Lorelei must be heartsick at not having Nathan in her house. That was the source of Maeve’s guilt.
Since the wedding, Maeve and Brandon had been working in the less formal parlor on Alymer’s scripts. The snow had finally come to a stop, and the entire household was suffering from confinement. If the sun was out tomorrow, Maeve would take the children to the park. Right now, however, as undignified as it was, she sat on the floor in front of the fire with a sleepy Nathan in her lap. His back rested against her stomach and her arms wrapped his small body. She leaned down and put her lips atop his light-blond hair and breathed in the sweet smell of him. He jerked his head up and met her eyes with his thumb tucked securely in his mouth. “You’re tired, my darling, aren’t you?”
His thumb plopped out and he twisted around, holding up his arms.
Maeve took him in her arms, and his legs hugged her waist. He laid his head on her shoulder, taking up his thumb again.
“Shall I whisk him up to bed, milady?” Molly spoke from the corner where she’d been quietly reading.
Maeve looked down at his half closed eyes. “Let’s give him a few more minutes, Molly.”
“Yes, milady.”
Maeve glanced over at Harlowe. His pencil flew over the sketch pad in his lap. She turned her attention to the fire and watched the flames cackle and hiss. She rocked Nathan in small motions, barely moving. “The workmen are scheduled to begin enclosing the open salon area on the third floor in a few days,” she said. The floor-to-ceiling windows were perfect for Harlowe to work with so much natural light.
“Why enclose it at all?”
Maeve turned and met Molly’s grin with her own, complete understanding passing between the two. “Because of curious toddlers. We must be able to lock the door. I’ll admit I’m the last to understand the chemicals that go into paint, but I did attend art classes at Miss Greenley’s Comportment School for Young Girls. The smell of chemicals were horrendous.”
His head lifted and the heat in his gaze turned her insides to absolute mush. She was nothing but an idiotic female. She might as well have just been turned out from Miss Greenley’s school.
“Order a couch for the room as well.”
“What on earth for?” she asked.
He didn’t answer, just pierced her with that look in his eye that set her entire body aflame. Maeve stole a glance at Molly. Her head was down, and she clearly trying to suppress a smile.
She glanced down. Nathan’s eyes had drifted closed. “Molly, I believe Nathan is indeed ready for bed,” she said.
“Yes, milady.”
Maeve touched her lips to the baby’s forehead and handed him up.
Harlowe set his pad aside. “Why do you sit on the floor?” He rose and sauntered over to Maeve and held out his hand.
Maeve didn’t want him laying a finger on her. She lost all common sense when he came within smelling distance, let alone touching. They were in the parlor where anyone could walk in on them, but there was no polite way to refuse his assistance, and after a short hesitation, she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “Nathan is curious about the fire. By sitting nearby, he can indulge his curiosity, and I can keep him safe.”
He dipped his head and kissed her. The same dizzying sensation she’d felt the first time he’d whipped her beneath him that day a few weeks back swept over her. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the fiery desire that surged through her at his firm, confident hold. It was too disconcerting. His lips left a blazing trail to the column of her neck, and he bit down lightly, startling a squeal out of her.
“Shush.” His breath seared her skin. He lowered her gown and kissed the top of her shoulder. He pushed it farther down, releasing her breast, and took a pebbled peak in his mouth.
“Brandon?”
He backed them to the chair he’d vacated. He sat, his mouth leaving her breast. The cool air hit her damp, hard nipple. He brought her forward. Tugging her dress up, he urged her left knee up on one side of him, then the right on his other side. With deft fingers, her dress was loosened, and he had it over her head before she could blink. Her corset was short work for all his blasted worldly practice.
His mouth covered her breast once again, then moved quickly to the other. “Delicious.”
One hand slid to her inner thigh, and she shuddered. She watched with helpless desire as he fumbled with his placket and pulled himself free. She sank down slowly on the velvet steel of his erection, moaning with mounting anticipation. His hands gripped her hips, and his breath hitched. His reaction was its own aphrodisiac as her mindless body took over, moving up and back down, teasing him with what little arsenal she had.
His lips touched her chest between her breasts. Such a light brush should not have sent a volcanic rush of fire through her blood, yet it did.
She closed her eyes. “I can see the stars.”
“Reach for them, darling. Let go and fly,” he whispered against her.
She clenched around him, and he lost control, jerking her down then up until the stars exploded in a kaleidoscope of fireworks worthy of Vauxhall. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly through the last of the convulsions.
“God, you are going to kill me,” he said. She clung to him until his body’s quivering subsided.
