As cold as one, too. She shivered.
“Cold?” he asked, never taking his gaze from her. “Not for long.” He slid down her body and pressed a kiss between her breasts. “You know.” He slid further down and branded her belly with a kiss. “I am a man of many words.” His hands grasped her hips and his lips touched right above her private curls. “But I am also good at taking action.”
First, his fingers stroked her, parted her, as he had earlier. Then, his breath warmed her center, his lips caressed it, and his tongue followed the trail set by his fingers. Only the tongue was cleverer. It found a bit of Maggie she’d barely known existed, kissed it, teased it until she writhed beneath him, begging him for … something. She clutched at his hair, his shoulders, whatever she could reach, for each swipe of his tongue made her want to hold him closer, made her want more.
“Tobias,” she breathed.
His only answer was to do more. One hand cupped her hip, drawing circles over her hip bone and the other snaked beneath her shift and recommenced the ministrations he’d abandoned at her breasts. She arched into his talented hands, aching to be touched all over all at once.
The sensations exploded across her skin, but delved deeper. Where he touched her, she wished to touch him, too, and then to delve deeper and touch his heart.
“Tobias,” she gasped, “what—”
“Shh.”
The silencing sound whispered across her sensitive sex as the most pleasure she’d felt in her life rippled through her, starting at her core and pulsing outward to each finger, toe, and—impossible but somehow possible!—strand of hair. As she shook, Tobias wrapped her in his arms and pulled her tight against him.
She turned in his arms and pressed her face against his chest. It was hard with muscle, but the skin was soft, warm, and smelled only of him. “Tobias, I do not marryyoufor money. You are aware of that, yes?”
She expected a playful rejoinder, but he merely pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. “Will you stay with me tonight? I’ll wake you before the sun rises so you can return to your room.”
She yawned and nodded her consent. It seemed Serious Tobias would remain for a bit. Who would she wake up with? It didn’t matter. She loved every single version of Tobias she’d met. But how would she feel about the ones he still kept secret?
Chapter 16
It had been one week since Maggie had last seen Tobias; one week since the kiss in the garden had compromised them a second time and her midnight visit to his bedroom had bathed her in promises of a new beginning. She tapped the round table in the entryway and stared at the letter in the table’s middle addressed to Lady Magnificent Bromley. She’d never seen Tobias’s handwriting, but the letter had to come from him. The sweeping handwriting took up almost the entire square of fine cream-colored paper. So many loops! Dramatic, just like him.
She picked it up and turned it over. A London return address and the name Mr. Tobias Blake stared back at her in the same loopy script. She grinned. She’d guessed aright.
She took the letter and sought out a quiet room. All rooms were quiet since the party had ended. A blessing. Yet she missed one deep, scratchy voice, one that often said ridiculous things.
Once in her bedroom, she settled into the window seat. She didn’t read it yet but closed her eyes and held it lightly in her lap. An uneasy feeling that she’d found a home formed in her gut. He’d shown her pleasure she’d not known existed, yes, but more importantly, no other man had truly seen her and appreciated her for only herself.
Yet a part of her held back. He would only ever share so much of himself with her. At least he’d been truthful about it, but it was not a truth that inspired confidence. Not telling her everything was not exactly the same thing as always lying, but it unnerved her nonetheless.
Especially the question of a mistress. Did he have one? If so, did he plan on leaving her after the wedding? And whether he did or not, would Maggie ever know? He could be in his mistress’s arms that very moment, and she’d never be any the wiser.
His letter stared up at her. Letters were meant to be communications of information, but could she ever expect that from a man who shared nothing of himself with others?
There was no use avoiding the letter any longer. She pried the wax seal away just enough to unfold the paper and read.
Dear Lady Magnificent Bromley,
How are the artists? Despondent, I suppose, without my presence. I did so lighten the too-serious tone of your parents’ house party. Tobias, they all thought (I’m sure), is the very soul of frivolity and fun. Do you like alliteration, Maggie? I digress. The artists’ clear regard for me is the only reason I can give for the ruckus that occurred in the garden after you kissed me. They were enraged to see so villainous a lady take advantage of so innocent a gentleman.
Yet, it’s all turned out well. I know you’ll agree. Married in a month. Did you ever think you’d be so lucky?
Do stay in touch. I do not know if I’ll make it up North before our wedding. There’s much to do to prepare for your arrival. I must remove the scandalous literature from the library and the painters from the parlor. I’m not sure what they’re doing there. They let themselves in and have stayed ever since. And since you despise artists (except for me, of course), I’ll have to force them out.
By the by, do you think two bedrooms enough for a newly married couple? I begin to worry my bachelor accommodations will not prove pleasant for married life.
Your fiancé and rogue of all jokes,
Mr. Tobias Blake
Maggie dropped the letter to her lap. What a mind her fiancé had, all twists and turns and unexpected avenues. He made her laugh like no other. Suddenly filled to brimming with joy, she rose and settled herself at the writing desk.
Dear Mr. Blake,
