Page 34 of The Lyon’s Paw

“I am certain stranger things have happened, my dear.” He gave her a quirky smile, then continued. “Here, let me start again. ‘Her situation in life, the character of her father and mother…’”

The more his words painted a picture of Catherine Morland in Diana’s mind, the less attention she began to pay to the ache in her foot as she pondered if she were not more than a little like Miss Austen’s heroine. Sadly, she came to the conclusion that she and Miss Morland had very little in common, save being unlikely heroines. Still, the way the author revealed her characters caught Diana’s attention so well, she listened rapt as Geoffrey continued to divulge the mysteries of Catherine from infancy up to the age of ten and seven at which time she set out on an auspicious journey to Bath in search of adventure. When at last Geoffrey closed the volume—just after Catherine had attended her first ball but had been prevented from dancing by a lack of acquaintances—Diana sat up, indignant. “Why are you stopping? I must know if she is able to find a partner at her next venture into the Upper Rooms.”

Chuckling, Geoffrey laid the book on the chaise and pulled Diana’s foot out of the bucket. “I needed to stop so I could release you from your icy prison, my dear. It has been somewhat over fifteen minutes since we began.”

“Oh.” Diana looked at her whitened foot as it emerged from the water. Her husband’s distraction had worked admirably. “I would not have believed it, but I paid my foot no attention once I began to be interested in Miss Morland’s escapades.” She smiled broadly at Geoffrey, who stopped drying her frozen flesh to stare deeply into her eyes. Diana caught her breath at the longing she saw there. “How clever you are, Geoffrey.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Hastily, he rubbed a cloth briskly over her foot and ankle, then took up the bottle of liniment and applied it liberally, massaging the oil deeply into her skin. Tingles appeared as her foot began to regain feeling.

Oddly, the tingles continued up her leg, to lodge deep inside her. The more Geoffrey dug his fingers into her skin, the more intense the tingles. Just as they had been when they had ridden Lucifer home the other day, with Geoffry pressed up against her back and bottom.

That thought sent a jolt of heat streaking throughout her body. Lord, that strangely pleasant experience was beginning again. She’d brought that memory up countless times lying in her bed alone these last nights. Wondering if those feelings would occur again if Geoffrey touched her. Now she had her answer.

He took up the cotton strips and proceeded to wind them around her foot. “Let me wrap your ankle, then I’ll get you in bed…”

Two spots of hectic pink appeared on Geoffrey’s cheeks. “I beg your pardon. That’s not what I meant.”

Steadying herself, she looked him squarely in the eyes and asked, “Wasn’t it?”

Unbreathing, they stared at one another until Diana had to gasp for air. The moment she did, his hands cupped her head, guiding her mouth to his. Pressing his lips to hers, softly at first, then more forcefully, he gave a deep groan that sent a chill down her spine.

Tingles shot from their joined mouths, streaking down her arms and body to lodge in that singular place deep inside her. She slid her arms around his neck, wanting him closer still.

He groaned and pressed her lips harder, his tongue sliding across the seam of their mouths with urgency.

She’d never kissed a man before, but if this was how you did it, she wouldn’t say no. Cautiously, she opened her lips a crack and gasped when his tongue slid neatly into her mouth. A peculiar sensation, but one she found enjoyable after a moment. Anything that brought him closer to her was enjoyable. And they couldn’t be much closer than this.

Panting, Geoffrey broke the kiss to gaze down at her, his eyes black as onyx. “I have wanted to do that for such a long time.”

“I wanted you to do it also.” Ever since that first dance at the ball, she’d wanted him to kiss her. “And…” Diana hesitated. She was about to cross the Rubicon if she dared. “And I wanted you to do more.” She drew in a breath. “More than just kiss me.”

His eyes burned like two black embers. “Do you truly, Diana?”

She nodded. Never had she wanted anything more in her life.

He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her.

She gloried in the warmth of him, in the scent of him that was clean and citrusy. A smell she’d become so used to she thought of it as the smell of home. She wanted to be home now. “Yes, Geoffrey. More than anything.”

Squeezing her tightly, Geoffrey murmured in her ear. “So do I, my love.” Then he groaned. “But we cannot.”

Diana pulled back, her brow furrowing as she fought to keep from shouting at him. “What do you mean, we cannot—” Oh, drat it. She didn’t have the words for what she meant. “Why? Why can’t we…”

“Because I will not risk you injuring your ankle further.” Geoffrey’s face was an absurd mixture of concern and agony.

“Doing more than kissing could injure my ankle?” Diana would have thought he was having a joke at her expense save for his pained expression.

“Much as I would like to say no, I am afraid it’s true.” He gazed lovingly into her face. “And I mean for our first time together as husband and wife to be the very best it can be.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “After all this time and all our trials, I think we deserve that, don’t you?”

“When you say it that way…” Diana sighed. She’d been so ready and now she’d have to wait… “How long? When will my infirmity be healed enough to allow us to…proceed?”

“Mr. Farley said five days. It has only been three days—”

“Three and a half days ago to be precise.” If she had to endure the wretched ice soaks and abstain from anything other than kissing with Geoffrey, she wanted the duration left to be exact. “So in another day and a half—”

“Let us say after dinner day after tomorrow?” A pucker of merriment crossed her husband’s lips. “That way we can be accurate almost to the minute when you will be fit to engage in…marital congress, shall we say?”

“You had better be accurate.” Diana stared straight into his eyes. “In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t like to wait.” She took his hand and boldly pressed it to her breast. “And I’m willing to bet neither do you.”