“Thank you,” Prim whispered.
Leo just nodded and guided her ahead. The four of them kept their stroll through the gardens, attracting the most attention from the other visitors. They all gawked at the quartet as they walked around joking and smiling, the image of a united front that mainly protected Prim. Leo couldn’t be more grateful for his friends. Though he had the suspicion that Abigail would still have protected Prim even if it weren’t for him.
They sat for a refreshment at the Orangery, enjoying the establishment, and Leo noticed how well Prim responded to Abigail’s particular humor and how she endured Edwin’s intensity. It was familiar, it was weirdly domesticated and respectable. Leo was expecting his inner rake to revolt, but he found himself enjoying this.
“Let’s go back to the carriages,” Edwin said after a while. “Prim, you will ride with Abigail and me.”
“We will take my favorite path?” Abigail asked.
“You mean the long path,” Edwin raised his brow to her.
Abigail smiled, and Edwin tucked her to his side tenderly. Leo smiled. He knew exactly what was to be expected by his friends. They could easily forget the world around them when they looked at each other. So, Leo kept a slow pace, deliberately.
“Your Grace?” Prim asked softly. “May I ask something?”
“Of course. Within reason, of course.”
“Abigail said that when the sheet was first published, you spent time and money to stop it from circulating more.”
Leo felt his back straighten.
“Abigail had no business telling you that.”
“I was waiting for you,” Prim explained. “I was waiting for you, and when you didn’t show up, I thought that it was all a game for you.”
Leo looked ahead, his jaw tight. What did it say about him that he felt more comfortable being seen as a villain than a hero?
“I came to your house, furious. I insulted you. And you allowed it.”
“It was certainly more amusing to see you in anger than in gratitude,” Leo jested.
“You tried to warn me about your family, to protect me.”
This conversation was starting to make him uncomfortable. Leo suddenly opened his step.
“Just now, moments ago, you saw I didn’t want Abigail to come to my house, lest my family. embarrassed me and intervened.”
“That is an extensive list of a very particular accusation.”
“Do not tell me that the infamous Rake of the Unholy Duo has a heart and grows a conscience secretly.”
“I would deny both under duress. I do have a heart, it would be a medical miracle if I were heartless and still functioning. As for my conscience is store-bought, run-of-the-mill.”
“Still, I would know the truth,” Prim said and came to a halt.
Leo looked down at her, alarmed, and Prim leaned to him, climbed on her toes, and left a kiss on his cheek. For a few seconds, there was nothing in the world but the pressure of those soft lips on his cheek and the quiet offering of her gratitude.
But Leo was a greedy beast. Her little kiss might have disarmed others, but he awakened something primal in him. He moved fast, putting one arm around her waist, the other on her back, and he pushed her to the shadows of the thicket. Her back found a tree trunk, the impact softened by his arms as he caged.
“Was that a thank you, Miss P.J.?” He growled, his breath on her lips. “Let’s make it a proper one.”
Leo caught her upper lip with one slow lick of his tongue, and Prim gasped, her eyes finding his. He blinked slowly before focusing on attending to her lower lip. She felt her arms wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. A smile escaped him before he dove back to her.
“I am not going anywhere,” he murmured, as her fingers fisted the back of his coat.
He cradled her head with both hands and tilted her so that he could simply devour her. He moved, his thigh pressing between hers to keep her there. He leaned back to look upon her face. Perfect. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips already swollen, her look lost in a haze of need.
Up so close, in the shadows of the sun, he saw the little beauty mark she had on the left side of her upper lip. Like a little chocolate chip, forgotten, his to devour. He licked it, pulled it in, then moved to her mouth. He found her lips parted, eager, waiting. One swipe of his tongue against hers, and Prim moaned.
