between his increasingly unsteady thrusts. It had not been like this with the viscount. Because it could only be like this between the two of them.
Now, thanks to several twists of fate, they had been given a second chance. And this time he would not let her slip away.
“Henry,”she suddenly cried out as her intimate flesh clenched hard around his length.
The sound of his name falling from her lips in the throes of pleasure pierced his chest, and joy, hot and thick, seemed to rush through his every limb. He soon followed her over the cliff.
She sagged against him, and his arms immediately circled her. They lay just like that for some time, the bathwater lapping at their joined bodies until it grew tepid. Then Georgiana climbed out of the tub on shaky legs, nearly toppling over at one point with a heady laugh before she helped him out.
