Simon laughed. “I’d completely forgotten.” He sat and let his gaze roam over every inch of her body until she felt utterly scorched. “You know, I could just fetch us a couple of trays.”
“You’re only trying to stop me from getting dressed.”
“Of course,” he admitted without looking the least bit repentant.
Ida grinned. “I think it sounds like an excellent plan, as long as you promise you’ll be my dessert.”
His nostrils flared. “I’ll hold you to it,” he muttered. Another incredible kiss sealed the deal before he climbed off the bed and pulled on his shirt and trousers.
Once he’d left the room, Ida flopped back against her pillows with a smile. Considering his messy appearance, Miranda would surely know what was going on. Ida stared up at the ceiling and pondered that notion. Much to her surprise, she realized she didn’t care. All that mattered was what she and Simon could have together. It wouldn’t last, but it would be something for her to look back on with fondness. And that in itself meant it was worth all the heartache and pain that was sure to follow.
For now, however, in this moment, she wouldn’t think about any of that. Instead, she’d allow herself to enjoy each kiss and each touch while loving Simon with every piece of her heart.
Resting against a couple of pillows and with Ida nestled against his side, Simon listened to the soft sounds she made in her sleep. They’d enjoyed a full meal of roast chicken and mashed potatoes with diced carrots on the side, accompanied by a bottle of wine, before engaging in another round of spectacular lovemaking.
Simon ran his fingers carefully over the back of Ida’s head, gathering up the occasional strand of silky hair as he did so. He still couldn’t quite believe what had happened between them and vowed he would never let her regret the decision she’d made to become his mistress. True happiness – the sort that calmed the soul and made one’s heart sing – had always felt out of reach for him. But now he’d finally found it. With Ida.
She could never be his lawfully wedded wife – that position would regrettably have to belong to someone else – but she could be his friend, and his lover. And if she bore him children, he would acknowledge them as his own without shame.
Allowing his hand to wander along the length of her spine, he waited for her to stir before rolling her onto her back and pressing his mouth to hers. She kissed him back with slumberous movements and welcomed him into her arms.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” he murmured. “I just want you so damn much, Ida, I—”
“Shh…” She hooked her legs around his and drew him right up against her. “I want you too.”
His breath guttered with raw emotion. Pain mixed with pleasure cut through his heart as he met her clear gaze with his own. Unable to focus on what he was feeling, he surrendered to instinct and claimed her once more.
“You’re mine,” he insisted as she came apart in his arms for the third time that night. “You will never belong to anyone else.”
A gasp was her only response before he was swept away on his own rapturous wave and collapsed on the bed beside her. Sleep followed, so deep and thorough he scarcely registered the faint sound of knocking until he felt Ida move.
“What is it?” he murmured, his voice slurry to his own ears as he felt for her with his hand. His fingertips barely grazed her skin before she moved out of reach.
“I’m not sure. Let me check.”
Simon opened one eye and was very unhappy to see that she’d climbed out of bed, yet immensely glad of the view she allowed of her naked perfection.
To his disappointment, it was quickly covered by her robe. He closed his eyes and listened while Ida opened the bedchamber door and exchanged a few words with Miranda. Based on her urgent tone, the maid sounded distressed. Simon’s ears perked up. The words, “Hulking man…parlor…insists…see you,” had him sitting bolt upright within the next second.
“I have to get dressed,” Ida said. She began collecting her clothes.
Simon got out of bed and grabbed Ida’s arm, effectively halting her progress. “Who’s the visitor?”
“One of Guthrie’s men.” She pressed her lips together.
“And you want to meet him alone?” He stared at her in disbelief.
She sighed. “That was my plan, yes.”
“Out of the question.” After the night they’d just spent together, she would never be alone with another man ever again. “You stay here. I’ll go see what Whoeveritis wants.”
“Simon. I have to at least show my face.” She pulled her chemise over her head and began putting on her stays.
“Why?” She frowned while attempting to tie the garment. When she failed, he spun her around and did the job for her. “What difference can it possibly make whether—”
“Because it’s MacNeil.”
“Guthrie’s lieutenant?” Simon stared at Ida a moment, then scrambled to find his clothes. He knew of the brawny Scotsman. He was almost as famous as his employer and equally fearsome according to those who’d seen him. Good God. What if the man had come to threaten Ida in some way or haul her back to Guthrie’s house? No matter MacNeil’s purpose, Simon would do his best to protect her.
