Page 27 of The New Earl’s Convenient Wife

Chapter Nine

On a warm, bright, sunny May noontime two weeks later, Rafe helped Juliana unpack the blanket and saddlebags at her favourite spot by the river after their morning review of the sheep farms. Lambing season was almost done; with the weather warming, the ewes with single lambs had already been allowed to return to their traditional grazing grounds high on the fells. The occasion demanded, his formerly industrious wife declared, that they take advantage of the moment and the beauty of the day and indulge themselves with some time off for a picnic.

Just the two of them, she’d said, her wide brown eyes gazing at him. Though the timbre of her voice when she’d suggested the outing this morning had not contained any undertone of sensuality, as he settled their supplies near the stream, Rafe couldn’t help feeling a rise of anticipation. They were alone; the day was warm and fair, and who knew what his ingenious wife might be planning?

‘We probably should have brought a pole and some lures,’ she was saying as she spread out the blanket. ‘You said you find fishing relaxing, and the trout should be running. I remember we caught some fine fish in years past from the bank over there, where the salmon ladders are, though it’s not the right time of year for them. Still, trout makes a good meal.’

‘We can bring some next time. There will be pike and perch as well as the summer advances, though more in the larger lake than here.’

‘That spot by the tree was one of your favourite swimming places, too, as I recall.’

He looked up from placing the basket in surprise. ‘How would you know?’

She grinned. ‘I might have seen you and Ian there once or twice. Did you never sense someone watching you?’

The idea that her eyes had followed him as he frolicked, nude, with his brother, made his pulses accelerate. ‘Wicked girl! Your governess would have shut you up on bread and water if she ever knew.’

Juliana only chuckled, mischief in her eyes. ‘True. And Mama would have had apoplexy. Despite the evidence in the farm animals all around, she would have had me believe that men possessed nothing beneath their breeches.’

‘Were you impressed to learn what was beneath my breeches?’

She gave him a look that made his breath catch. ‘A wondrous introduction to what would come later. But come, let’s have our luncheon.’

She took a seat, patting the blanket beside her.

He sat beside her, their shoulders touching, his body stirring in the way she always seemed to affect him. He marveled once again that he’d ever thought her shy and retiring, this creature of unconscious sensuality who lit his desire like a flame set to dry tinder.

She kept him on that sensual edge throughout their rustic meal, feeding him bits of cheese and ham, slowly licking her lips or sucking the strawberry bits from her fingers and his, her eyes on his face.

She knew what she was doing to him, he was certain, for once they’d finished the last of the bread and cheese, she murmured, ‘Let me clean up the crumbs’—and leaned up to slowly lick his lips, from one corner of his mouth to the other, nuzzling and nipping at them.

He groaned, opening to her, and her tongue swept inside, exploring his mouth, laving his tongue with her own. With a growl, he pushed her back against the blankets, kissing her harder, deeper.

He burned to bury his face against her naked breasts and draw the taut pink nipples into his mouth, but she was armored in a breastplate of linen and wool, several thick layers of chemise, shirt and riding jacket. But then, still kissing him deeply, she pulled up the skirt of her habit and guided his hand past boot and knee to the softness of her upper thighs. Sliding sideways, she widened her legs and brought his hand to her hot, wet center.

His cock leapt and she gasped as he pushed one finger, two, into her tight passage, caressing in and out to the rhythm of their panting breaths, until she gripped his arms and writhed, gasping and pulsing around him.

She sagged back against the blankets, dazed for a minute while he covered her face with small, nibbling kisses. Then, reviving, she deftly plucked open the buttons of his straining trouser flap, yanked up her skirts and urged him over and into her.

Eyes closed, panting, she moved with him as he thrust deep, he holding off until the last possible moment before overwhelming passion exploded into completion.

Sated, spent, he rolled her to the side and bound her close as they both dozed into the soft twilight aftermath of passion fulfilled.

Sometime later, she woke him with a nibbling kiss to his chin. Sitting up, she lifted the heavy braid from her neck. ‘My, how warm the day has become!’

He chuckled. ‘I expect our…activities made some contribution to the warmth.’

‘Perhaps. But I know just the remedy. It’s time for a swim.’

Rafe laughed. ‘It’s not yet June! You’ll freeze!’

‘Nonsense. It will be…invigorating.’

‘I don’t think so.’ Shaking his head, not sure whether she really meant to go through with it, he watched as she unbuttoned her jacket, pulled off the garment and tossed it onto the blanket, then unfastened her skirt and stepped out of it.

‘Help me with the blouse and stays, please?’ she said, turning to offer him her back. ‘I can’t reach all the fastening.’

Despite his recent satisfaction, his body stirred at the idea of seeing her standing naked before him, revealing the breasts he’d not been able to caress, the nipples he still burned to taste. With his avid assistance, she soon stood before him, chemise, shift, stays, habit, shoes and stockings discarded on the blanket beneath them. ‘Ah, the warm sun is glorious!’ she murmured, arching her head back into a sunbeam.