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To Win his Wayward Wife AZ w cover

Page 12

by Rose Gordon


  “They’re ready for us,” Benjamin said with a grin that sent queer sensations through her body.

  She got up from her chair and together they followed the attendant down the hall. The hall was long and had five giant wooden doors that lined both sides of the hallway. At the very end there was one final door directly at the end of the hall. The attendant opened the door, and Benjamin stood back and ushered her inside. She walked in and looked down at the bath. It looked the same as the one she’d seen before. As if a giant hole had been dug into the floor and decorated with tiles of different colors and shapes then the whole thing filled with steaming hot water. One end had a bit of a slope and even a handrail next to it that made it easier to step in. The only thing different was the size of the tub. It was gigantic. Almost like it wasn’t meant to be used alone.

  She spun around to see Benjamin’s face right behind her. His face was split in two by a grin that rivaled the one he wore on their wedding day. She swallowed. He intended to share her bath with her. She looked around for the attendant.

  “She’s gone,” Benjamin said, causing Madison’s eyes to meet his. “I’ve already dismissed her. If you need help with your gown, I’ll do it.”

  She swallowed again and nodded. “A—all right.”

  “Why don’t you turn around,” he murmured.

  Her palms started feeling clammy and she hastily wiped them on her skirts as she turned around to give him better access to the back of her gown. One by one, she could feel him undoing the row of buttons that went down the back of her gown. When he’d undone the last button, which happened to be positioned just above her waist, he slipped his curved fingertips under the edges of the pale green fabric and ran his hands along the edge up to the shoulder caps, searing her skin through her chemise as he went. Once he reached the sleeves, his hold on the fabric tightened and with gentle ease, he slipped the caps off her shoulders and held onto them as her gown slid down her body.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, making her body tense. He brought his fingers up to trace her shoulder blade. “It was just a compliment, Madison, nothing more.”

  She nodded tersely and closed her eyes. She was nothing but a pretty face to him, and the confirmation stung. “Thank you,” she said quietly and waited for him to remove her chemise like she knew he would.

  Benjamin let his fingers lightly skim her back and the flare of her hips before giving her waist a light squeeze. “Could you lift your foot?” he murmured in her ear before coming to sink to the haunches in front of her.

  Her blood was pumping through her body like she’d never known before and had no idea how her body cooperated with his request, but somehow she found herself raising her foot a few inches off the floor. Benjamin’s hand took hold of her ankle, and he pushed her slipper off. His other hand came to settle on her other ankle and without being prompted, she lifted her foot and allowed him to slip off her other slipper.

  His hands stayed on her ankles for a moment before he slid them up her calves, past her knees and to the top of her stockings, leaving a hot trail in their wake. She could feel his stare piercing her as he turned his head to look up at her while his thumbs tenderly caressed the skin above the top of her stockings.

  He took his right hand from her left leg and used it to bend her right knee and bring her foot to rest on his thigh. She watched in stunned silence as he lowered his head and placed a searing kiss on the inside of her right thigh before using both hands to unroll her stocking.

  His movements were slow as he peeled off her stocking. He used his thumbs and forefingers to pull her stockings down and trailed his other fingers along the skin that was newly exposed. His big hand lifted the foot that was still resting on his thigh and gave it a squeeze before lowering it to the cold tile. With the same slow and patient movements, he silently removed her other stocking before standing up to face her.

  “Why don’t you get in,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

  “Am I allowed to wear my chemise?” she asked, uncertain.

  “I’d recommend that you do,” he said raggedly, turning away.

  She nodded her understanding, though she didn’t understand at all. Last time she’d come, she hadn’t worn anything in the water. Nobody told her it was recommended she keep her chemise on.

  The water was just as warm as she remembered. She took a seat toward the middle of the slope. Her position was perfect in her opinion. She was far enough in the water she could lie down completely and be submerged in water up to the top of her chest and her face stayed above water with only her hair getting a little damp.

  She heard the water next to her splash when Benjamin’s feet stepped in. She turned her head to look at him and grinned when she saw he was once again wearing his too tight drawers. “You wore your drawers,” she said laughingly. “I thought they were uncomfortable.”

  “They are,” he grumbled. “But women wear tight corsets in an effort to impress men, and I’m wearing these to please you.”

  She laughed. “You’re absurd. Just take them off. Nobody’s here to see but me.”

  “Exactly, and you’re the one I don’t want to see,” he teased, lying down next to her.

  “Oh, please. I assure you, the mystery you contain in there does not hold my interest the way you think it ought,” she said bluntly.

  “You speak as if you have vast knowledge of men’s body parts,” he mused aloud, reaching over and taking her hand into his.

  “I’ve seen one before,” she blurted out as he interlaced their fingers.

  He scoffed. “Yes, but that was a little boy’s. There’s a difference.”

  “Fine, suit yourself,” she said with a shrug. “But if you have a permanent red line that circles your waist because you’re too stubborn about being mysterious and all that nonsense, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

  “’Tis a brand I’ll wear with honor if it wins your heart,” he said cryptically.

  She shook her head. Men. They were such complex creatures it was really a wonder the human race had survived this long. “You’re cracked.”

  “I know.”

  “How long do we have in the bath?” she asked after a minute of silence.

  “As long as we want, Duchess,” he said with a grin. He broke their hand hold and started to get up. “Care to join me on the other end?”

  She bought her head up to look down to the end of the bath. “It looks rather deep.”

  “It is,” he confirmed, reaching his hand down to help her up. “Probably too deep for me to touch and still have my neck above water.”

  “But you’re tall,” she reasoned. Surely it wouldn’t be that deep, would it?

  “Most aren’t as tall as I am, and some rent this specific room to do some light swimming.”

  “Oh,” she said, gaining her feet and walking further into the bath with him. “You plan to teach me breaststroke now, don’t you.”

  “If you want, I can. But I thought we’d just relax against the side or something of that nature,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

  They walked along in the water until they got to a part where Madison could no longer touch with her whole foot and stopped walking. “I need to stop,” she said softly. She might be able to do the backstroke in waist deep water with someone watching, but she didn’t like the idea of standing on her tiptoes just to be able to barely keep her chin above water.

  “Come a little further,” he urged. “I’m not going to let you drown.”

  She looked at him keenly. She knew he wouldn’t let her drown, but still the idea that for three seconds she could be frolicking like a scared fish before he could bring her to safety didn’t thrill her.

  “Come on,” he urged again. “I’ll support you, I promise. I’ll never be more than an inch away.”

  “All right,” she agreed, inching closer to him and his protective hold.

  A few steps later she wasn’t even able to
walk on her toes any longer and he used his arm to lift her and bring her squarely in front of him. He wrapped his other arm around her and walked her over to the closest wall. “This’ll do,” he said, favoring her with a grin.

  She looked down at the end of the tub. “But we’re not at the end. There’s still a good two feet before we reach the end.”

  “I know,” he said, moving his hands to hold her waist. “I don’t think I’d be able to support us at the end. Not unless I lean on the wall, too.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t float,” he said simply.

  “I thought you said almost everyone floats,” she countered. Her feet were a good six or eight inches off the floor and she was being suspended in the water only by his hands on her waist and her back lightly pressing against the wall.

  “I did,” he agreed. “But I’m not one of them. Well, actually, that’s incorrect. I don’t exactly sink, either.”

  “How do you not float and not sink?” she asked dubiously. It was simple really, you either floated or sunk. Which was it?

  He moved his body closer to hers and brought his thigh up in between her legs, resting his foot against the wall behind her. “To help support you,” he murmured when she gave him a startled look after she saw the new position of his leg. “About the sinking and floating business. Well, I don’t float at the top and I don’t sink to the bottom. It’s strange really. My body cannot stay on top of the water, but it can’t stay on the bottom, either. I seem to find myself sucked into the middle and struggle to come to the surface or stay on the bottom.”

  “Why would you want to go to the bottom?” she asked doubtfully. And why would anyone want to stay at the bottom of a body of water?

  He shrugged. “To look for things. As a boy, I didn’t have anyone to play with for a few years and when I’d go swimming, I’d throw something in and dive to retrieve it. It’s a great single-person game.”

  “Oh, that makes sense,” she conceded. “I wonder why you can’t float or sink. Is that common?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve only met one other person that has the same difficulty. But I don’t know what causes it. Something about the density of the body being more than the water, therefore, you sink. Or perhaps it’s the other way around. All I know is my body—”

  She cut him off with a quick kiss on the lips. “Sorry, you were starting to remind me of my overly scientific cousin Alex and I just couldn’t bear you ruining this moment that way.”

  He looked to be in shock. “I’d say I’ll be sure to keep my scientific talk to myself in the future, but if my punishment for talking about science is a kiss, I believe I may take up an interest in biology, astronomy, chemistry, physics, horticulture and perhaps botany as well,” he told her with a grin.

  “That may not be the punishment next time,” she retorted, resting her hands on his broad shoulders. He was actually a rather big man. Not enormous and fearfully intimidating, by any means, but not small and powerless, either. The muscles in his shoulders, chest and arms were so pronounced they were visible through his clothes. She’d barely taken note of that fact before they’d married. Before her wedding day he’d just been another man, nothing more. But in the past few days she’d taken notice on how his body filled out his clothing. Yesterday when she’d seen him in the water and lying on the grass, she’d noticed of just how big he was but hadn’t given it much thought. However, now that he was holding her so closely, she couldn’t notice anything but his masculinity.

  His chest was just mere inches from hers and she had the strangest urge to reach her fingers into the middle of his small smattering of short reddish brown chest hair and feel his heartbeat under her fingers. Many doubted he had a heart, but she knew he did. And just now it seemed to be beating in time with hers.

  “You know you still owe me a kiss,” he murmured in her ear.

  “I know,” she said.

  “Good,” he said. “As long as you didn’t think you’d just gotten out of it just now.”

  “You mean that paltry peck didn’t count as my Waffle Law kiss?” she teased, bringing her cheek to rest against his slightly hair roughened jaw.

  He shook his head and moved his hands from her waist and brought them up to caress her lower back. “No, it doesn’t count,” he rasped, his voice barely audible.

  Heat she didn’t recognize pooled in her midsection as his hands continued their gentle and thorough exploration, climbing up her back. She may have been up to her shoulders in hot water, but she could feel every heated touch of his hands as if it were a brand. She closed her eyes and leaned against his powerful chest for the support she suddenly seemed to require.

  Her body sank an inch or two more into the water and she rested on the muscled thigh he’d positioned in between her legs. His bristled jaw tickled a path across her cheek just before his lips landed on hers for tender kiss. His soft lips pressed hers with a gentle pressure that made her sigh with pleasure. His strong hands stopped roaming her back and came to rest on her shoulders, using their strength to pull her closer to him and hold her there.

  His lips moved slightly lower to focus attention on her bottom lip, gently pulling it between his lips. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and shamelessly she pressed her entire body closer to his. She could feel his strong chest against her swollen breasts and the hard planes of his stomach against her softer one. Below that, her knee brushed the hardness of his desire for her and she abruptly pulled her face back.

  Embarrassment and shame washed over her. She’d just acted like a wanton by pressing her body against a man she hardly knew and was acting like a tart.

  “Don’t pull away,” he panted as she scooted away from his body and toward the wall.

  She couldn’t make herself look at him as she tried to scramble out of his embrace.

  “Madison,” he said softly, moving closer to her as she backed up completely against the wall. “There’s nothing wrong with kissing me.”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I know,” she whispered. But even whispering it didn’t keep her voice from cracking.

  He repositioned himself to stand in front of her with one of his legs on either side of her and his body helping to keep her pressed against the side of the bath. Bringing his hands up to frame her face and tilt it toward his, he said, “There’s no shame in enjoying it, you know?”

  She swallowed. Had she been so obvious? Of course she had. She’d just pressed herself to him like a tavern wench looking for side work.

  “I enjoyed it,” he said with a smile. “Why shouldn’t you be able to?”

  She lowered her lashes and mumbled, “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do. You just don’t want to tell me,” he countered softly. He leaned forward and brushed a sweet kiss on her forehead. “You don’t have to tell me today. You can tell me whenever you’re ready. I’ll be ready to listen.”

  “Thank you,” she choked, bringing her fingers up to idly skate along the tops of his shoulders and down his clavicle.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist, kicked off the wall to the middle of the bath and lifted her partially from the water before spinning her in a full circle that caused a large wave of water spray around the room. With a smile, he rested his forehead on hers and whispered, “I’ll always be there for you, Madison. Always.”

  Chapter 13

  Madison felt like a fugitive as she and Benjamin snuck back into Rockhurst after another meal of waffles (which she ate) and hot chocolate. It was nearly ten before their carriage entered the drive and dropped them off. Not that their hosts would have locked them out for being out so late. No, that would have been a preferable fate than what Madison assumed they’d have in store for them when they arrived: an interrogation.

  Thinking it best to just sneak to her room and evade Brooke’s questions in the morning, they took hallways that led them away from the rest of the house in order to get to her room. She’d told Benjamin to just go to t
he gamekeeper’s cottage and she’d worry about avoiding her sister by herself. Of course he pulled the gentleman card (as if he’d ever been one before) and insisted he’d see her to her room.

  They were just about to her door when Stevens suddenly appeared from nowhere. “I was told to have you report to the drawing room immediately, Your Grace,” Stevens said with a bow.

  Madison turned to Benjamin and shot him an apologetic glance. She had no idea why they’d want to see him, but at least it wasn’t her they were summoning and for that, she was eternally thankful.

  Benjamin grumbled something she couldn’t understand before turning to face the butler. “Tell them I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Very well,” Stevens said. “And you, Your Grace?” he asked with a pointed look at Madison.

  “Pardon?” she asked in confusion.

  “Will you also be down shortly?”

  She shifted her eyes to her snickering husband. “Oh, good grief. They did not tell you to call me that, did they?”

  Stevens coughed to cover up his own snicker. That wasn’t an unusual habit for him. Before he became a butler he was actually a footman. When Andrew hit rock bottom a few years and had to pension off the majority of his servants, he moved Stevens to be his butlering footman here at Rockhurst. He had another, Addams, in London. Addams was always more professional about his butlering duties—actually he was quite snotty if one were interested in the truth. But Stevens, well, he had a lot to learn of professionalism. “I do believe it was Mrs. Grimes who directed me to call you that,” he said with a smirk.

  Madison fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course Liberty did that. Until she married Paul—wait, that wasn’t true, even for a while after she’d married Paul—she had a penchant for the rules of propriety to such a point that her husband still teased her from time to time calling her Live-by-the-rules Liberty. Madison warned Liberty the whole month of her engagement not to “Your Grace” her or she’d find a way to torture her. So far Liberty had followed the rules, but apparently she’d found a loophole. “Which one of us do they require for this blessed family event?” Madison asked with a hint of sarcasm.

 

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