The eyes staring at her were warm, filled with promises, the smile sensual and very appealing. “You should rest a little. It’s been a busy day.”
“Perhaps I should.”
“It will be an even busier night,” he murmured as he helped her to her feet.
She turned her head, looking at him, feeling the want rise within her. “I do hope so.”
ChapterTwenty
Tense and on edge, Gwyneth heaved a sigh of relief when the day finally ended. Whether it was the concern over the potential blackmail threat, the after-effects of turning down the Baron, or the knowledge that tonight Jeremy would come to her…she was close to emotionally exhausted.
Her hand shook a little as she slipped from her gown, washed and put on her robe. Refusing to accept that it might be nerves, she looked at herself in the mirror over her bureau as she sat to brush her hair. It had definitely thickened, and for that she was grateful. It still showed no signs of lengthening very much, but if she were honest with herself, she found the short curls to her liking. Easy to care for, the chestnut lights were returning, helped along by the rose soap and the oils recommended by both Mrs B and Mrs Smart.
Simple, but effective, like many of the ways in the country.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear Jeremy enter, and jumped when his image appeared behind her in the mirror. He put his hands on her shoulders, calming her.
“Hush, dear one. I didn’t want to make you jump, but I didn’t want to advertise my presence either.”
She nodded, staring at his face, partly shadowed now in the semi-darkness. He was so handsome. “It’s all right.” She turned on the stool, seeing his robe. He looked…somehow more masculine, more…everything. Clad in dark blue wool, simply tied at the waist, she could see a little chest showing between the lapels. Her gaze travelled upward.
“Jeremy…” she whispered. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He pulled her to her feet. “Are you sure? Very sure?”
“Yes.”
“That’s good.” He ran his hand around her face, cupping her chin and raising it so that he could bend toward her. “Then I can do something I very much want to do…”
He kissed her, gently at first, his arm surrounding her and lifting her into his body. Without her shoes she realised for the first time how tall he was, and how short she was. But nevertheless, his mouth took hers, sweetly, easily, urging her lips apart with his tongue and making her moan as she allowed him entrance.
Her hands reached for him, running up his chest to his neck, locking there and holding them together as they explored the kiss, deepened it and let it claim them both.
She broke free, gasping his name. “Jeremy…” She freed the tie of his robe, pushing the fabric aside. “God, you’re lovely,” she whispered, stroking her palms over the firm planes and ridges she’d exposed. Whorls of hair dappled his skin and arrowed down his body—she pushed the robe completely away and sucked in a breath of air at the rigid length of him emerging from the fair curls between his legs.
“Kiss me again,” he growled, pulling her against his nakedness.
Willingly she went to him, her senses luxuriating in the heat from his bare body as it seeped through the thinner silk of her own robe. She felt his hardness, an arousal she’d not anticipated, and knew that her body was responding with tears of eagerness.
Desire was rising, and she eagerly embraced it. She held a man who wanted her, who touched her with gentleness, affection and a measure of demanding passion.
Had she ever experienced this before?
Only once. And now, it was so much better, since the apprehension of a young girl was gone, leaving anticipation in its wake.
“Ohhh,” she sighed as his lips left hers to travel down her cheek to her neck and her shoulders. He spun her around, laughing, and pushed the edges of her robe apart as he set her back on her feet. She knew one breast was bared and felt her nipple harden as he stared at it. Just that look was sufficient…if he touched her…
They both froze at the sound of her bedroom door quietly opening.
“My Lady, did you…”
It was Gabriel. He too froze as he gawked at the two of them, Jeremy’s body exposed, and Gwyneth’s naked shoulders in front of him.
“I…I…I’m sorry…” He stuttered over the words, his cheeks turning crimson.
Gwyneth looked at Jeremy as he gazed at Gabriel, and a memory crept into her mind—something Mrs B had said to her.
“Try two at a time…”
