A temptation more deadly than the gaming tables.
Louisa had neverbeen charmed by a man’s skittishness before.
And to think, she didn’t have an explosive device in her hand this time.
Holding back a smile that would further unnerve her fretful husband, she murmured token bits of nonsense as he described the sad state of the quite-lovely gardens as they strolled through them. It was true, the townhouse wasn’t grand, but it stood in Marylebone, a neighborhood close enough to Mayfair to be fashionable. Yet not so close as to mark them as social aspirants—which they weren’t. Dust hazed the windowpanes and the carpets were threadbare, a draft from a cracked window in the entranceway teased the hallways, and the banister leaned a fraction when touched, but the bones were solid. To her mind, charm had risen above neglect.
Considering his restlessness, she was afraid to tell Dominic she’d loved it at first sight.
A crystal doorknob in the parlor had caught the light when she entered, scattering tiny rainbows across her slippers. In the music room, a casement window framed the sky so perfectly it might have been painted there. Even now, the faint sound of a fountain trickled from somewhere close, steady and soothing.
Actually, what she was afraid to tell Dominic is that she’d lovedhimat first sight.
The man and the home needed care, that was all.
And when he’d trailed his knuckle along the book’s worn spine, she’d felt the same pulse as the day in the warehouse racing betweenher thighs. Sighing softly, Louisa wondered how long they were going to tour the manor before finding a bedchamber.
Any bedchamber.
She didn’t need wooing; she neededhim.
In silence, they followed the winding path to a small cottage tucked at the back of the property, its stone walls half-lost beneath ivy. The narrow door creaked open when she turned the knob to reveal a shadowed interior. Before she could look inside, Dominic gently brushed past her, sending awareness shimmering like mist around them, a low thrum of recognition she had no intention of disguising.
Did he understand what he did to her?
Likely not, and the thought further melted her heart.
Unaware, Dominic turned in the doorway, holding up his hands and counting off on those long, gorgeous fingers. “Before you go in, know that this is only temporary if it doesn’t suit,” he said quickly. “It’s been vacant for months, but it’s not attached to the house in case of chemical mishaps or…” His lips sliding into a sluggish grin, his explanation died away.
Louisa laughed, pressing a palm lightly to his chest to nudge him aside, and slipped into the room. Her ring glittered upon her finger, the emerald a warm, wonderful reminder.
Lips parting, she stopped short. Glass retorts and flasks, a copper alembic glinting on the bench, rows of vials she recognized as her own. The air was steeped in the sharp tang of sulfur and the briny bite of saltpeter, scents so familiar they wrapped around her like home. Her experiments—her oddities—here.
He hadn’t just made space for them. He’d made space for her. In his life, in this place that was to be their home.
Dominic stepped around her, going to the narrow shelf holding a jumble of powders in mismatched jars, each marked in her own hurried scrawl, his thick lashes lowering to hide his eyes. “I want to please you, but I don’t know much about this husband business. You’llhave to be patient. Only know that I’m trying.”
Oh,she thought, gaze roaming the first true laboratory she’d ever had.I do love him.
It was then she heard the gentle snore of a gray-and-black dog, curled in the corner, fast asleep.
“He comes with it.” Dominic cast an amused glance at the stray pup. “I searched for his owner, but no one claimed him. Anyway, he didn’t want to leave. So I gave him a bath and named him Rocket. It seemed appropriate.”
“I have a husband and a dog,” she said with wonder, tears stinging her eyes.
Turning to lean his hip on the workbench, his lips tilted in a cautious smile. The loose sunlight pouring in the window picked out the gilded threads in his stormy blue eyes. “So it seems.”
Gratitude surged, wild and unstoppable. Dominic Beckett wasn’t asking her to change, and he wasn’t hiding behind, well, anything. Louisa crossed the space and rose to him,thank-youspilling from her lips to his before the words dissolved into a kiss, tender at first, then urgent.
Fisting his hand in her hair, his mouth seized hers with rough yearning as he urged her back against the stone wall. “Finally,” he whispered, giving up his hushed struggle and letting passion consume them.
Heart hammering, his body anchoring her in place, she clung to his hips, pulling him closer. The moment broke only when he tore his mouth from hers to grasp her arm, tugging her back through the doorway. “Not here, Lou.”
With ready eagerness, they stumbled down the gravel path, his stride urgent, her skirts tangling around her legs to keep up until he halted to catch her mouth again, devouring her with an embrace that stole reason. Hair tumbling loose as pins scattered, she caught his hand before he could stoop to gather them, urging him on with a naughtygrin that gave him no choice but to follow.
On the staircase, he caught her against the shaky banister, fumbling at the ties of her gown as she tugged at his cravat. She pressed her lips to his jaw, his throat, reaching until he cursed softly, tearing himself free just long enough to half-drag, half-carry her upward. By the time they reached the bedchamber, her bodice hung loose and her slippers were long gone, his shirt was askew, waistcoat wrinkled, buttons half-slipped free—both of them dizzy with laughter and the sharp edge of desire.
“I want,” she gasped, taking her last lucid moment to observe a beautiful rose and cream bedchamber, the coverlet turned down, hearth lit, a room that, unlike the rest of the house, had been readied for them.
