Cassandra’s greedy heart surged with pride at the sight of him standing at her threshold, for he was strong, handsome, and virile—and he was all for her.
Morla gasped. She’d likely never seen any man in his nightclothes, much less her employer. Red heat crept up her thin face.
It was wicked timing on Wade’s part.
The sanctimonious maid stood between a duke and his mistress. Both were dressed for bed. Cassandra wasinbed. His Grace’s presence in this bedchamber could not possibly be explained away.
Horrified, Morla grabbed her skirts and fled the room. She closed the door at her heels, forgetting all about the chocolate. She was desperate to get away.
“I heard shouting,” Wade said.
Cassandra shrugged, pulling back the covers for him. “She is offended by me. Oddly, she took exception to my offering Wenna some leftover hot chocolate. Was I wrong to do so?”
He joined her in bed. He plucked a biscuit from the saucer and ate it. “As far as I am concerned, your word is law. If Tremaine, Mrs. Cardy, or any of the bloody maids take issue with that, they can be replaced.” He chewed. “Sack the lot of them. Let’s go to London and live at Wadebridge House. We’ll be the toast of town.”
She dusted his crumbs off the counterpane. “I am quite happy here, thank you—though by making friends with Wenna, it seems I’ve made an enemy of Morla.”
“Damned if you do…” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’ll work it out. I’ve every faith in you.”
Cassandra smiled. “I hoped you’d come tonight. I’ve reached your favorite part ofRookwood.”
“I am not much in the mood for reading this evening.”
She took a sip of chocolate, and then offered him the rest. “Oh?”
Wade swallowed the lukewarm cocoa in one gluttonous swig. He discarded the china cup, saying, “No, indeed. Why don’t you dim the lamp, buttercup?”
Cassandra did as he wished. Her book lay forgotten on the bedside table, quickly banished to the shadows. The only light in the room streamed through the open windows. A summer breeze fanned the curtains, and she swore she could smell the sea.
Wadebridge nestled deeper under the bedcovers, turning to face her. His hands found hers beneath the sheets, and he drew her to him.
Free of corsets and crinoline, her body fitted against his. Barely two scraps of linen separated their flesh. She felt the firm lines of his chest, the warmth of his thighs. Wade’s strong arms bracketed her waist. Palms spanned her belly, her back, her hips. Careful fingers traced her curves.
He wanted her. Tonight, he intended to make her his own.
Cassandra searched out his lips in the moonlight. She peppered kisses along the seam of his mouth, from corner to corner. Her hands fisted the fabric of his night shirt. She pulled it taut over his chest, baring more of his flesh to her gaze.
The warmth of his body heated the fragrant remnants of his shaving lotion. He’d shaved not an hour before, and his cheeks were soft and smooth against her own. Cassandra moved her mouth to his jaw, nibbling his earlobe before sliding her tongue down the column of his throat.
He was soft and smooth there, too.
“Cassie…Cassie…”he whispered as she worshipped him.
Wade ran his hand up her thigh, dragging the hem of her night rail higher and higher. She was covered from view by the bedsheets, but her sensitive flesh was bared to his touch. The pad of his thumb stroked her.
He was so good to her. So gentle, so restrained. He did not rush to take what he hoped to have—what she longed to give. Tender fingers coaxed her thighs apart, and she let him fill his hands.
Cassandra wanted him,all of him, yet a nagging voice in her head recited cold, clinical facts. That doctor’s face loomed against the velvet bed-hangings and scalloped ceiling, just as he had loomed over her all those years ago.
Inspecting her. Diagnosing her.
Finding her frigid and lacking.
“Wade…” she whispered against her lover’s open mouth. Panic surged. Had she gone too far to pull back? “Wade, no. Stop.”
Fingers stilled. Hands retreated. “What? What’s wrong?”
She breathed a sigh of relief. Of course he had stopped. This was Wade—her darling, beloved, understanding Wade, who would never take what wasn’t freely given.
