Ellie’s eyes were gently lowering as he spoke. “We do well with negotiations,” she mumbled.
“It is not my preferred state when discussing sexual desires, though, so the next time you want to discuss such a thing, refrain from the wine,” Dorian added.
“Mhmhm,” Ellie hummed.
“And if you’re going to be clever and use distraction as your modus to get me to agree to your demands, you’d best be naked in my bed before you do so,” Dorian teased.
When she didn’t reply, he craned his head to her, only to sigh, “And you’re already asleep, aren’t you?”
The faint strains of dawn met Dorian awake and prepared. A rag was in cold water waiting for Ellie to wake, and so was a dram of laudanum ready if she needed it. His head swiveled to the side.
As she still slept, her cheeks were charmingly flushed, and her hair was a fan over his linen pillows. She was the very picture of wanton innocence.
In the soft light, her nightgown was nearly transparent. He swallowed as he took in the generous mounds of her breasts that would fill his hands if they did become intimate. Her softly rounded hips were made for a man’s hands to hold onto, and her slim legs were perfect to hoist over his shoulders.
Christ, she would tempt a saint—and he was no saint. He was a sex-starved husband who’d wanted her since he’d kidnapped her to his cabin months ago. His erection was thick beneath his soft trousers.
She’s soused. Get yourself under bloody control.
She began to stir, and Dorian rested his cup of coffee on the end table. Her lashes swept up, and then she instantly tightened. “Good god, what have I done?”
Sympathetically, he plucked the rag from the icy water, squeezed the liquid out, and then rested it on her forehead. “It will pass, sweetheart.”
She held the cloth to her head. “Wine is now the bane of my existence. I am not drinking a drop again.”
“I wouldn’t go so far,” Dorian replied, holding back a snort. “Moderation, dear.”
Puffing out a breath, she peeled an eye open. “I’m surprised you are still here with me.”
Drawing a leg up and resting his arm on his knees, Dorian quirked a brow. “You drank an entire bottle of Spanish wine last night. Where else would I be, Evelina?”
CHAPTER 19
Arosy streak crossed Ellie’s cheeks. “Oh heavens… I didn’t do anything so off-putting last night, did I?”
“Do you remember what you said?” He probed. “Anything at all?”
She bit a corner of her lip while she squinted, “I remember asking you about dinner. I’d waited for you to come, but you did not join me.”
His smirk was salacious, “There is still time for that, kitten.”
His comment flew over her head as she squeezed her eyes and sighed. “Is there a set of African drums banging around?”
“No, sweet one,” Dorian leaned over to kiss her cheek. “That’s your head. But don’t fear, I have a meal, medicine, and a refreshing bath waiting for you,” he smoothed his thumb over her cheekbone.
“Stay here and convalesce in my room. I’ll be in my study when you are ready to find me. In the meantime, I’ll have your maid see to you.”
Sliding from the bed, he donned a robe and left the room, heading for his study. He took the cup of coffee with him and requested a pot to be sent to him as he slid behind the desk.
A little while later, Baxter trundled in with the pot of coffee in one hand and a tray of letters in the other. “Good morning, Your Grace,” he said, while setting both down. “I hope you groveled appropriately enough to Her Grace last night, or this morning?”
Eyeing his butler flatly, Dorian's tone mirrored his look. “There was no groveling, court jester. I’d prefer to have my coffee without a dose of scolding.”
“Understood, Sir,” Kenneth replied, the hints of a smile wiped from his face—though he could not hide the humor in his eyes. “Her Grace’s aunt has sent a letter to her dear niece, as has Lady Victoria Rothwell.”
Curious, Dorian reached for both letters but actively refrained from tearing them open. If he wanted Evelina to trust him, he would leave her private correspondence private.
He plucked up a letter from Drake, knowing that Kenneth had seen his hesitation. “There’s been some good news, Kenneth. I met Harcourt last night, and the progression is promising.”
