Why did he always run off afterword? And why the devil didn’t he kiss her while they made love? She’d thought it odd the first time, but now? Now it seemed to be a pattern.
But then, he had kissed her soundly beforehand.
Perhaps she was making too much of it. After all, how does one kiss a person who has their back to them?
She blushed at the wickedness of their joining and wondered at the pleasure she found in his arms.
If he experienced one fraction of what she felt, he would never let her go.
Lord knew she couldn’t walk away from him.
Not now.
Not ever.
Certainly not of her own choice.
Somehow, some way, she had to win his heart. This marriage of convenience had turned into something much more profound for her. She cared for him. Emeline wanted to build a life with him.
Chapter 10
Candlelight flickered from the center of the table, casting Emeline in a soft glow. Leo studied her as he sipped his wine. She’d taken him by surprise this afternoon—first with her knowledge of his military service and then with her unbridled passion. He could scarcely help but wonder what other surprises she had in store.
His heart tugged when the corner of her mouth pulled down. She turned shadowed eyes on him, and he swallowed hard.
Had he upset her in some way?
Setting his wineglass down, he asked, “Is something troubling you?”
She sighed. “It is only that I do not have much of an appetite this evening.”
Neither did he. Not for food, at any rate. His tempting imp of a wife was another thing, altogether. He was half-starved for her, despite their afternoon tryst.
How beastly of him to think about plundering her at this moment—over the dinner table and while she seemed so out of sorts. Still, he could not help but entertain the thought of laying her down and plunging deep into her heat.
His cock lacked manners, too, for it now tented his breeches.
Leo pressed his eyes closed and drew in a slow breath. This was not the time for sexual deviance. He opened his eyes and met her stare. “Is the food not to your liking? I can have cook send something else up.”
“That isn’t it at all.” She shook her head.
“Are you ill? Shall I send for the doctor?”
She shook her head again. “I’m quite well. Thank you.”
“Then what is it?” he asked, confusion dousing his ardor. “Did you have a large afternoon meal or a late snack?”
Emeline smiled. “Only if you count.” Her cheeks turned rose-colored as she added, “As a snack, that is.”
Wicked images sprang back to life in his mind.
More than anything, he wanted to be inside her, thrusting deep.
He needed to possess her. To make her as wild as she made him.
He gave a teasing wink. “I do believe that qualifies.”
“Good.” She leaned closer across the table. “In that case, I want dessert.”
He quirked a brow. “You surprise me, wife.”
Her cheeks flamed, but she held his gaze. “The more often we join, the faster I will conceive.”
“Very true,” he agreed.
“I want you again. I want you often.” Her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip. “I want you now.”
He’d never heard anything more erotic. Her words rendered him powerless. He could no more deny her than he could stop the sun from setting.
Leo slid his chair back and stood. It one smooth move he was at her side.
She gave a slight squeal of delight as he lifted her into his arms. Her hands snaked around his shoulders, and she nuzzled her face against his neck.
Desire shot through him with such force it stole his breath.
She gave a teasing nip, her teeth pulling at his cravat. “Hurry,” she demanded.
He carried her from the room with long strides, then took the stairs two at a time. The urge to resist and guard himself, all but crumbled in the face of her seduction. All at once, he could imagine a life with her. A real union filled with sexual delight, friendship, and shared burdens.
He pushed back against the thoughts as he laid her on the overstuffed mattress and came down beside her.
Emeline kissed his jaw, his forehead, his lips…
Leo studied her while she worked to remove his cravat, then turned her attention to his jacket and waistcoat.
“I want to love you,” she said as she pulled his shirt free of his breeches.
Love. The word curled around his heart like an iron fist. He well knew where that particular emotion led.
Could he risk it again? Could he relax and trust her? Devil take it, he wanted to.
She brought her lips to his abdomen and licked and suckled his burning flesh as she continued to lift his shirt. “Let me love you,” she said, her breath hot against his skin.
Need coiled so tight within him, he found himself powerless to do anything other than concede to her wishes.
Leo nodded, then pulled his shirt over his head. His pulse raced as she pushed him back on the bed.
She straddled him, then wriggled as she worked to remove her gown.
How did this tiny woman affect him in such a powerful way?
Leo needed to take back some semblance of control. He reached out and grabbed her waist, stilling her. “Let me help.”
Her gaze burned into his as he reached behind her to loosen her fastenings. Buttons. He nearly groaned. There must be hundreds of tiny, well-secured buttons holding the gown shut. Having no patience for them, Leo grabbed both sides of the gown and pulled it apart.
She did not seem to care as she shimmied out of the dress, letting it pool at her waist, then slipping it off completely.
She leaned forward, lowering her breasts toward his face, and he captured one nipple. She moaned and wiggled as he suckled and teased. First one, then the other.
Releasing her breast, he met her warm gaze full of tenderness and heat. “I want to be inside of you.”
“I want that, too,” she said.
He reached for her, intent to flip her on her back.
She swatted at his hands and scooted down his body until her bottom was seated near his knees.
He watched in shock and awe as she reached for his falls.
When his cock sprang free, she did the most unexpected thing.
The little minx kissed the tip of his erection.
She ran her tongue down the length of him, then flicked it across the tip. “You like that. I can see that you do.”
She required no answer. She lowered her head and took him in her mouth.
Fervent need burned through him as he fought against the urge to wrap his fingers in her hair and thrust into her sweet, inviting mouth.
“Stop,” he ordered through clenched teeth.
She glanced up at him, her eyes wide. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. It… You feel too damn good.”
“Then, why stop?” She gave a saucy grin.
“Another moment of that, and I’ll spill my seed. I do not wish to rob you of your pleasure.”
“Oh,” she said, reaching between them to stroke his abdomen. “Tell me what you want.”
His wife was an angel, and he was quickly coming to realize he didn’t deserve her.
Regardless, he had her. She was his wife, today, tomorrow, and always. Perhaps he could make an effort to trust her.
This demonstration of hers proved that she trusted him. Perhaps it would not be so foolish to open his heart after all.
But then, he wasn’t sure he even had a heart left to open—not a functional one worthy of her.
“How do I make love to you? Tell me what to do?”
He groaned with need before finding his tongue to reply. “Straddle me and take your pleasure.”
He saw a moment’s hesitation, then she lowered herself, taking his cock deep inside.
She rocked, slowly at first, then faster as she found her rhy
thm.
She felt so damn good, and he wondered if he would ever get enough.
Leo tangled his fingers in her long, glossy hair and pulled her mouth to his.
He kissed her deeply, soundly, drinking her in.
He’d lost control, and it felt good.
Damn good.
Chapter 11
Body sated, Emeline collapsed atop Leo, resting her head on his chest. Their hearts pounded together as she swirled her fingertips over his dampened skin.
She’d never been so satisfied. So happy.
He stroked his hand over her head. “I lost control.”
Control of what? She wondered at his statement and how, or even if she should reply.
In the end, she settled for, “I’m glad you did.” Because whatever he was on about, she’d enjoyed it and wanted more.
Leo rolled her off of him, then started to get up.
Emeline wrapped her arm around his waist. “Stay.” She found his gaze and stared into his grey eyes. “Hold me, at least until I fall asleep.”
She felt his muscles tighten beneath her touch and saw the look of indecision. Did he find her too repulsive to stay? She didn’t think so, for if he did, she doubted he would bed her with such vigor.
No, there was something else behind his desire to flee. But what?
“You don’t have to cuddle with me, but stay for a while.”
He relaxed against the pillows and drew her into his embrace. “Just until you fall asleep.”
“Thank you,” she said, snuggling against his warm, hard body.
She closed her eyes and attempted to sleep, but her mind would not cease its speculation. His earlier words came back to her. I lost control. Had he referred to the soul-shattering kiss he’d given her while they’d made love?
That would explain so much. Everything, really.
Not kissing her while they joined, the way he always left her the moment they finished, his reserved nature, and desire to spend as little time as possible in her company. It was all in an effort to guard himself.
She eased her head up, searching for his gaze. Her lips parted to speak, but she swallowed back the words.
It had been on the tip of her tongue to ask him outright if he was afraid to love her. However, she did not wish to sound accusatory. Nor did she think pushing him would be to her benefit.
Instead, she caressed his jawline, then cupped his cheek. When he turned his gaze on her, she whispered, “I could love you. If you let me.”
His expression went soft. A flicker of something, hope perhaps, flashed through the depths of his eyes, then he pulled her back to his chest. “Sleep, pet,” he said.
She closed her eyes again and let the steady beat of his heart lull her to sleep. When dawn broke, and she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, he was gone.
They spent the next fortnight in much the same way.
He gave Emeline an hour in the afternoon and joined her until she fell asleep at night. They made love all over the house. Sometimes he took her bent over furniture or pressed against the wall in an alcove. More than once, he had laid her out on the carpet before the fire. And every night, without fail, he brought her to raptures in her bedchamber.
He was tender and encouraged her sensuality.
Emeline found it heady and empowering to share her bed, her body. She reveled in their lovemaking and always craved more. But still, she found herself alone each morning.
As much as she relished being naked in his arms, she craved the time they spent together with their clothes on.
During the past fortnight, they had gone riding, walked through the garden, played cards, and spilikins, and ventured out into London to visit Hyde Park and Gunters.
She found his company enjoyable. He proved to be witty and protective, and his touch never failed to ignite her blood.
Leo seemed to be opening up to her in small measures. A fact that she found encouraging. And while he had yet to share anything about his family or the tragedy that befell them, he opened up about other things.
She felt them growing closer and prayed it was not her imagination for, in truth, she’d fallen irrevocably in love with the man who was as wild as a lion in her bed.
And today, she had a surprise for him.
She turned at the sound of footfalls and laid her hand on her abdomen. Giddiness swelled up in her as Leo strode toward the fountain.
Heavens, if he wasn’t the most handsome man in all of England. All the world, for that matter.
He left her positively breathless.
Leo’s step faltered at the sight of Emeline lighting up for him. She almost glowed in the wash of sunlight. A faint blush covered her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled as she started toward him.
In another heartbeat, she was running toward him, her skirts held high.
He held out his arms in invitation, and she raced into them.
“I have a surprise for you,” she said as she embraced him.
He hugged her close and inhaled her scent. Today she radiated honeysuckle and mint. The smell sweet and soothing, just as she was.
He smiled against her hair and said, “I gathered as much when I found your note. Tell me, minx, what mischief are you about?”
When Leo went to meet her for their afternoon in the parlor, he found a perfumed note instead of his wife. The letter merely read ‘meet me by the fountain.’
Curious as to what she was doing, he wasted no time joining her.
He released her and stepped back to peer over her shoulder at the fountain. Nothing looked out of place.
He scanned the surrounding grounds.
Again, everything looked as it should.
He turned his attention back to her. “Do you intend to keep me in suspense?”
She giggled. “A little suspense is good for you.”
“Minx.”
“You like it.” She threaded her arm through his and urged him to walk. “I would rather show you than tell you.”
He allowed her to guide him toward the massive marble and granite fountain, all the while wondering what he would discover.
Did she intend to push him into the water? He slid his gaze to her.
Judging by the mischievous grin and air of playfulness she wore, he didn’t doubt that she might. “Are we to go for a swim?”
She shook her head. “Of course not.”
“Then, it is only me who is meant to get wet?” He tugged her toward him, then stared into her eyes. “You intend to drown me. Is that it?”
“Only if you plan to provoke me.”
He chuckled. “Is that what I’m doing?”
“You are verging on it.” She released his arm. “Now close your eyes. No peeking,” she ordered.
Leo peered at her, unsure whether he should obey or refuse.
“Go on. Do it.” She nodded. “I promise not to do anything untoward. Trust me.”
There was that word again. Trust. The very thing that had given him so much pain. The people who he’d trusted most in this world had all betrayed him. Now, his sweet wife wanted him to trust her. He studied her, his gaze searching deep within hers.
“Please,” she begged, a bit of the playfulness fading from her eyes.
He exhaled slowly, his throat growing tight. Then he shocked himself by saying, “Very well.”
She took hold of his arms. “Keep them closed, and let me guide you.” She took a small step, pulling him forward.
Leo’s mind protested, his instincts screamed for him to open his eyes, but he kept them firmly shut.
He had nothing to fear.
What could she possibly do to him? Out here with no one and nothing save for the shrubs and fountain.
Relax, he told himself as sweat beaded on his forehead. Even if she beat him with a tulip, he’d survive. A refreshing bath in the fountain would scarcely kill him. All would be fine.
She released her hold on him. “Keep them closed. Remember, you promised.”
He nodded. The sound of her
footsteps crushing the gravel path tickled his ears, then faded.
Where had she gone?
To retrieve a pistol, perhaps.
That was preposterous, and he knew it. Still, what the devil was she up to?
Surely a quick peek would hurt nothing.
She would never know he’d cheated, and doing so would calm his nerves.
He cracked one eye open, then slammed it shut at the sound of her returning.
Damn and blast! He hadn’t seen a thing.
“Do you trust me?” she asked again.
He nodded. “If I did not, I wouldn’t have allowed you to lead me blindly through the garden.” To Leo’s amazement, his words were genuine. He did trust her.
“Excellent. Hold out your hand.”
He held it out, and she took hold of his wrist. Trepidation made the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck stand on end.
Now she went too far. He opened his eyes, and his heart hitched.
“You cheated!” she squealed.
“It was a reflex. I could scarcely help it.” He shook his head. “For all I knew, you were about to cut my hand off.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Ah… I cannot believe…”
“Come here.” He reached for her and drew her close. “I’m sorry.” His gaze roamed to the fishing pole she held. “What are we to do with those?”
“Fish, of course.”
She said it as though it were the most natural thing in the world to go fishing in a garden without a pond or lake in sight.
“What precisely are we aiming to catch?” he asked with genuine curiosity.
“Why birds, of course.” She handed him a pole, her expression serious. “Unless you would rather cast for flowers.”
“Flowers it is.” He tested the weight and length of the pole in his hand. She’d chosen well.
Emeline took a few steps back, then turned away from him. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Surely, she didn’t intend to hook a plant.
Splash.
The sinker broke the surface of the fountain’s water.
Emeline glanced over her shoulder to smile at him. “No flowers in there, I’m afraid.”
“But I suspect there may be something else.” He strode over to the fountain and peered into the water.
A Lyon in her Bed: The Lyon's Den Page 5
