Leah wound her legs around his thighs, her arms wound around his shoulders as he pumped his hips. The slick joining soon caused a friction that had her heart pounding anew. She wasn’t certain she could enjoy anything more than the wonder she’d just experienced, but she was learning that Harlan was a masterful lover, skilled in the carnal arts.
Faster, harder, soon it became too much to bear and as Leah’s body coiled and tightened with her second release, Harlan groaned and nipped lightly at the curve of her shoulder, finally giving a shout and a final thrust before he became still.
He collapsed on top of her, but Leah basked in the joy of his weight. He didn’t smother her or crush her. He just made her feel safe and comforted. She had never felt quite so whole in her entire life, like she had truly found where she belonged.
She sighed, feeling languid and slightly dizzy as he lifted his head to give her a light kiss on the lips. “How are you feeling?”
She smiled and said in a sleepy tone. “Divine.”
He chuckled huskily. “I do like the sound of that.” He gave her another kiss and then moved off of her.
He gathered her ruined shirt and wiped away the remnants of their lovemaking. “I shall have to get you something else to wear,” he noted.
She propped her head up on her elbow and allowed her eyes to gain their fill of his muscular form. “I would say that is a pity, but I should probably wear something proper to meet the queen,” she said dryly.
He lifted a coy brow. “Naturally. Although I suppose we could get you into the palace under the guise of a page boy—”
She grabbed her pillow and smacked him playfully with it. “I shall not agree to that!” She fell back against the bed and threw her arms out wide in a dramatic fashion. “Trousers might have been fine for a time, but I expect to be adorned in jewels and satins at the expense of the Home Office, since I will be acting as one of their agents.”
Harlan offered her a crooked grin, and with his brown hair in disarray, his hands placed on narrow hips and his manhood on full, unabashed display, he said, “I will personally ensure you are outfitted by the finest modistes on Bond Street.”
“How gracious of you,” she noted in a teasing mein. “Although I doubt it will be as fashionable as Paris gowns, I’m sure I can readjust to staid, London fashion.”
That got his attention. He nearly pounced on her, pinning her arms neatly above her head as he crouched above her. “I certainly hope that you are referring to clothing and nothing else. At least, I should hope that you aren’t daring to claim that all English are staid by comparison. If so, I shall have to take high offense to that.”
He bent down and captured one of her nipples between his neat even teeth. Then he took it into his mouth and sucked hard. Her hips jerked and she gasped as a rush of heat slid across her skin.
She decided to play his game. “I wouldn’t dream of accusing you of being staid, Mr. Mathis. You were a highwayman, after all. The romantic sort of bandit like Dick Turpin, knowing full well how to charm and ravish women to steal their belongings.” She lifted a brow. “Among other things.”
“Ah, so I’vestolenyour virtue, have I?” He lifted a brow. “I believe you are incorrect on that score, for I vividly recall you offering it to me freely. And quite eagerly, in fact.”
She lifted her chin in a haughty manner. “You, sir, are no gentleman.”
The hooded look in his gaze caused her breath to freeze momentarily in her chest, before the flames of passion flared to life. “If you were hoping for a duke, I shall have to disappoint you. I’m far too ruthless for a distinguished title.” He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “But I promise that I will ravish you like a true highwayman.”
Leah lifted her hips and teased his cock, which was already starting to swell with renewed vigor. “I certainly hope so.”
Chapter 19
In Leah’s experience, happiness could be as fleeting as pleasure for some. And yet, when she awoke the next morning, she couldn’t seem to stop smiling about her experiences with Harlan the night before.
The things they had done in this bed made her cheeks burn, a pink tinge flowing over her skin, but she wouldn’t change a single moment of it.
As she had not a stitch of clothing to her name, Harlan left a robe out for her use while he went to procure something for her to wear so she might make a modest appearance at the dressmaker’s—and possibly a visit with a war hero.
She was sitting in a chair in the main rooms when he returned with several wrapped packages. He wasn’t alone. Matthew and Lucas entered the room after him, their arms also heavily laden. Her eyes instantly widened. “My goodness. Did you buy outallof Bond Street?”
As they made a pile on the settee, Lucas was the one who replied delicately, “Ladies require lots of… accessories.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and glanced at Matthew, who merely chuckled. “We had to ensure you were outfitted properly if you were to step out into London society as the queen’s companion whether it is a fabricated truth or not. Either way you will be highly scrutinized.”
She glanced at Harlan. “I can see you took me at my word.” She got up and started to unwrap all of the fabulous gifts with an eagerness she hadn’t expected to feel. It wasn’t as though her father had showered her with lavish luxuries, because travel was quite expensive. However, he did offer her a special treat now and then that she appreciated greatly.
Sadly, a single valise that remained at her brother’s house was all she had left of those days, as most of her things had been sold off to pay for passage to England after her aunt’s death. She had mourned the loss at first, but then she’d reminded herself that they were monetary items and they could not strip her memories away so easily and cruelly.
The first thing Leah opened was a silver gown with small, red roses embroidered throughout the fabric. “It’s lovely,” she breathed. Holding it up to herself, she swung in a circle and admired the way the fabric whispered against her.
“Lucas selected most of the gowns,” Matthew noted. “He has recently studied everything from ladies’ fashions to proper comportment in a royal London household, but Harlan selected that one specifically foryou, and not because of the role you are about to play.”
“Did he?” She smiled at Harlan, who remained oddly silent, arms crossed over his chest. She wondered if he was displeased about something, but perhaps he was still pondering the assassin who remained a real threat.
