“Davina,” Kit said, his voice honey smooth. “We’ve put your trunk in this one.” He gestured toward the room second from the end of the worn but clean hall. He pressed the key into my hand.
“Where is everyone else?”
“I’m on the end there, and Rory is next to you, with Alfie beside her.”
“Aye, I’m excited to not be kicked in the shin every time I snore,” Alife added with a grin.
“Are you ready to retire? Do you need me to see if they have a lady’s maid?” Kit asked.
“I think I will retire. But I don’t need a maid.”
If he knew why I had no need of a maid, the understanding didn’t cross his expression. Instead, he offered a nod as he re-plucked the key he had just placed in my hand and turned it in the lock. His hand was distractingly large as he pressed the walnut door open, the knuckles barely reddened from his fisticuffs earlier. Those fingers, surprisingly long and elegant, had been inside me. They had driven me to ecstasy in a wayI’d never known, in a way I was certain I would never be able to replicate. I was possessed with the sudden desperate desire to see those hands against my skin. Feeling them beneath my skirts, it wasn’t enough. I needed the sight.
As if he knew where my thoughts lay, he cleared his throat. His other hand caught my lower back, urging me into the room. The heat of him spanned the entire width of my back and his fingertips stretched from the divots at the base of my spine all the way beneath my rib cage. Had they always been so large? Or was my newfound appreciation for their talents changing my perception?
Behind me, Alfie muttered something about returning downstairs if we were going to flirt with each other until sunup.
“Good night, Davina,” Kit murmured, warning in his tone, when I resisted his urging hand at the threshold.
“Christopher,” I teased back.
“I’ll send a maid up,” he retorted. I spun to face him with an eye roll. “Menace.” A smile spread across his lips as he said it.
Far from a reprimand, it had become his term of endearment. There was always a little gravel in the way he said it, and I felt that sound low in my belly. It was the sweetest—and most sensual—endearment I could imagine. And nearly daily, I listened to Will’s drawl of “love” after every sentence he spoke to or about Celine.
I pressed up onto my toes, offering Kit a kiss intended to entice. It was a calculated thing, but immeasurably pleasurable. I worked his lips with mine and pulled back when his tongue brushed the swell of mine. His lips followed, catching mine once, twice, a third time before pulling away. There was fire in his burnt-umber eyes.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he rumbled.
“I’m sure you will.” I allowed the mischievous smile to bloom.
“Go to bed, Davina.”
I slipped past him, peering around the edge of the door as I slid it shut. His gaze was heated as it clashed with mine. The latch echoed in the quiet room. Between the base of the door and the floorboard, a sliver of light spilled in, interrupted by the unmistakable form of two feet. I waited, wondering if he would truly leave.
“Lock the door,” he added through the wood barrier.
I sighed, loudly so he wouldn’t miss the effect, and turned the key. When the feet finally disappeared and I could no longer hear footsteps in the hall, I turned to survey the room.
It was small, and well worn, but clean. The fire burned warm in the hearth on one side. My truck was tucked neatly against the opposite wall. There was a large green rug covering the floor, and it had seen a few too many days but had been beaten recently. The bed looked large and comfortable enough, with two pillows and a grey quilt atop it.
Too bad it wouldn’t be slept in.
I turned to my trunk, knowing what I was looking for.
I’d slept in my chemise for too many days, too exhausted or unable to change. But I’d packed precisely one nightgown. It wasn’t anything fancy, not like the daring cut of the French silk and lace negligee I’d seen in Celine’s wardrobe. But it was nicer than the practical, serviceable underthings I’d brought. And I’d always loved the way I felt in it, elegant and sensual.
I set it out on the bed, then moved to find my brush and a few other necessities.
Before Sally knocked, announcing herself, I had my hair undone and brushed, and had washed my face. She unbuttoned my dress and undid my corset with practiced efficiency. “Thank you, Sally. I can manage from here.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am. If it’s not too bold to say… If I had a husband like yours, I wouldn’t insist on separate bedrooms.”
“A stickler for propriety, that one,” I said by way of an explanation. “Don’t worry, we’ve only been married a short while. I’ll have him stripped of those habits in short order.”
“Oh good. It would be a travesty to have a man who looks likethat, and so noble too, and not take full advantage.”
“Thank you, Sally. That will be all,” I bit out.
