“I still have a lot on my plate, Cotswell. I am not in a rush to tie myself down to the latest debutante.”
“Oh, really? Didn’t someone say that you were looking rather intently at Lady?—”
“Jonathan, I believe that you must think of your own plans for marriage before you think of Daniel’s,” Victoria suggested sweetly, batting her eyelashes humorously.
She had sensed her brother’s discomfort and had come to his rescue, but she had to admit she was also quite curious about his plans. Daniel gave her a grateful nod.
By midnight, the carriages rolled away. The house then began to descend into comfortable silence. Mrs. Hughes had taken over the care of Melody so that Richard and Victoria could rest.
“Let’s go to bed,” Richard murmured, and Victoria felt a shiver of anticipation.
She was about to enter her room when he pulled her away from it and toward this room. She raised an eyebrow, but followed. When he opened the door, she could not help but gasp.
The room had undergone a complete transformation, with dozens of candles lit by the windowpanes. The scent of roses filled the air, and petals even scattered on the rug below. A fire crackled in the hearth.
Richard closed the door behind them. He turned the lock, and she knew that tonight must be the night. He didn’t speak and simply scanned her from head to toe. She giggled self-consciously because she was still wearing his old clothes.
“You are one dashing rogue,” he teased, moving toward her and holding her by her forearms. “However, I think I’d rather see those clothes on the floor.”
They had done this before, but not like this—not with an end goal in mind. It was like a ceremony, done reverently and slowly. He had her step out of her boots and breeches, kicking them aside. Each layer took more of her breath. She did not know how she was still standing. But there she was, standing in nothing else but the thin linen of his old shirt. Even with the adjusted measurements, the fabric hung against her thighs.
“Richard,” she breathed.
Her pulse was racing, pounding against her throat. She wanted more, but she was frozen.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he asked, pulling her against his hard body. “When we were in the same bed, I hoped to have you, but had to stop. Then, when we separated rooms, I had to satisfy myself with the sound of silence. I wanted you, but I was too proud and scared to have you with me.”
He slowly and methodically removed his own clothes, the movement revealing the jagged scar near his lower rib. Eventhough he’d coughed and seemed to be in pain at the theater, he moved with focused, lithe grace.
“A-are you all right?” she asked tentatively.
“There’s still pain,” he admitted, “but nothing I can’t handle.”
He smiled then, as he lifted her to carry her to the bed. She watched how his jaw clenched, almost expecting him to stop, but he didn’t.
The night had become a slow revelation. With the silence of the rest of the house as their background, she wondered what other barriers they would cross.
Finally, Richard was ready to unwrap her very last layer, the shirt she wore with gallantry. He did it slowly. Slow and steady, with the linen sliding down her arms. Then, he lay her completely naked on the bed.
“Look at me, Victoria,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
She’d heard him like this before, but not with this pure intent. This need. She met his gaze without any shyness. She had never been shy as a girl. She would not begin to shirk away now. Anticipation trailed on her belly like fire. They both knew what was going to happen, and they were both willing now. No more reasons to escape.
Soon, he had stripped himself of his clothes. She marveled at the swift grace in that large, intimidating body. But for all his self-confidence, his hands trembled when his skin met hers. It was as if he were the one who needed to hide, as he buried his face in the curve of her neck.
“Victoria,” he whispered urgently into her ear.
She almost cried at the way he uttered her name like a prayer. She threaded her fingers into his thick hair.
“I am right here. I am not leaving. Don’t leave,” she begged.
His mouth landed on hers, then, and kissed her with a hunger she had not felt from him before. He explored her mouth with his tongue, and she lashed her own against his until both of them were gasping for air.
His exploration would not stop there, his mouth traveling down her throat to feel how fast her pulse was. Then, he dipped lower to the swell of her breast. Hungry for her, he took one pebbled tip into his mouth, suck hard, and then soothed with his swirling tongue. She whimpered, her back arching to feel more of his body. The sensations she felt shot through her core. She clenched around a void that she had wanted to fill for a long time now.
During their nights together, Richard had learned her body’s sensitive spots. He knew what would make her shiver and tremble, or make her core go slick and hot. He worshipped every part of her body as much as he could with his mouth andhands. Then, it was time to test her. His fingers trailed toward her center, which was already hot and wet for him. Desperate. He stroked her slit, first gently and teasingly until it became frenzied.
“Please,” she begged.
