“Mmm hmm.”
He scooped her into his arms, cradling her, and slowly lowered her into the tall tub. She sighed as the steamy water slid over her skin.
He handed her the waxy bar of soap and she dunked it, then rubbed it in both hands, creating a plethora of bubbles along the steamy surface. She breathed in the lavender scent and relaxed back into the deep, heated bath. “Did you have this tub specially designed for two people?”
“Yes.”
She blinked. She’d been jesting because the tub was so large, but it stood to reason.
“Then why aren’t you in here with me?” She gave him a sultry look.
“With pleasure.” He climbed in without a hint of embarrassment at his total nudity. She took her time watching his perfect body move. He slid in across from her, then pulled her atop him. They were both facing the overhead. He stroked her shoulders, her neck, her breasts. He worked both nipples with his thumbs and forefingers until she was mindless with wanting him again. She squirmed against him. The soap bobbed along the surface of the water, forgotten. “I want you,” she whispered, this time in English.
“In due time,” he whispered, her breasts cupped in his large hands. One of his hands moved down between her legs and he found the nub between her thighs once again.
She nearly arced out of the water. His one hand continued to tug and torment her nipple, the other rubbed that spot of pleasure. Her hand clenched his upper leg beneath hers. Her thighs fell open on either side of his legs and he pushed out his knees to widen them. She moaned. He kept up his gentle assault on that perfect spot in her cleft until she clenched her jaw. “Remember, you can’t scream,” he whispered in her ear, teasing her unmercifully.
It was a fight to keep her mouth closed. When she finally came, Danielle closed her eyes, arched off him nearly out of the water, and moaned loud and long. Her body was still deliciously shivering when he flipped her over as if she weighed no more than a doll, positioned himself with one hand, and let her drop onto him.
The long slide of him inside her made her moan again. She’d never imagined anything like this before. The steamy water and the soap bubbles, their wet skin sliding against each other, and now this. Cade’s wide hands moved down to her hips and he guided her movements. He pulled her up, to slide up his length, then pushed her down, showing her exactly how he wanted her to move. He braced his hands on the sides of the deep tub and let her take over. His face was a mask of pure ecstasy.
The cords in his neck went tight. “God, Danielle, you feel so good,” he murmured. His eyes weren’t closed. On the contrary, they remained quite open, watching her breasts bounce as she slid up and down him. Watching the look on her face as she took him fully into her body. Watching her set a rhythm she enjoyed.
The second time she came, it was underwater and Cade held her while she muffled her screams against his shoulder. He pumped into her again and again and again until he clenched his jaw and pulled out, spending his seed in the water and groaning.
He held her against him, panting, his heart pounding madly until his breathing was right again. Then he cradled her in his arms, stepped out of the tub, set her on the edge of the bed, and used the towel to dry her off before drying himself. He pulled back the covers and laid her down. Then he climbed in next to her, pulled the covers over both of them, and clasped her against his chest.
Danielle lay there, not daring to breathe for what felt like hours, but was likely only mere minutes. She’d expected him to ask if she wanted to sleep in the bed with him. That would only be polite. But carry her over, dry her off, and cuddle up to her? It was nearly beyond belief. Was this the same Cade Cavendish whom she’d met in London? The same man who had gorgeous women chasing him on Bond Street and, according to Lady Daphne, lying naked in what they thought was his bed after hunting him down?
She continued to hold her breath for fear that this figment of her imagination would disappear. Then another disconcerting thing happened. He began to run his fingers through her hair, combing it. He leaned down to her bare neck and breathed in deeply. “I’ll never tire of the scent of lavender.”
He’d never tire of—
She didn’t have time to even finish that thought before he said, “Can I ask you some things?”
The question made her stomach churn but she promised herself to answer honestly. “Of course.” Things were different now, regardless of whether she wanted them to be. It was both a frightening and a comforting thought.
“Are you really French?” he asked.
She laughed at that. “Oui. Half French. As I told you.”
“Is your mother really sick?”
Her nostrils flared. “I would never lie about that. She’s quite sick. Grimaldi’s promised to pay me enough to allow me my cottage by the sea after this mission.”
“That sounds like Grimaldi. Blackmail and holding things above other people’s heads.”
She turned to lie on her back. Cade’s arm was still wrapped over her waist. “He knows how to get what he wants. He’s helped me immeasurably. I cannot fault him.”
“How has he helped you?” Cade asked.
“He saved my mother’s life.” She shook her head, not wanting to continue this part of the conversation. “That was a long time ago.”
“What did he do?”
She should have expected he’d want to know more. Could she face these memories while she was so raw and emotional from his lovemaking? She would try. “My father was murdered when I was young. My mother was sent to gaol for the crime.”
Cade took a breath to speak.
