He nipped the nape of her neck, teeth closing around the slight rise of a delicate vertebrae before he plunged forward, burying himself to the hilt whilst simultaneously yanking her against him. She cried out, her entire body shuddering in a crashing wave of sweet release that spurred his own glorious climax. Anchoring his chin on her shoulder, he came with a hard thrust, stars dancing behind his eyelids from the sheer ferocity of his orgasm.
Turning her chin, he claimed her lips in a final, bruising kiss before disentangling himself and blindly searching the ground for her clothes. Panting slightly, eyes wide and mane wild, she accepted her shift, slender arms trembling as she slipped it over her head and it fell past her waist to skim the top of her calves.
“Should we…should we retire?” she asked huskily, causing his blood to quicken all over again.
He started to nod until his gaze inadvertently flicked to the desk behind her, and the mess they’d left in their wake. Scattered papers. Spilled ink. An entire day’s worth of carefully sorted correspondence and contracts…ruined.
Following the direction of his stare, Lavinia stiffened. “Nicholas–”
“You go ahead,” he said, pulling on his trousers. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”
Her eyes flashed a warning. “Nicholas–”
“A few minutes,” he promised. “No longer.”
Two hours later,Nicholas was still in his study, this time sitting behind his desk instead of bending his wife over the top of it. He had a merger in the morning, an offer to purchase a fledgling railroad company, and he never entered a negotiation without having memorized every word in the contract ahead of time.
Upstairs, Lavinia laid awake staring at the ceiling, the pleasant haze from the wine she’d imbibed and the breathtaking pleasure that followed having been replaced with a cold resolve. A resolve as icy and chilled as the silver icicles that clung to the eaves outside the window.
She would not be trapped in a loveless marriage, even one filled with occasional passionate nights. And she hadn’t come this far to be second.
If Nicholas couldn’t choose her first…then he couldn’t have her at all.
Chapter Three
Like a cat with a mousein its curled little paws, Lavinia waited until breakfast to pounce. Breathing in the fresh smell of pine from the evergreen boughs draped along the mantle in the dining room, she methodically filled her plate with a poached egg, roasted potatoes, a slab of bacon, and a thin slice of honey cake before joining her husband beside his customary seat at the head of the long table.
He was already reading the newspaper, the pair of thin wire-rimmed spectacles perched on the edge of his nose giving him a scholastic charm that she did her best to ignore. She did not want to becharmedby Nicholas. Or coerced. Or convinced that the plan she was about to present to him was ridiculous. She was not going to allow her wits to be dimmed by wine–coffee only this morning, thank you very much–or her eyes to be distracted by a set of kissable lips and a stomach that could have been used to scrub clothes clean. No, on this morning–this oh so important morning–she was going to remain alert, poised, and determined.
“Ahem,” she said, laying her linen napkin across the skirt of her dress, its festive color matching the greenery scattered throughout the house. “Ahem.”
“Hmm?” Lowering the newspaper, Nicholas peered at her over the top of it, his vaguely surprised expression revealing that he hadn’t even noticed she had sat down next to him. And wasn’t that exactly the problem? Neither of themnoticedeach other anymore. The tingling awareness they’d once had whenever one of them had entered the room was gone. In its place was a mild apathy. An acceptance that this was their marriage now, for better or worse. But Laviniawantedthe tingling. She wanted what they’d had last night, but she wanted it to be the rule, not the once-every-six-months exception.
“You didn’t know I was here, did you?” she asked, her arched brow daring him to lie.
“I thought you’d left already for the hospital breakfast.”
“The hospital breakfast was last week.”
“Another breakfast for charity, then.” The newspaper dropped another few inches as his gaze focused on her. “You look lovely today, Lavinia.”
Yes, she did, but that was beside the point.
Or maybe thatwasthe point.
They’d gotten so accustomed to ignoring each other, mending any temporary rift with a mindless compliment, and then moving on that it no longer felt isolating or strange, but itwasthose things. It was both those things, and more. It was being lonely when she was sitting right next to him. It was feeling lost when she wanted to be found. It was longing for what they’d once had while being completely baffled by how they’d gotten to where they were.
And she was putting a stop to it.
This morning.
This very minute.
Now.
“There is a matter that we need to discuss, Nicholas.”
Behind the clear round glass of his spectacles, his eyes–the rich, dark brown of coffee before a swirl of cream was added–grew wary. “If this is about last night–”
