Chapter 15 #3
“The duke talks too much about matters not of his concern. This is the negative side of families, I think. Everyone minds everyone else’s business.”
Ives opened his eyes and looked at her.
“It was from Mr. Notley,” she admitted. “He is sure he has information about my father’s inheritance.”
“That is good news.”
“I hope so. If there is an income—just knowing there is—it changes everything.” She pulled the coat a little closer. “Well, not everything, but it will make life easier.”
“Then it is very good news.” He took her hand. “Did he write about anything else?”
She wanted to lie. For a day or two more, she wanted to silence all the voices in London. “He writes that a trial date has been set. Were you not informed?”
“A letter came for me too. I did not open mine yet.”
“You are smarter than I am about delaying the calls of duty.”
“More experienced, that is all.”
“When did you think to open it?”
“Perhaps tomorrow. Maybe the next day.”
He appeared a little sad. That touched her. “I am sure I have lost my letter, Ives.”
“How careless of you.”
“Wasn’t it? It is nowhere to be seen in my chamber. I doubt I will find it again for a day or so.”
He stood and offered his hand. “Two days, then. We will not speak of it until then. Let us go back to the house.”
* * *
Everyone knew. Padua could tell. Just what they all knew, she was not sure. The conversation at dinner sounded too merry and fast, however. The jokes made everyone laugh too much. Eva acted normal, but the gentlemen forced a gaiety.
Not for Ives’s benefit, she realized. For hers.
They all knew that the love affair to which they had given safe harbor would end soon.
Ives in particular knew it, and he joined his brothers in surrounding her with lighthearted banter and wit.
She joined in, so the nostalgia already creeping into her heart would not ruin what time she had left.
She could not control it that night, however.
It colored every reaction. Ives made the pleasure long and slow, and sent her crashing over the edge three times before they joined in a poignant union that left her close to tears.
He handled her as if he knew her mood, and shared it, and perhaps foresaw the longing to come.
“We will go riding tomorrow,” he said when she walked toward the bed in the middle of the night. She had slipped away to the dressing room while he slept, but now he waited, propped on his elbow, for her return. “Eva found something you can wear, didn’t she?”
“She did, but I will look foolish anyway, because I do not know how to ride.”
“It is easy. You will like it. Think of it as another new experience.”
“You do not think I have had enough of those?” She leaned against the bedpost and admired how he looked amidst the sheets with the warm illumination from the lamp etching his torso and arms. Just the sight of him stirred her.
It always had, but those stirrings knew their own mind now, and held memories and a purpose, and she could not control them well.
“Not nearly enough.” He shook his head like a man overwhelmed by duty. “There is so much to teach you—”
He caught himself, but her mind finished his little joke. And so little time.
He cocked his head and studied her standing there. Wicked lights entered his eyes. He threw back the sheet and walked over to her, giving her a good measuring from crown to feet.
“What?” she asked, looking down, wondering what was wrong.
“I am just calculating.”
“That is an odd answer.”
He stepped closer. So close he trapped her against the bedpost. He frowned. “No, I don’t think so. We were wrong.”
“We were?”
“Not you and me we.”
“Wrong about what?” The feel of him all along her body had her arousal jumping again.
“Whether, with your height, I could take you standing without having to lift you. It was a point of curiosity.”
“Curiosity for we? Not you and me we, but another we?”
His expression fell, then he flashed a disarming smile. “The royal we. Me.”
She eyed him skeptically. His attention returned to the problem on his mind.
“There is only one way to find out. Are you comfortable there, against that post? The wall might be better, in the event the experiment fails. Yes, I think so.” He took her hand and led her over to the wall.
It did not take long for her to be ready.
She always experienced the pleasure more intensely when she remained upright.
Raw physical sensations puddled low, incited by his penetrating kisses and wicked hands.
He slid inside her, high and deep. She thought he would lift her to her toes before he stopped. The fullness made her gasp.
She felt him differently. He pressed new places, inside and out. Exciting ones. He moved once, twice, then paused. “It is cheating, but—” He lifted her left leg by the knee and held it hooked over his hip. He moved again. “Better. Perfect.”
She would have agreed, if she could speak, but she could not stop gasping with amazement. He grunted each time he pressed up into her, each sound an affirmation of pleasure. It was the noisiest joining they had ever shared.
He did lift her at the end, so her legs circled him and his final thrusts slammed her against the wall. Carrying her like that, he staggered to the bed, where they collapsed.