Chapter Fifteen
“Lisbeth, you can open your eyes now. I know you are awake.”
There was amusement in Oliver’s tone. Had her reluctance to fully wake been so obvious?
She touched him tentatively, like he might just turn into a puff of smoke and disappear before her eyes. “You are still here.” It was more a statement than a question.
He raised a brow. “You seem surprised. Did you really think I would leave you?”
“That is what men do, don’t they? I mean, afterwards?”
He laughed at that. “Only the stupid ones.”
His smile warmed her all the way to her toes. She reached up to capture his face so she could give him a good morning kiss. And it was a good morning, the best morning of her life.
He gathered her reassuringly in his arms. “I’m not leaving, at least, not for another hour or so,” he assured her.
Oliver kissed her with the enthusiasm that she had benefitted from last night.
Gentle but sure, confident but not overbearing.
She felt him swell against her thigh. A feeling of great satisfaction flowed through her even as her limbs turned to melted chocolate and her heart picked up pace in anticipation of what was to come.
She was able to make him react like that.
She had the power to turn this strong man into a slave to her every whim.
What’s more, he wanted to give her the chance to discover her desire, her sensual self as a woman.
She had already learned so much from him, but knew that she could have a lifetime and not learn everything there was to know about him and herself.
He made love to her less gently than last night, in no doubt now of her response.
He wasn’t rough but the power of his strokes brought her body into sharp relief.
She matched him stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss, and caress for decadent caress until they were both shuddering and gasping each other’s name.
“You were made for me,” he whispered in her ear.
“Only you,” she replied, holding him tightly to her.
She had no idea where these new feelings for him would lead but for now she just wanted to feel his weight on her, hear his words of encouragement, and make love to the man who had brought her back to life.
He held her for a while, the two of them safe and secure in a world all their own, but eventually, as she knew it would, reality returned.
“Lisbeth?”
“Yes?” She curled more closely to him even though his chest hair tickled her nose.
“I need feeding.”
“What?” She struggled to open her eyes.
“You have quite drained me, my love. I need food and a hot cup of tea.”
“Oh, yes, of course. I’ll ring the bell.” With that she slipped from the bed, forgetting completely she was naked as the day she was born, until she heard him groan and say, “Forget the bloody bell and get back here. Next time, I’ll ring the bell myself.”
Lisbeth could only smile as she looked over her shoulder to see the evidence for herself.
It was a most gratifying sight. He crooked his finger at her.
She smiled and dropped the bell pull. He smiled as she started walking back to the bed, slowly so he could take his fill of her nakedness.
She surprised even herself at her boldness in front of him.
When she reached the bed, his eyes were dark pools of desire. She crawled onto the mattress, but he stopped her from lying down.
“Do you like to ride, Lisbeth?”
“That’s an odd question at a time like this.”
“Let me rephrase. Would you like to ride me?” He took her hand and guided her until she was sitting astride him. She was in no confusion as to his meaning then.
“I’ve never ridden a horse like this,” she said to him as her hands came down to rest on his chest.
“There is a first time for everything, my dear. Besides, I’m not sure it can be done sidesaddle. We could always try that later if you wish.” With that he pulled her down for a kiss.
She guided him inside her and was surprised at the exquisite fullness she felt.
With his hands on her hips, he showed her the way, and it was bliss.
She rode him, slowly, then fast, and then slow again.
She rode him until her body contracted in bliss.
She flung her head back and let out a satisfied, “Yes!” He shuddered beneath her, and she collapsed happily and fully satisfied on his chest.
“You ride very well, Countess,” he drawled.
When her stomach gurgled with hunger, they both laughed and laughed and laughed.
*
They spent most of the day in easy conversation with each other.
Oliver told her stories of his days in the army, many of which she found hard to believe, and she found herself horrified that he had been in so much danger while de-coding messages.
He had a knack of making most of them sound implausible and she found herself laughing more than she had in a very, very long time.
His stories had not all been humorous. Oliver recounted many a dirty campaign in the field, but he did not give too much away.
He’d seen men die—many had been friends—and she sensed a deep sorrow within him for those who had lost their lives.
They did not talk of Nathaniel. That she had been grateful for. She had no wish to think of him ever again. They did not discuss Oliver’s brother Henry either. He was not ready, and she would not push.
Eating breakfast together was a… novel experience.
Lisbeth couldn’t stop blushing and Oliver kept winking at her between sips from his teacup.
She tried to keep up a serious facade for the sake of the servants, but it was nearly impossible.
They moved to the parlor and finally they were alone and she could relax.
Oliver was obviously enjoying himself. He looked so relaxed sitting back against the chair and idly reading the newspaper. Nathaniel had never taken any meals or tea with her. She had always been alone.
“So, my dear Lisbeth, are you going to give me my copy of your schedule?” he asked behind The Times he was reading.
Lisbeth gasped, surprised. She had been debating on whether to give it to him or not. She still felt its comforting pull but had tried to fight the urge to carry on as normal. In the end the schedule had won.
Still behind his paper he laughed, then bent the paper in half, top to bottom and looked over the top half. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you leaving my bed in your bare feet?”
“I did not want to wake you. And it is my bed, thank you very much.” She felt the blush return to her cheeks.
Oliver ignored her attempt to censure him. “I assume you have the whole twenty-four hours planned out, although I don’t recall having your wicked way with me last night being on your precious schedule.”
She blushed again.
“Nor this morning,” he said with a wink. “I can’t imagine what trials and tribulations you have in store for me.”
“Not nearly as torturous as you deserve,” Lisbeth replied, sipping her tea to hide her smile.
“In that case I must confess to being a little disappointed. I’ve become quite attached to your particular form of torture.”
Sighing loudly for effect, she put down her cup went out into the hall and returned with his schedule in her hand. She passed it to him and resumed her seat.
He laughed as he unfolded it. “Now, let me see…”
He took his time reading it. She waited for the inevitable snide remark or blusterous comment, but he said nothing. He refolded the schedule and slid it into his coat pocket.
Still, he said nothing. He picked up his cup and took a sip.
Nothing.
Lisbeth raised her eyebrow, wondering what he was doing. After a few more seconds he looked up and raised a brow too.
“I take it you don’t find fault with any of our appointments, then?” Lisbeth watched him, warily.
He smiled. “Why would I?”
“You know very well why.”
“I have no aversion to Hyde Park. I do not harbor allergies for grass, bees, or ducks.”
“But? Last night…”
“Last night taught me to listen to my intuition and to be prepared. You have no need to fear. I will keep you safe. However, I do find it fascinating that a woman such as you would want to put herself through such a ritual in the first place. A pretty and petty procession through Hyde Park at the fashionable hour is, according to what I’ve heard, a painfully slow process with very little… procession about it.”
“You’ve never ridden in the park, have you?” Lisbeth put down her cup and studied him.
“Ridden, yes, promenaded like a fool, no. Sorry to disappoint you but I was a little too busy dodging lead shot, cannon fire, and sabers, I’m afraid.”
She smiled. “I promise you will not have to dodge anything more alarming than a few stares and fakery.”
“And we are doing this because?”
“I need to show the ton that despite what happened last night at the theater, I am not going to conceal myself in my house, not anymore. I refuse to hide from scandal, no matter how mad it makes my brother-in-law.”
Oliver put his paper down, stood, and walked over to her chair. He leaned down, putting his hands on the arms of her chair. Then he leaned down and kissed her. She reached up and caressed his cheek which was rough with stubble. He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand.
“I do believe I should take my leave,” he said.
Alarm flew through her like a hurricane. “Why?”
“It seems I must make myself presentable if we are to send the tongues of the ton to twittering.”
“Oh,” she said, quite lost in his eyes and much relieved. She felt her body react to him, wanting him. She squeezed her thighs together. How would she ever get used to the way he made her feel?
He stood and kissed her hand. “Adieu, Lisbeth, until this afternoon.”
When he was gone the house seemed cold and lifeless again. She stood, took a few deep breaths, and made her way to her bedroom. She too must make herself presentable.
*