He came to the first chair and shoved it aside. The next two, he scooted out of the way with his leg. He was cutting a determined line to her, and she was distracted from her question. She laughed, spun on her heel, and scrambled deeper into the room.
“Lachlan, this is madness,” she sang. “What’s gotten into you?”
“You, Miss Trelayne,you’vegotten into me. You’re... perfect. With the girls. With my sister. I’ve never seen anything like it. You said and did everything exactly, perfectly right. I shudder to think what our lives would be like if you’d not come to us.” He lunged for her but she darted into a sliver of space between two tables, too thin for him to fit.
“Oh yes,” she sighed, “my proficiency with the twins.” She was trapped on one side by the wall and on the other byhim, hovering at the edge of the tables. She hitched up her skirts and put a knee up, climbing on top. Reaching out, she scrambled across the table on her hands and knees.
What is happening?she thought, elated by his attention, burning for his touch.I’m climbing over furniture in Kew Palace like a squirrel.
But this is why we never speak, she told herself, eyeing the edge of the table.We are always either making love or minding his family.
Was this the rapport of a proper marriage? Was this all—
“Now, now Miss Trelayne,” said Lachlan, meeting her at the edge of the table. She tried to reverse, but he fastenedhis hands around her waist and snatched her up. “Did you really think you could escape?”
“Lachlan,” she gasped, “we cannot. Surely.”
“I hate it when you call me Lachlan,” he growled, hauling her across the room.
“It’s your name.” She began biting off her gloves.
“No, it’s my title. Mygivennameis Ian. As I’ve told you.”
“We’re not... we’re not well enough acquainted for me to call you Ian.”
“Not well acquainted?” he mused. He set her back to the wall and fell against her. “Pray, madam, let me introduce myself.”
He kissed her then, hard and deep, no preamble; the heated kiss of wild lovemaking, not the gentle urgings of a seduction.
He slid his hands over her bodice, up her neck to cradle the sides of her face. The feathers of her hat tickled the top of his head, and he flicked at it.
“No, no, no,” she gasped between kisses, “you mustn’t disturb my hat. I could not be more serious, Lachlan. Do what you will to me, just do it quickly and do not touch my hat or my hair or irrevocably damage my dress. Is this possible?”
“Yes,” he panted, crowding her back. She flattened against the wall in a rustle of silk and he pressed against her, using the leverage to kiss her properly, nearly kissing the breath from her. Drew stopped herself just short of moaning in pleasured delight.
“Legs up,” he rasped, reaching down to grab handfuls of her skirt and dragging it up. His hands palmed her bottom next, the hem of her dress bunched between his arms and her waist.
“You’re joking,” she said, staring at him. A feather from her hat molted downward, hanging between their faces. She blew it out of the way.
“No joke,” he grunted, “up you go.” He ground his hardness into her and she whimpered.
“You’re not strong enough.”
“Never,” he growled, kissing her, “say that to me again. It’s an insult to my strength.” Another kiss. “And is patently untrue.”
With a grunt he lifted her off the ground. “Legs,” he rasped, and Drew wrapped her legs around his haunches. He leaned in, sealing her against the wall, and the weight of his body pressed his erection against her core. Drew cried out at the immediate jolt of pleasure.
“Shhh,” he urged, laughing. “We are in an occupied palace, Miss Trelayne. You mustn’t cry out.”
“This was your idea,” she said into his neck, anchoring her arms around his shoulders. Now her hat splayed a pouf of feathers directly in his face. He made a spitting noise.
“Mindthe hat, please,” she said, half plea, half moan.
“Hold still,” he rasped, releasing her with one hand to unbutton the fall of his trousers and tug aside her drawers.
His jaw, gritted now with exertion, was just beside her mouth, and she stuck out her tongue and licked it. He growled and she moved closer, kissing her way up the side of his face. She felt bold, and she liked it. He was in charge and she liked it; but she was learning that two could play this game, and she liked that too.
“Your Grace,” she whispered into his ear, lifting her legs higher. He growled again.
