“I love you too,” she managed, right before he crushed her mouth with his in a searing kiss that threatened to set her on fire.
25
Standing in the middle of the bedchamber she would be sharing with Brody from this day on, Harriet watched her husband pour two glasses of port. The wedding had been a lovely affair. She’d been thrilled to see all her friends from Hudson & Co. at the church. Mr. Hudson had even handed her a gift before she and Brody stepped into their awaiting carriage. It was a beautiful print containing the date, time, and place of their wedding, beneath which all of her colleagues had posted a message.
“Did the day meet your expectations?” Brody asked as he handed her one of the glasses.
“I think it exceeded them.” She clinked her glass against his before taking a sip. “Your mother is an incredible planner.”
He chuckled and took a drink. “I know she exasperated you at times.”
“Perhaps a little,” Harriet agreed. “But it also made her very happy, and you have to admit it was all rather perfect.”
“It’s not over yet,” he murmured, his voice dipping as he traced her shoulder and arm with his fingers. Flames slowly ignited within the depth of his piercing blue gaze as he took a step closer. “The best part’s yet to come.”
“Oh?” was all she could manage, and even then it was barely more than a whisper.
“Finish your port, Harriet.” He caught her gaze while raising his glass to his lips, and held it as they both drank. The air between them, so calm a few moments before, now crackled with anticipation. He collected her glass and set it aside along with his own. “Nervous?”
“Somewhat.”
Tilting his head, he appeared to give that some thought. A wolfish gleam appeared in his eyes. He caught her hand and led her across the room until they reached a wall. Nudging her backward, he pressed her against it, then leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered while kissing his way along the edge of her jaw, “and pretend we’re back in the library, picking up where we left off. You weren’t nervous then.”
“I wasn’t myself.”
“Not true.” His hands gripped her waist, his thumbs stroking her sides while his teeth nipped her earlobe. “You’re the same uninhibited person as you were then.”
“Brody…”
His hand slid upward, slowly exploring while she melted against the wall behind her. She sagged in response to his touch and sucked in a breath when his thumb swept inside her bodice. “By tomorrow, I will have tasted you everywhere, Harriet. I’ll have kissed you here…here…and finally here.”
She gasped at the shocking suggestion. “You can’t possibly—”
“Trust me,” he purred. “I’ll have you so desperate with need that you’ll beg me.”
Not in a million years, she decided, only to have that thought flitter away as he captured her mouth with possessive force. His hands swept over her curves, mapping each one with a sensual caress. She arched, pressing against him with increasing need. Her fingers caught his cravat, untying it while he undid the back of her gown.
Something ripped and Brody chuckled. “Sorry, my love. I fear I’ve torn your sleeve.”
“It’s fine.” She was suddenly desperate to rid them both of their clothes. The faster the better. She went to work on his jacket and waistcoat next, pushing and shoving fabric aside until she was able to pull his shirt free and seek the reward she was after.
Her hand swept under the linen and she slowed her movements while meeting his gaze. He paused in the process of pushing her gown up over her head. His breaths came hard and his eyes had darkened to midnight blue.
Holding his gaze, she trailed her fingertips over his stomach.
He hissed and then his eyes flashed with desire.
Emboldened, she dipped her fingertips inside his waistband.
His grip on her gown tightened and when he spoke, his voice was strangled. “Harriet…”
“I want to taste you everywhere too.”
His eyes widened, and then he pounced. Her gown disappeared with a few rough tugs before she was lifted into his arms. She landed on the bed soon after. Frayed remnants of lace and silk swirled around her like morning mist. And at the center of it all, stood Brody, watching her with roguish delight.
* * *
