Chapter Twelve
Dear God.
That coupling had taken much from him, and it had also surprised the hell out of him. Barr didn’t care, for not only was he perfectly content to lie with her on the sofa, but he also wondered what was wrong with him that he apparently couldn’t keep his hands off this woman.
The scent of her perfume haunted his mind with the hints of vanilla and floral.
They would forever remind him of her if she should ever move out of his life.
Beyond that, the softness of her skin, the sounds of her breathing, the flutter of her pulse beneath her skin, the way the brown arc of her lashes against her cheeks all worked toward fascination that bordered on obsession.
Damn, but when was the last time that happened to him?
Perhaps he was touched in the head or half to being senile. Perhaps something wasn’t quite right with his brain; he couldn’t remember a time when he’d been this compelled to join physically with a woman, and one he’d only just met a handful of days ago.
Was this what happened when a man grew older? Did it mean the end was near?
Then all those thoughts cleared. More likely, he feared he might like her more than he should, but surely it was merely due to all the physical pleasures they’d been sharing. Love didn’t happen that quickly.
Did it?
Of course not. Don’t be an arse, Scarborough. He tightened his arm about Cate’s hip as she lightly dozed. What he felt for her wasn’t love.
Was it? Could he envision his future with her in it in some capacity? That required more thought than he had energy for, so he contented himself with holding her and enjoying the moment.
But damn, this was certainly the height of scandal, and it couldn’t last. That was the reality of things.
“I can almost hear you thinking, Scarborough.” Cate’s statement was a bit muffled, for her head rested on his upper chest near the folds of his cravat. “Please don’t ruin this moment with worry. What’s done is done, and that’s the end.”
He frowned. “Does that mean you aren’t enjoying what we’ve shared thus far?”
“Absolutely not. Though I am still annoyed that I haven’t seen you fully nude.” She rose up on an elbow to better meet his gaze, and the cheeky grin she gave him had the power to turn his world upside down.
“There is that, but I could say the same of you.” Now that the idea of seeing her sans clothing was in his mind, he couldn’t evict it. Renewed interest shivered through his shaft. Lifting a hand, he let his fingertips drift over her cheek, and the warmth of her nearly had him shivering with need.
Her eyes darkened from his touch. “Do stop looking at me like that, for you will surely kill me with all this exercise. Not that I mind, for I have never had a lover of your particular appetite.” She briefly pressed her lips to his in a kiss he could easily get lost in.
When she pulled back, a pretty blush stained her cheeks.
“Beyond that, you have managed to surprise me at every turn, not merely with your carnal prowess.” There was nothing but honesty in her eyes, and there was a moment when he felt he would drown in those rich brown depths.
“I am discovering that you are interesting in your own right.”
“Well, that is good to know.”
“Why you try to hide that, I have no idea. It is perfectly acceptable for a duke to have other interests beyond his title and duties to parliament.” She dropped her hand to his chest, and the muscles in his abdomen clenched with anticipation.
“Ah, well, perhaps I am a slow learner.” Yet what did he truly know about her?
Perhaps it was time to have a personal talk that had nothing to do with tumbling into bed.
Or rather onto whatever piece of furniture was nearby and available since they’d not yet managed to seek out a bed.
God, what would she look like draped over his desk in this study?
What the hell is wrong with me?
Perhaps nothing. Was this his natural personality coming out, thanks to her encouragement? It was too early in the conversation to say for a fact.
Never had he been like that when married to his wife.
He’d conducted himself like a proper gentleman, bedded his wife behind closed doors in the suite they’d shared, had intercourse once a week depending on their combined schedules, and generally presented themselves as a proper couple of the beau monde.
For the whole course of his marriage, they’d been staid and consistent in every aspect.
They had been the typical societal couple and had done what had been expected of them.
Yet with Cate, there was none of that. Being with her was frantic, electric, explosive.
There was nothing staid or scheduled about her or them together.
With her, he felt as if he were continuously falling down the stairs or being thrown off a cliff, barely able to catch his breath, and he couldn’t wait to have his hands on her body, couple with her as if he was naught but an animal.
It didn’t mean one or the other of the relationships were wrong, it just meant they were different and allowed him to explore different sides of himself.
Outside that, he admired how Cate’s mind worked, how she was able to puzzle through the symbols and drawings and other text of that Ancient Egyptian book.
What else was she about? There was a craving deep inside him to learn everything about her so that his brain might catch up with his body in being lost.
She watched him with a sleepy, sated expression, and all he wanted to do with kiss her. “You are once more lost in thought, aren’t you?”
“A bit, yes.” He gave her what he hoped was a wry grin. “I have been since we met, I think.”
“Such gammon. There is nothing special about me to warrant that.” But her smile and the way her eyes lit said otherwise.
“I think you have no idea.” Then it was his turn to gently press his lips to hers.
The longer he laid on that sofa with her, the more he feared they would linger in the library for purposes that had nothing to do with a translation.
While he wanted nothing more than to use himself up in the pursuit of pleasure with her, there needed to be something else between them, else that passion would burn out and they would be left with nothing.
And that was something he couldn’t contemplate.
Moving off the sofa, he quickly stuffed his flagging length into his breeches and then did up the buttons of his front falls. “Come walk with me.”
She frowned as she sat up then fussed with putting her clothing to rights and tucking her charms away. “Where? It’s raining.”
“In the garden for a bit. Perhaps around the square.” He shrugged. “Does it matter? I’m bored of being stuck in the house all the time. I need a different perspective.” Perhaps it would help to clear his head so he could make sense of what was happening between him and Cate.
“Um… I suppose that would be all right, as long as we bring umbrellas. If my clothing is too wet, I’ll need to go home early before I can finish today’s pages.”
“Fair enough.” He nodded. Above everything, he didn’t wish to forfeit this fleeting time with her from today. “I promise you won’t become too wet.” Unless he took an unplanned foray between her thighs. Then he could easily find out just how wet she could be…
Good God, Scarborough. You are headed to Bedlam for certain.
Ten minutes later saw them in the back garden, and with him in his top hat and greatcoat and Cate wearing her pelisse and bonnet, both carrying umbrellas, he led her into the square beyond the garden.
As the drum of the rain on the umbrella’s surface muffled the rest of the world, he strolled at her side while avoiding puddles or dodgy-looking muddy areas.
“Regarding what you and I just got up to…”
“Do stop, Barr. I don’t want to hear your speech full of obligation or rambling gratitude.
We came together. We gave into passion. There is nothing more to tell.
” She shook her head as they walked side by side.
“I allow you to have access to my body because I enjoy carnal endeavors and couplings the same as you. I don’t want anything from you after the fact, and I certainly am not demanding that you marry me because of it.
” As she turned her head to meet his gaze, there was nothing but amusement in her eyes.
“I merely want to spend time with you, no matter the capacity.”
“That is quite how I feel as well.” He kept to the pavement that went around the square so she wouldn’t need to walk through mud, but this was the perfect opportunity to delve more into her life.
“Since meeting you, I have admired how you work and how your mind puts things together; however, beyond that, I am in the dark on what kind of woman you are. I would like to change that.”
Would that sound too much like a declaration or an indication of courtship? Did it matter?
Slowly, Cate nodded. “I have no issue with that. What would you like to know?”
What, indeed? “Uh…” Suddenly, his mind went blank, then he cleared his throat. “What is your favorite dessert?”
“Raspberry trifle.” She slid a glance to him. “Yours?”
“Sweet mince pies. Mrs. Travers makes them at this time of year only, and I can hardly have enough of them. Would make myself sick on them if I could.”
The sound of her laughter went through him and lit tiny fires in his blood.
“I could see how you might find yourself addicted.” She held her umbrella a little higher.
“There is a special sort of gingerbread cake my grandmother used to have made just for Christmas dinner. I haven’t had it since she died, and hadn’t realized how much I missed it until now. ”
Barr tucked that information away. Perhaps if he could meet with Mrs. Travers and talk to her about it, she might be able to find a recipe similar enough to bake the cake for his own Christmas dinner…
that he would invite Cate and her father to.
“What color do you favor when you have gowns and dresses made?”