Legendary Lover (10 page)

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Her knowing smile moved beneath his touch, and raising her hand, she grasped his finger and gently nibbled on it. "Then we'll have to see that you get what you want."

"Everything?"
His eyes measured her response.

"Anything at all," she softly breathed. "You're not the only one who feels intemperate."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere."

He slowly smiled and ran his hands down her arms as if vetting the corporeal feel of her. "Are you sure this isn't a dream?"

"I don't care if it is, so long as it doesn't end." She glanced down at his arousal. "Maybe we could begin the next installment of this dream right now."

"What do you have in mind?" His eyes held a hint of teasing.

She pulled away the red-embroidered quilt and slid her middle finger down her silky cleft. "Putting something I like here . . ."

"Let me." He lifted her hand aside, replacing her finger with his, stroking up and down in a lazy, slow rhythm.

The air suddenly seemed palpable on her skin, her tactile senses charged, and she braced her hands on the bed and gave in to sensation.

But he'd waited too long for her to wake and in short moments he lifted her up, swung her over his lap, and guided her down his erection. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he rose from the bed and began walking from the room.

"
Ummmm
," she remonstrated when she realized what he was doing. "I like the bed." But her protest died

94

away in a suffocated moan because he'd stopped at the door and, leaning against her, pressed her back against the solid oak and thrust into her hard, hard until she ached with longing—until she came.

When he carried her outside, she clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder, the dissolute heat of passion a fever in her body. "The neighbors . . ." she murmured, not sure she cared to be a performer onstage.

"There aren't any neighbors. I own five miles of river. You can open your eyes." Turning his head, he bent to lick the lobe of her ear. "Look."

She didn't at first, not so much from shyness as from lack of concentration. With each step, his erection thrust upward with such force she was immune to everything but the driving invasion, every sense dominated, enthralled, focused on the delirious sensation. And on the long walk down to the water, she climaxed twice.

When he came to a stop, she was given momentary respite and, feeling the cool breeze from the river, she turned her head on his shoulder and opened her eyes. Willows bordered a secluded inlet, the riverbank brilliant with pink
astilbe
, the grass so green if there was ever a facsimile of paradise, this watery bower would be in the first rank.

"The grass might be cool," he warned, dropping to his knees, leaning forward, following her down.

"I'm hot." Impaled, in the grip of ungovernable cravings, her mind was consumed with desire, her body in thrall to this man who serviced her with such skill. The arctic itself wouldn't have felt chill at the moment.

"Then we're good," he whispered, moving inside her with such delicacy she felt tears come to her eyes.

95

There should be a word to describe the indescribable, she thought. Good wasn't enough, but her mind wasn't thinking very precisely, absorbed as it was in experiencing passion and lust and hot-blooded wanting.

Jack entertained her that afternoon and evening with blissful regard for the rarest of sensation. They made love on the grass and in the water, under the sun and later in the light of the rising moon, with languor and ferocity, with the
most tender
kisses. She'd never been kissed with such warmhearted joy, nor had he ever kissed a woman with such benevolence.

Later that night when they returned to the cottage across the dew-wet grass, they stood in the doorway, wrapped in an embrace, gazing at the moon, reluctant to put an end to their enchanting idyll.

Chapter 7
        
esee
           

vr3£ l/E MADE BREAKFAST FOR HER IN THE MORN-

ing
. The compact larder was well stocked, and fresh eggs, milk, two crusty loaves of bread, and fresh churned butter had been left in the small root cellar near the back door. When she asked how anyone knew he was there, he told her he had caretakers who checked each morning.

"You come here that often?"

"Sometimes several times a week."

"For the fishing."

"Mostly."

She'd already noticed two well-filled bookcases in the parlor, watercolor paints and paper scattered on a table, a small spinet near the fireplace. He was a man of surprises.

He cooked on a nickel-plated wood stove, while she drank hot chocolate he'd made for her with the cream from the top of the milk. She wore his robe, the quilted red linen trailing on the floor when she walked, the sleeves rolled up several times, the belt wrapped twice around her waist.

He'd slipped on a pair of twill trousers, well worn and faded to a fawn color, and after a night of sustained and impassioned sex, she wondered that he could arouse her

97

still
with no more than a glance at his lean, bronzed body.

"I wish you'd put more clothes on."

"I'm too hot." He glanced over at her, his dark tousled hair falling over one eye. He brushed it aside with the back of his hand, his fingertips wet from the eggs he was cracking into a bowl. "And I mean it in every possible way. It's your fault completely I'm still in full rut after fucking you all night."

"What if I get pregnant?"

The egg he was cracking smashed against the bowl with unforeseen violence, oozing down the side and onto the tabletop.

"Sorry," she murmured.

"My fault," he said, wiping his hands on a damp towel and cleaning up the mess, his expression star-
tlingly
blank when he turned around. "If that should happen, let me know."

"My apologies for even bringing it up, but I'm normally overly cautious on that account." She smiled. "I'm reasonably logical again in the light of day, although watching you in half-undress is highly stimulating."

"Eat first." He turned back to the stove. "I'll walk into the nearby town later and get some condoms."

"I'll come with you."

"If you don't mind the distance.
We probably should have kept the carriage."

"When is your driver returning?"

"I told him to check in two days."

She grinned.
"So confident, my lord.
Am I your prisoner, then?"

"I think I'm yours."

9«

"How sweet."

"I'm not so sure about being sweet, but I'm damned infatuated. Now make yourself useful and cut us some slices of bread."

In short order, they carried their breakfast to a small flagstone terrace facing the river, where a weathered teak table and chairs were positioned for a view of the water. They ate under the spring sun, talking idly of the few acquaintances they had in common, of their plans for the day, their walk into town, fishing,
swimming
. It seemed as though they'd known each other for a very long time, a sense of ease and tranquility both comforting and in stark contrast to their heated night.

Later, while they enjoyed their coffee and chocolate, Jack said, "I've been thinking that I really should buy some hospital supplies for my tenants. You could advise me on how to set up an infirmary at
Castlereagh
, and I could duplicate it at my other properties."

"Don't feel obligated."

"Not at all.
I just never considered setting up a hospital on my estates."

"I'd be happy to help, of course."

"Good." He could keep her for a time, he thought, personal motive auxiliary to his duties as a landlord. "When we go back to the city then, I'll take advantage of your expertise."

"What expertise?"

The male voice heard at close range was all too familiar, and Jack braced himself for their visitor. A second later, Ned Darlington strolled around the corner of the cottage still attired in evening dress, his sartorial disarray bespeaking a night of carouse.

"I hope you're alone," Jack brusquely said.

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"Of course.
Would I trespass on your secret hermitage with a stranger? Although it looks as though you've relaxed your stringent rule concerning women." Ned glanced at Venus with a broad smile, his bow mildly unsteady. "And yes, thank you very much, I'd love something to eat," he drawled, pulling up a bench and joining them. "You must be Venus."

"Darling, this is my oldest and rudest friend," Jack declared, his reluctance obvious. "Ned, may I present Miss
Duras
—whom I trust you'll not remember having met when next we see you."

"My lips are sealed." He mimicked locking his mouth and tossing away the key.

"See that you recall your promise once you're sober again," the marquis warned.

"Won't be sober 'til tomorrow at least.
It's Lily's coming-out party tonight, and I'll need a bottle or two to get through that boring affair. Need you there, too. Reason I came all the way out here to find you. You promised Lily." He reached for Jack's coffee.

"Is that tonight?"

"Damn right." Lifting the cup to his mouth, Ned drained it.

Jack exhaled in frustration. "You're sure?"

"Sure as judgment day.
Maman
sent a footman to remind me yesterday. Wrote the date large on her note-paper and gave my valet orders to see that I'm there dressed and ready. It's tonight.
Word of God."

"
Merde
."

"My feelings exactly, but Lily is all atwitter, so have to do our duty, my friend. Like a fool, you agreed to lead her out in her first dance."

IOO

"What time?" The marquis was already gauging the hours remaining for them at the river.

"Dinner at eight, I suppose. Mostly family, but
Maman
will be expecting you."

Jack offered Venus a quizzical look. "Would you like to be my guest at Ned's sister's coming-out? I can't avoid it."

"I don't think so," Venus demurred, not inclined to accompany Jack to a family occasion. "I'm sure the guest list is complete."

The marquis glanced at his friend. "Your
maman
surely has room for one more."

Ned looked up from buttering his bread. "I'll tell her."

"There. It's settled."

"I'm not sure," Venus dissented. "Really, I'd prefer you drop me off at home."

"Tell your
maman
not to expect us before eight," Jack informed Ned. He looked at Venus with narrowed eyes. "You're going, or I won't."

"Lily will cry her eyes out if you don't appear," Ned said, smiling at Venus.

"Don't make the poor girl cry," Jack gently prodded.

Venus pursed her mouth and shot him a heated glance. "Must you always have your own way?"

"He always does," Ned bluntly observed through a mouthful of bread and butter.

"Why don't we talk about this later," Venus quietly declared, her gaze squarely meeting Jack's.

"I'm not staying for the fight." Ned quickly came to his feet.
"Hate women screaming, no offense.
I'll see you tonight, Jack. It was a pleasure, Miss
Duras
." Grabbing the bowl with the remaining scrambled eggs, two slices of bread, and a fork, he made his escape.

IOI

"I don't want to argue about this," Venus asserted the minute Ned disappeared.

"Nor do
I
."

"The young girl is waiting for you to squire her tonight. I'd be very much in the way."

"Nonsense.
Lily is my friend's baby sister. She looks on me as an uncle."

"I rather doubt that, when she's reserved her first dance for you."

"You're wrong. She's a tomboy who races horses and mucks out the stables. More often than not she has her hair in braids. So go with me and save me from
a
evening of boredom. We'll come back here afterward."

Venus traced a pattern on the weathered tabletop. "The
afterward
is tempting."

"Then come." He leaned across the table to touch her hand, enchanting appeal in his gaze. "You like to dance. How bad can it be? I promise we won't stay long."

"How long?"

"Dinner, Lily's first dance.
Two or three others after that and we'll decamp."

"Lord, Jack, I don't know ... I don't want to."

"I'll make it worth your while." A husky note underscored his words.

She smiled. "That's not fair."

"I'll buy out the supply of condoms in London."

"You know how to tempt a lady . . ." she whispered.

"We'll have to leave here by five. I'll dress at your house, or you can have your things brought to mine."

"Do I have a choice?"

He smiled at her.
"None at all."