Page 95 of A Perfect Gentleman

He stepped back and closed the door. And he knew: whatever it cost, whatever the pain or fear or right or wrong of it, it didn’t matter. He refused to stay away from Abby for a moment longer.

chapter 31

It was too late to take the train, so Graeme rode to Lydcombe. It was almost midnight before he reached Lydcombe Hall, and the windows of the house were dark. He was gratified to see a groom walking around the house, lantern in hand, keeping watch as Graeme had ordered. The man turned at the sound of the horse’s hooves and stepped forward to stop Graeme, raising the lantern.

“My lord!” The groom broke into a grin. “Welcome home, sir. Didn’t know you was coming in tonight.”

“No one did.” Graeme dismounted and tossed the man the reins.

“A surprise, eh? The ladies will be happy.”

“Let us hope so.” Graeme trotted up the steps.

A footman sitting on the bench inside the entry popped up, reaching for the cudgel beside him. “Oh. My lord. Sorry, sir.” He set the thick stick back on the bench.

“No, I’m glad to see you’re at the ready.” He, like the footman, spoke in the hushed tones the darkened house seemed to call for.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll get your luggage.”

“No need. My valet will bring it with him tomorrow. I came ahead early.” Shrugging out of his jacket, he cast a look up the stairs to the darkness above. “Everyone’s already in bed, I see.”

“Yes, sir, country hours.”

“And the countess, is she well? My countess, I mean.”

“Yes, sir, in the pink, I’d say. She’ll be even better now you’re here.”

“Mm.” Graeme was less sure of that, but he said nothing, just picked up a candle from the nearest table and, throwing his jacket over his arm, started quietly up the stairs. He tugged at his ascot as he went, progressing to unfastening his waistcoat and shirt as he slipped softly down the corridor toward his room. Tired and ready for sleep as he was, still he stopped outside Abby’s closed door. He was sorely tempted to go inside.

But it would be unkind to risk awakening her just so he could see her face. And what if she wasn’t happy to see him? He could not bear that. Graeme continued to his room, his head down, his attention on the cuff links he was removing. He had walked several steps into his bedroom before he looked up. His gaze fell on his bed, and he froze. Abigail was tucked into his bed, sound asleep.

The candlestick trembled faintly in his hand. And the knot that had been sitting inside his chest for so long loosened. She had chosen to sleep in his bed. Graeme set the candlestick on the dresser and sat down to remove his boots. Taking up the candle again, he went over to the bed.

Abby lay on her side, just as he had imagined her yesterday, dark hair spilling over the pillow. Her lips were slightly parted; her lashes shadowed her cheeks. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He should, he knew, snuff out the candle so he wouldn’t awaken her, but he wanted too much to look at her. It seemed forever since he had seen her, though it had been only three weeks. He knew; he had counted every dragging day.

Putting the candlestick on the table, he sat down on the bed beside her. Abby stirred and edged closer to him, her hand sliding over onto his leg. It lay like a brand on his thigh, and if he had not already been stiff just from the sight of her curled up cozily between his sheets, he certainly was now.

Need throbbed in him. It had been so long. He wanted her so much. He shouldn’t awaken her. Graeme curved his hand over her cheek, pushing back the strand of dark hair that had fallen across it.

Abby’s eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him, still half-asleep. “Graeme!” A smile blazed across her face and she flung herself up against him, her arms curling around his neck. “You’re here.”

He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her to him. God, it was heaven to hold her again, to feel her burrow into him, to hear her murmur his name in breathy little gasps as she pressed her lips against his neck.

Graeme kissed her all across her face, digging his fingers into her hair, and settled finally on her mouth, drinking in her taste, her scent, her feel—all so deliciously familiar, so long untasted. Until this moment, he had not realized the depth of his emptiness, the glacial cold that had settled inside him. He slid his hand over her body, curling over her breast, and his mouth traveled over the tender skin of her throat, wanting her, all of her, at once.

Abby’s hands slipped beneath the sides of his open shirt, gliding across his naked skin. He pulled his hands away from her long enough to shrug out of his shirt and waistcoat and throw them blindly behind him. Abby had sat up and was tugging at her nightgown. Graeme reached over to whip it up and off her, sending it to join his clothes on the floor.

He looked at her in the golden glow of the candle, rediscovering each line and curve of her body. Reaching out, he cupped her breasts, teasing the nipples to hardness with his thumbs. “You are so beautiful.”

Bending down, he took one breast in his mouth, his tongue stroking, circling, as if nothing existed in the world but this pleasure. Abby made a soft noise, her fingers clutching at his shoulders. Lifting his head, he pressed a soft kiss on the pebbled nipple, then turned his attention to the other breast. The moan that escaped her now was not so soft.

Still tormenting them both with the slow, languid caress of his mouth, he reached down, groping for the sheet and blanket still covering Abby’s lower half. He ripped them aside and his hand started a slow glide up her leg.

He left her breast, sitting up now so that he could look at her. The curve of her hips, the dark V between her legs, the shadowy separation of her legs. She filled his vision. He could not get enough of looking at her.

Graeme watched his hand on her satiny white skin as it slid up her leg. His fingers slipped between her thighs, seeking her hot center. A tremor shook him when he found her ready for him, slick and wet and hot.

She whimpered his name as his fingers stroked her. Almost immediately she arched against his hand, her legs clamping around him, and a sharp little cry escaped her lips.