“Well, it would be much nicer to hear you call me Diana after you kiss me rather than ‘Your Grace’.”
He laughed, recalling how the day before he had murmured the address after kissing her, practically moaning with yearning to have such a kiss again.
“Perhaps I could.” He was beginning to capitulate. It was hard to refuse her anything, especially when she was looking up at him with so much hope in her eyes.
“Please?” she said again.
“Very well, but on one condition.” He held up a finger from his free hand. “If I must call you Diana, then you must call me Owen.”
“Owen …” She tried the name out for size on her tongue. Owen was reminded of the dreams he had of her, particularly the one where she was beneath him on the bed, moaning his name. “You have a deal.”
“Wonderful,” he said, steering her through the trees as she hobbled beside him. They came to a stop near the stream, flowing freely today, with the bank frosted up at the sides, but no longer covered in ice. At the side of the bank, there was a clump of snowdrops. Diana bent down and picked one of the dainty flowers up from the earth, snapping the green stem between her fingers and standing straight again, twizzling it around in a circle so that the bell-shaped flower spun with her. “Beautiful … Diana,” he said, saying her name.
“It feels very intimate when you call me that,” she said, angling her head slightly towards him, though she kept her eyes on the flower.
“Do not say things like intimate with me, Diana,” he teased her as he led her forward along the stream again.
“Why not?”
“Because you have my mind wandering to places it should not go. Such as when we were last here, and I was lifting the hem of your dress.” He bent down and whispered in her ear despite the fact they were completely alone. She giggled and blushed again.
“Maybe I quite like the idea of you thinking such things,” she said, biting her lip with the movement.
His mind wandered again, only this time he imagined how they could kiss against one of these old oak trees, with his hand reaching down beneath her skirts. He would never do such a thing here. It was not where she deserved to be adored.
Then an image shot into his mind. He was not the man with her. It was the duke.
He abruptly stopped walking, unintentionally tugging Diana’s arm and pulling her to a stop as she spun the snowdrop round in her fingers.
“Is something wrong?” she asked softly.
“My mind went wandering again. It was very happy for a minute, then … I thought of another man with you.”
“Ah … my husband?” she asked, looking up to him, with her green eyes restless, darting about. Owen felt the jealousy curdle in his stomach, but he had to know.
“You do not have to answer this, Diana, but I fear I cannot stop myself from asking it anyway, but I presume on your wedding night, you two …?”
“We did,” she said, holding his gaze this time. She swallowed with the words as though it were painful to her. Owen sighed deeply, hating the words.
“Please tell me at least he did not hurt you.”
She released his arm. The loss of her touch pained him, and he followed her as she walked along the river.
“I am told every first time hurts,” she said, lifting her head and looking off somewhere in the distance. “I think it is fair to say I did not enjoy it. He did not force me if that is what you fear, but no … I have to admit, from that night, I did not really understand what all the excitement was about, yet then …”
“Then?” he said, following her still. She stopped and looked around.
“Certain dreams of you make me think there could be excitement in it.” Her confession made him reach for her. He took her hand that was not clutching the snowdrop and lifted it to his lips. Unlike the usual kisses he placed to the back of her hand, he turned her gloved hand over this time and placed a kiss to the underside of her bare wrist that peeked out between her sleeve and her glove. She gasped at the touch.
“You should be adored, Diana. Each moment you share your bed with someone, they should be bringing you more excitement, more pleasure and thrills than you thought there could be.” He moved closer towards her, unable to stop himself. “That is the way it should be.”
“You could show me?” she whispered, tilting her head up towards him as he bent down to her, inches away from kissing her.
Show her?
God, how he wanted to. He longed to take Diana back to the house and find some secluded corner to pleasure her as she deserved to be pleasured.
“You are married, Diana,” he said against her lips as he moved down to kiss her.
