by Dawn Ireland
Declan crossed the room to peer into the cradle. Some day he might stop looking at their child with awe, but she hoped it wasn’t any time soon.
She joined him there, locked her hand in his, and gazed down at their son. His curly auburn hair stuck in damp tendrils to his forehead. Dominic Devereaux, the Earl of Lochsdale and future Earl of Worthington, lay fast asleep, one of the few times his blue eyes weren’t open and studying the world around him. She reached in the cradle and brought the blanket up to her son’s dimpled chin.
It scared her to think how close she’d come to losing this life with Declan. Thank God her cousin and his minion could never hurt them again. Lord Bradford had caught Luther’s accomplice trying to escape from the pier. She hadn’t gone to Spider’s hanging. It was enough to know her father’s and grandfather’s deaths had been avenged.
She led Declan away from their son and through the entrance to the adjoining bedroom. After she shut the door, she turned to face him.
“You promised you’d fence with me today.”
“Did I?” Declan’s blue eyes shone with mischief. He walked over to the bed and put Guardian on the counterpane, stroking the cat’s fur with long, luxurious movements. He straightened and gave her an appraising look that sent shivers up her spine. “What do I get if I win?”
“Why, I’ll do as you ask, within reason, of course.”
At his crestfallen expression, she laughed and skirted his arms as he reached for her. She went to the wardrobe and removed her breeches and shirt. The enclosed garden would be lovely this time of day. Besides, Declan knew they’d end up here afterwards. They always did.
“What if I don’t wish to be reasonable?” Declan’s voice became intimate, a warm, low resonance that seemed to permeate her being. “Shall I describe some of the things I’d like to do to you?”
She felt heat rush through her body. The man was distracting her. “Win first.”
“Is that a challenge?”
Declan approached and proceeded to act as her lady’s maid, sliding the clothing from her body with slow, sensuous movements. She stood still, relishing the feel of the cloth against her skin. At last, she stood naked. Declan moved behind her, then reached around and ran slightly roughened hands down the front of her, starting with her breasts. “Before and after,” he breathed into her ear.
With a smile, she gave into temptation and leaned back against him. She knew when she’d met her match.
