Thomas jogged over to her, took her hand, and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. Then he tugged her gently behind him as he led her toward the picnic arrangements.
He waited until she was settled upon the quilt, her skirts billowing out around her, before he took a seat beside her. He discarded his coat and hat before he began serving her the cheese, bread, grapes, olives, and slices of meat that were spread out before them. Delilah removed her bonnet too. Then she slipped off her shoes and rubbed her stockinged feet along the pillowy softness of the quilt. It felt completely decadent, and she adored it.
Thomas grinned at her and handed her a full plate. She ate tentatively at first. But then she realized she was in the company of the person she’d always felt the most at ease with, and that hadn’t changed, despite the mistake she’d made with the elixir.
They spent the next hour talking and laughing about all manner of things just as they always had, and Delilah was able to forget for a while that she had caused a significant change between them.
Setting her empty plate aside, she leaned back and braced her arms behind her, palms down. She closed her eyes and tilted back her head to allow the sunlight to bathe her face. “It’s so lovely being with someone who isn’t constantly criticizing me.”
Thomas was silent until Delilah finally raised her head and looked at him. His jaw was tightly clenched, and anger lined his features. “Your mother struck you, didn’t she?”
Delilah tilted her head back again, suddenly self-conscious about her cheek that was still slightly bruised.
“Tell me the truth, Delilah.” His voice was a low growl.
“I shouldn’t have been in that play. I knew it would make her angry.”
Thomas cursed under his breath. “Damn it, Delilah.Stop making excuses for her. She had no right to strike you, no matter what you did. And while we’re on the subject, I cannot fathom why she would discard my suit so quickly in favor of Clarence Hilton, of all people. At the risk of sounding like a braggart, Imustbe more eligible than he is.”
Delilah sat up straight again and plucked one of the pink roses from the side of the blanket. She twirled the thornless stem between her fingers. “I wondered about it too,” she admitted. “Mother must hold a grudge against you from when we were children. Perhaps the pebbles on the window were more vexing than we thought.” She tried to smile, but Thomas did not join her.
“It makes little sense,” he replied. “I hate to say it, but my guess is that she’s doing it purely to spite you.”
Delilah blinked. “Surely not—”
“I can think of no other explanation. Can you?”
Delilah lifted the rose to her lips and inhaled its light fragrance. “As I told Lucy, perhaps she doesn’t want to disappoint Lord Hilton. He is her fiancénow, you know.”
A look of mild disgust crossed Thomas’s features. “You give her more credit than I do.”
Wanting to change the difficult subject, Delilah moved closer to him and grabbed his hat from the quilt beside him. She placed it atop her head and pulled it down to cover her eyes then tilted up her chin to give him a coquettish stare. “How do I look? Like a snobbish duke?”
Thomas laughed and leaned over to snatch the hat from her head, but Delilah lunged backward and he followed, toppling over onto her.
Catching her breath, she glanced up into his face. It immediately turned serious. The hat had rolled away from her head, and Thomas braced both of his forearmson either side of her shoulders, searching her face intently.
Her heart pounding madly, Delilah reached up to pull him down atop her more fully. She wanted to feel every inch of his hard body against hers. His mouth swooped down to capture hers, and she threaded her fingers through his hair, clutching him against her.
“Delilah,” he breathed against her mouth.
She lifted her chin again, and he kissed her throat and her neck before moving lower to her décolletage. He showered kisses along the tender flesh above her bodice, and his hand came up to rub against her breast on the outside of her gown.
“Can I touch you here, Delilah?” he asked. “With my mouth?”
Heat exploded between her legs, and she nodded eagerly. “Yes,” she breathed.
He gently tugged down her bodice, and his lips moved to cover one nipple, gradually sucking it into his mouth. His tongue lavished the tip, and she sobbed in the back of her throat. It felt so good. So amazingly good. And shameless wanton that she was, she didn’t want him to stop.
Her hands clutched his shoulders, and her legs moved fitfully against the soft blanket. It was a dream come true. She was lying in the sunlight, surrounded by pink roses, while the man of her dreams made love to her.
She moved her hand down to touch the outline of his manhood beneath his breeches, and Thomas swiveled his hips away. He pulled his mouth from her breast and pressed his forehead hard against hers, giving a shaky laugh.
“Why won’t you let me touch you?” she asked, disappointment lacing her words.
“Love, I’d like nothing more, but this is for you.” He gingerly wiped a curl from her forehead, before reclaiming her lips in another captivating kiss.
Minutes later, Thomas gently pulled up her bodice and rolled away from her. “We must stop before we get carried away.”
