Chapter 9
Nine
Kendra
OUT OF brEATH after dashing to their chamber, Kendra and Trick barely took time to shut the door before locking their lips together.
In no time at all, Kendra went from out of breath to downright woozy. Her head spun. Her heart raced. Her husband’s arms were around her, and he smelled like—
“What on earth is that smell?” she gasped, pulling away.
“What smell?” Trick yanked her back against him. “You smell lovely. Delightful. Like—”
“Like fifty pairs of smelly stockings!” She held her nose, but that didn’t help. “It’s awful. Can you not smell it?”
He sniffed at the air. “I suppose. But do I care? No. Hearts wounds, I’ve missed you.” He pressed his mouth to hers again, urgently, one arm holding her close while the other began hiking up her skirts.
She’d missed him, too. She wanted to do this.
She made an effort to sink into the kiss, to immerse herself in the sensation of Trick’s deft lips moving on hers, his fingers skimming over her silk-stockinged leg, his solid body and strong arm holding her up.
A tingling warmth began to grow within her, overwhelming conscious thought, replacing it with unthinking, unbridled physical need.
For all of five seconds.
“Ugh!” She broke the kiss. “I cannot stand it! It’s worse than fifty pairs of smelly stockings! It’s like a hundred rotten eggs! It’s like—”
“Bloody hell,” he interrupted, releasing her and stepping away. “I’ll open the windows.” Stalking over to the longest wall, he shoved up the top panels of the newfangled sash windows. “There. Better?”
“Now I’m cold.”
“I’ll warm you up in no time,” he said, crossing back to her and dragging her back into his arms. “Sweet Mary, leannan, I cannot wait—”
“Wait! Oh, my God, wait!” Spotting something on the floor beneath the bed, she pulled away to retrieve it. “A mousetrap.” She sniffed at it. “Set with the most awful-smelling cheese imaginable!”
It was a soft cheese. Hunting around the chamber, she found more of it smeared here and there, near where other traps were set. Along the windowsill, beneath the bed, across the top of the headboard. Exasperated, she threw back the counterpane, shrieking when she found traps in the bedding too.
“Who in their right mind puts mouse traps in a bed?”
Trick shrugged. “Colin said he saw mice in here. Someone must have got overzealous. Maybe Margaret.”
“We should have brought Edmund instead. He might have some common sense.”
“Don’t be so hard on the lass. She’s only trying to help.” He swiped the traps off the bed and onto the floor. “There. They’re gone.” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her onto the mattress, falling with her and wrapping his arms around her tightly.
But not so tightly that she couldn’t escape.
She leapt to her feet, holding her nose.
“I cannot make love with this stench in the room! I’m going to find Margaret.
She’ll need to toss all the mousetraps, air the room, and change the bedding.
I vow and swear, I’d rather deal with mice than this stink. ”
The expression on Trick’s face made her stifle a laugh. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him pout before, but he was pouting now, reminding her of a disappointed little boy. “Are you certain?” he asked.
She hesitated, the last of the tingling warmth still lingering in her middle. Her husband was sprawled on the bed, his silky-straight blond hair mussed, his snow-white shirt untucked, his gorgeous amber eyes imploring her. He looked better than dessert.
On her next inhale, she was certain.
“I’m certain.” So certain she walked to the door, threw it open, and headed to the attic to find Margaret—because she really couldn’t tolerate the stench a moment longer.
“I’ll meet you downstairs,” she called back. “Let’s gather the children and sing some carols. We’ll try again tonight.”