“Roland,” she said, greeting the austere butler with a gracious smile and a nod of her head. A twinkle in the back of her eyes, saved for Nathanial, was the only thing that marred her presentation of a great lady, and he knew no one else would notice.
If only his mother could see her now.
“You’ve seen the house plenty of times before,” he said as he led her into the hallway. “I won’t bore you with a tour.” At least, not of the downstairs.
There was plenty upstairs he wished to show her.
She looked around, at the arching ceiling and the paintings on the walls. “I’d forgotten how grand it is.”
“Do you like it?” The words were almost involuntary, falling from his lips before he’d realised they had formed.
“How could I not?”
He had fully intended on being a gentleman and allowing her to accustom herself to the house and her responsibilities before making any advances, but the artless way she said it, as though it was inconceivable that she wouldnotlike his ancestral home, snapped something in him. He scooped her into his arms, ignoring the slight ache in his shoulder.
“Nathanial?” Theo wrapped an arm around his neck, a breathy laugh escaping her. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you to the only part of the house you have yet to visit.”
Her eyes, molten in the light, widened. “Oh.”
“I made you a promise,” he told her as he mounted the stairs, “that one day I would show you how difficult it has been to wait.”
“Oh.”
“I am a man of my word, Theo.”
The arm around his neck tightened, and she exhaled a long, shuddering breath against his throat. “I would not have you any other way,” she said, and the huskiness in her voice spurred him on.
But when she started pressing tiny kisses to the side of his neck, pulling his cravat out of the way so she could have better access, he came to a stop. “I do not have infinite patience,” he said, though his words sounded more like a grunt.
“You have tried mine for entirely too long,” she murmured, kissing up to his ear and the sensitive skin there. This was tenderness in its purest form, combined with a sensuality that tempted him to give up on reaching his bed. He let her down for a moment before picking her up again, this time so she could hitch her skirts up and wrap her legs around him.
The bed was categorically not necessary.
She made a pleased sound in her throat at the way he caught her mouth with his, kissing her until the gallery around them swam and he couldn’t breathe. Or perhaps he’d forgotten—breathing hardly seemed a priority when her lips were so soft and her hands clung to him.
“Nathanial,” she panted, breaking away. “Here?”
“We may as well give my ancestors something to frown over.”
“Nathanial.”
“This house is ours and we may do what we like in it.” He paused and looked down into her flushed face. She’d never looked lovelier than she did now, in his arms with flared pupils and a voice that quivered with desire.
He wanted to take her here. He wanted to push her skirts up around her thighs and bury himself inside her. He wanted his name to be on her lips.
But she deserved better; for him to take his time as he claimed her.
Mine.
It was primal, this need to have her as his own, just as urgent as his need to offer her the last part of his heart.
“I love you,” he said roughly, and carried her the rest of the way to his bedroom.
Nathanial’s bedroom was large and spacious, with a gilded mirror hanging above the fireplace and chintz chairs around a walnut table in the corner. However, Theo did not spare them more than a passing glance. The only thing that occupied her attention was the bed. The mattress was as wide as it was long, and the decorated roof was so high she couldn’t see the detail close enough to appreciate it fully.
Not that she had much opportunity as Nathanial laid her down, wincing slightly as his shoulder pained him, and pressed kisses across her jaw. Her legs were still wrapped around his waist, and she wondered if there was a way to remove her clothes without painstakingly undoing all the tiny buttons down the back.
