With another groan, he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her down for a frenzied kiss. She gripped him harder and was rewarded with another groan, then suddenly he gave a low, anguished cry of release, his back arching off the bed as he discharged the hot shooting glory of his seed, raining it on his hard, flat belly.
Her inner core pulsed. Never in her life had she witnessed anything so erotic and beautiful. He was beautiful. His rigid body slowly relaxed, as if all the tension flowed out of him. He lay on the bed, spent, panting, his expression one of wondrous bliss.
Still with eyes closed, he murmured, “You know when we leave here tomorrow, we can never do that again.”
Her mouth firmed. He might think that, but she had at least a week of freedom left before returning home. She intended to make the most of it.
He cast a forearm over his brow and swept his lashes open, gazing at her from under his arm.
Now it was her turn to smile. That look didn’t speak of never doing this again. It spoke of promises of more wonderful nights in his arms.
With a playful growl, he reached out and pulled her down onto his chest, then pressed a kiss to her lips. “You little minx. Only until we get back to London.”
On a satisfied sigh, she curled into his side and promptly fell asleep.
Rockwell lay awake as she slept beside him, gently stroking her silken skin.What a cad.He’d taken advantage of her sorrow.But you needed her.Besides, she might not have accepted it yet, but there was no escaping this scandal. The only honorable thing to do was to marry her.
He looked down at her beautiful face. Those lips that made him want to kiss her every time she smiled. He had been right.Hidden behind the shy exterior was a passionate woman who needed the right man to reveal her inner strength. He was the right man, and the idea of any other man touching her made his blood boil. She was his.
But as that thought entered his head, the horror-filled idea of his freedom being curtailed coiled around his heart. The thought of being trapped made him gasp for air. His life would no longer be his, and he still had so much of the world to discover.
It was his father who had instilled wanderlust in him. Perhaps his father did so because he understood what the life of a second son might be—empty, meaningless.
His father used to bring him into his study and show him the map of the world. They’d play a game where he’d spin the globe and his father would stop it and wherever it stopped by the marker, they would talk about the country. His father had told him vivid tales of countries he now understood his father never saw. He could remember the awe and longing in his father’s voice.
He thought his father was very much like him—a wanderer who could never wander because he was the marquess. Rockwell’s uncle had all the adventures instead, and he wondered if his father resented the life he’d had to live.
Would he?
What a mess. He pressed a kiss to Farah’s head as he finally closed his eyes. He needed sleep, but he thought it was quite a shame that if he let himself, he could easily love this woman curled into his side. But he had a world to conquer first.
Chapter Ten
It was asolemn carriage ride back to Dublin. Caitria looked as if she’d been crying, and Lucien looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Rockwell had barely spoken to her since breakfast. She’d woken alone in her bed as she knew she would. He’d already broken his fast when she came down and excused himself to ready their carriage to return to Dublin.
How could he put what they shared behind him so easily? She glanced across the carriage at him, but he was looking out the window. After last night, Rockwell could tear her open and own her heart. Even now, her body hummed with the longing to be held in his arms once again. But it probably wasn’t as special for him. He’d done that with many women and more… He was adamant they could share passion, and love was not a requirement.
Perhaps it was a requirement for her. She looked at Lucien. While he was a stunningly handsome man, she couldn’t imagine wanting to share her body with him. What did that mean?
Just then, Ava-Marie, who’d been sleeping on Caitria’s lap, awoke. “Are we there yet?”
Caitria murmured, “Not much longer. You’ve been such a good girl.”
The little girl sat up and squeezed herself onto the seat between the two ladies. She started swinging her legs, banging her heels against the wood seatback. She laughed up at Farah.“I’m going on a ship, with Daid and Auntie Caitria. Isn’t it exciting?”
“It is. I’m going, too. It’s Lord Ware’s ship.”
That made her little legs stop and her eyes widen. She looked up at Rockwell. “Is it really your ship?” she asked him.
He turned to smile down at Ava-Marie and stole Farah’s breath. Oh, to have him look at her like that every day. “It is. My ship’s name is theDoreen.”
“That’s a girl’s name.”
“Sailors often name their ships after women. They like the idea that a mother figure is looking out for them and guiding them home.”
“My Mama is looking after me from heaven.” She stood, rocking with the carriage’s movement. “Where will I sleep on the ship?”
“You’ll have a cabin with a bunk to sleep on.”
