They made it to the second floor, and she whirled about to face him as he reached the top of the stairs, her countenance adorably indignant. “They’re not trousers, you vexing man. They’re?—”
He slanted his mouth over hers, stealing a kiss because he couldn’t possibly exist for another second on this bloody earth without having her lips beneath his. Her arms went around him, and she kissed him back immediately with a hunger that rivaled his own.
“Bloomers,” he supplied as he reluctantly tore his lips from hers before he did something idiotic like drop the lamp and set the cottage ablaze.
“You know quite well what they’re called. I think you enjoy nettling me.”
He enjoyed everything about her.
But he couldn’t say that, so he grinned instead. “I do admit to a partiality for when your eyes flash with irritation at me. They turn the color blue the sky gets just after a summer rainstorm has passed.”
She would never know how many times he had been tempted to kiss her senseless through their various clashes here at Wingfield Hall. It seemed an impossible dream that he could have her soft, lush mouth beneath his now whenever he wished.
Temporarily, he reminded himself harshly.You have but a few days to get her out of your blood, and then your time with her must be at an end. Three more, to be precise.
How the hell would that ever be enough?
Her face softened and she smiled at him, and he tried very hard to believe that it would be possible to grow tired of this sweet, seductive hellion.
“Where is the bedroom?” she asked softly.
His cock, already hardening, went rigid as a fire poker. “Come with me.”
Rhiannon wokein the middle of the night to the music of rain on the cottage roof and Aubrey’s ragged sleep breathing.
“No,” he groaned. “Please, no.”
A possessive arm was wrapped around her waist, and their bodies were nestled together, her back to his chest. His hold on her tightened, his breaths growing more erratic as he made a choked sound.
Something was disturbing him. A nightmare, perhaps?
“Don’t go,” he muttered.
She rubbed his arm soothingly. “I’m not going anywhere, my love.”
He burrowed his face into her throat. “Blood. Oh God. So much blood.”
And then he made an odd sound, almost as if he were weeping. Which was truly unusual, for he was always so self-possessed, so cold and calculated. The Duke of Richford, sobbing in his sleep?
“Aubrey,” she murmured in a hushed tone. “You’re having a bad dream.”
To her relief, her words seemed to pacify him. His breathing gradually settled down and his grip on her eased, the sobbing sounds slowly stopping. For an indeterminate span of time, she lay there, listening to him sleep, stroking his arm, wondering what manner of nightmare had been haunting his slumber.
Her own sleep remained elusive, her mind flitting with far too many thoughts. In the hush of the night, she simply lay there, savoring his proximity. When he slept, all the protective walls he kept around himself were lowered. This, she thought, was the true Aubrey. The lover who tended to her pleasure and her every need with unhesitating care. The man who wrapped her in his arms and held her close.
These were the moments when she allowed herself to hope that perhaps one day, if she worked diligently enough to chip away at the ice he kept around his heart, he might love her as she loved him. That mayhap one day, he would see how perfectly they were matched. Even if she knew those hopes were foolish.
She huffed out a small sigh, staring into the shadows, admiring the way the moonlight dappled his forearm where it rested over her above the bedclothes. They had adjourned to the largest of several bedrooms upstairs, and they had made love until well after midnight, until they had both been sated and exhausted in the very best way.
How she wished that tomorrow would not come, bringing her one day closer to the end of the house party, when they would inevitably part. What would she do when she saw him again in London? Would they meet as strangers, Aubrey pretending as if they had never been lovers? Would he have his newest conquest on his arm?
Rhiannon shuddered as heavy dread curdled her stomach. She didn’t want to think about Aubrey carrying on with his life any more than she wanted to think about returning to hers. Carnis was awaiting her acceptance of his proposal. Like morning, her return to her ordinary life was inevitable.
Aubrey shifted, and she felt the press of a warm mouth to her bare shoulder. “Are you cold, love?”
She had been too caught up in her ruminations to realize he had awakened. “No.”
She wondered if she ought to ask him about his nightmare but decided against it. Whatever had brought it upon him, the dream was over.
