He grinned. “Guilty as charged. In fact, I’m about to break the rules even more. I have an idea.”
He jumped up from his chair and went to the bathing chamber. After turning the knobs on the bathtub, it started filling with hot water.
“Are you going to take a bath now?” she inquired, puzzled. “Your tea will be quite cold by the time you finish your bath.”
“No.Weare going to take a bath. While enjoying our tea.”
Her mouth fell open in bafflement. “You are an endless fountain of wicked ideas,” she declared at last, but he detected a hint of excitement in her gaze.
“Thank you, I try,” he replied with mock seriousness.
Her gurgle of laughter was all the permission he needed. He lifted the small table and carried it, together with the tea tray, into the bathroom. Then he slowly stripped both of their clothes off until they were both naked and sank happily into the hot water.
The tea definitely tasted better when enjoyed while holding her slippery, naked body in his arms. And although the warm biscuits looked delicious, her breasts were a more tempting morsel over which to spread the cream. He slathered a generous amount over the delicate orbs, placing a little dollop of jam over the pink nipples.
She straddled and rode him while he made sure he lapped up every bit of cream and jam from her delicious breasts. It was the finest meal he had ever had. Thank goodness the bath was big enough. With all her thrashing and squirming, they ended up splashing water over the edge.
The only reason they bothered to attend dinner at all was because, by that time, they both needed sustenance. He couldn’t keep himself from devouring her for dessert, enjoying her at his leisure. Taking her again and again until they had collapsed in each other’s arms.
His appetite for her seemed insatiable. He refused to feel guilty over it, for she seemed equally enthusiastic. Maybe theephemeral nature of this time they had carved out of their lives to be together fueled a desperate urgency in their lovemaking. The fear that one day, perhaps soon, this feast of love they enjoyed would end, and they would starve.
AT LAST, HE HAD GOTTENhis wish. As the first rays of the sun filtered through the drapes, filling the cozy room with a soft glow, Gabriel indulged his eyes on the sight of Hannah’s face resting on the pillow next to him. Falling asleep with her in his arms had been a delight. Waking up next to her, magical. His breath caught at the sheer perfection of the moment.
How many times had he imagined it? And yet his imagination paled compared to the reality. Her delicate features, so soft and vulnerable in sleep, were the most lovely sight he had ever contemplated.
Before he could check his movement, his fingers had captured a lock of pale hair that had fallen across her cheek. Marveling at the silken texture of the rioting loose curls that reflected every shade of gold, he rubbed it between his fingertips, smiling.
She would fret at having fallen asleep with her hair loose. Would complain at the difficulty of taming it this morning, especially without her maid. Soon she would realize the futility of trying to keep her hair perfectly coiffed while they were here. He preferred her mane loose and wild and would take every opportunity to undo her hair and brush his fingers through it. And when he didn’t do it, the sea breeze would take care of it.
She sighed and turned in her sleep. The sheet slipped, revealing one timid nipple peeking up at him. He groaned. Oh, how he ached to kiss her pearly skin, lower the blankets to uncover the sweet orbs of her breasts. She would be warm and soft from sleep, and he would take his time arousing her awake...
No. He should let her sleep. She needed to recover from last night’s activities. The memory had the double effect of making him smile and get hard at the same time. Quite the feat. But then, his body did respond in disconcerting ways around her.
Before his will broke and he gave in to the impulse to awaken her, he got out of bed, washed, and dressed for the day. He would ask Mrs. Marlowe for a picnic basket for breakfast and directions to a suitable spot.
He could spend all day, every day of their holiday, locked in this room, making love to her. But the funny thing was, as much as he enjoyed making love to her, spending time with her out of bed was just as enjoyable. With Hannah, he wanted everything. All her moments, all her facets.
And that was the biggest surprise—and the biggest danger—of all.
CHAPTER 32
THE DAYS BY THE SEAhad the contradictory quality of drifting slowly and flying by too fast. Hannah mused as she affixed a hat on top of her head. She couldn’t believe it had been a week since their arrival. A blissful week of days filled with walks by the shore, picnics on the cliffs, and glorious lovemaking. They were going on an excursion today. Gabriel had gone out to arrange for a curricle to take them there.
With every passing day, she was more at ease with him. They had fallen into this comfortable routine, almost like domestic bliss, where they fell asleep in each other’s arms and woke up together. Made lazy love in the morning sunshine, bathed together. They would help each other get dressed. Well...sometimes. Other times the help was counterproductive as they ended up tearing each other’s clothes off. But it was fine, for they had nowhere else to be. No expectations put on their time.
All her cares and troubles seemed worlds away. As if nothing existed but Gabriel and her. This moment. She felt happier than she had ever been before. And paradoxically, the happier she felt, the more anxious she became. Time was running out. This idyllic interlude would end soon. She and Gabriel would have to part ways. Return to their real lives. How could she bear it?
How could she go on without him? And yet, she must. For Harold. For the child they might have conceived. For Gabriel, even. He was being incredibly generous. Caring. Alwaysensuring her comfort, her pleasure. Protecting her against everything. Taking care of her.
It had been so long since she’d had someone to rely on. In the early days of her marriage, Harold had been her rock. But little by little, over the years, as his health declined and she took on more responsibility, their roles had shifted. She had not realized how burdened she was until Gabriel had taken charge. With him, she didn’t have to think, to plan, to make decisions other than for her own enjoyment. He took care of the rest. Capable, efficient. Solid.
But this situation was so unfair to him. He deserved a real partner. A real relationship. He should be thinking about finding a wife and having children he could call his own. Not be embroiled in this deception with her. The pain that lanced through her heart at imagining Gabriel with another woman was a sign of how far she had fallen.
A familiar knock on the door heralded the arrival of the object of her musings. Yes, she had come to recognize even the staccato rhythm of his knocks. He always did it in a particular pattern. One rap, followed by three shorter ones. Did he know he did that, or did he do it unconsciously? It was one of the myriad small, apparently insignificant details about him that she had become so dear to her.
“We could leave when you are ready. I had secured a curricle, but the innkeeper assured me it is better to simply walk there. It is not far. Just a fifteen-minute promenade along a coastal path.”
She stood from the small vanity and turned to face him. “That sounds lovely. Let’s go.”
