“Very good, sir, excellent.” Nick fished a coin from his pocket and pressed it into the man’s hand. “We’re not to be disturbed. My wife and I.” He’d been testing the words in his mind all evening. They sounded even sweeter when he said them aloud. From the corner of his eye he saw Emilia blush, but with an eager sparkle in her eyes.
“Of course,” replied the innkeeper with a knowing wink. The guinea was already in his pocket. “Good evening.”
Nick led Emilia to the same parlor they had had before. The coals were banked low, and the shutters closed. A decanter of wine and two glasses stood on the table, until Nick moved them to the mantel.
“You had a plan,” said Emilia in surprise.
“No.” He closed the door and turned the key. “I had hope, and made plans in case an opportunity arose.”
She watched him come back toward her. “So if I’d not gone outside...?”
He caught one of the ladder-back chairs and swung it away from the table. “I’d have invited you down to have a glass of wine with me.”
She tilted her head and smiled. “And now we shan’t have wine?”
“Later,” he said, and turned her around, to face the table. “After the demonstration.”
She was trembling, and her laugh sounded slightly nervous. “That sounds very practical...”
“Hmm.” He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck and fiddled with the top button. “In practice, I intend to ravish you on this table, Millie my darling. And then I might carry you up to my bed and do it again. You did say you’ll marry me, didn’t you?”
She twisted, her face glowing. “Yes.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist, sliding his hand up over her breast. “And you love me?”
“I do,” she answered breathlessly.
He kissed her. “Very good,” he murmured. “Allow me to demonstrate what you can expect, as Mrs. Dashwood and then Lady Sydenham.”
He bent her over the table as if she were playing billiards. She moved as he bid, laughing giddily as he told her to picture the two balls, then inhaling sharply as he raised the back of her skirt and folded it over her back. She gasped as he ran his hands up her thighs, urging her feet apart, and she moaned when he touched her where she was soft and already wet with desire.
Nick thought he’d lose his mind as he explored her body—her stockinged legs, her rounded hips, the soft curve of her belly, now taut and quivering as he drove her wild. His own hands were shaking when he finally ripped open the buttons of his falls and guided his aching cock into her. He pressed deep, holding her hips as she arched her back, and then they were moving together, Nick with one hand fisted in her rucked-up skirts and the other between her legs, Emilia gripping the far edge of the table and meeting every thrust of his hips.
And then suddenly he had to see her face. He stepped back and lifted her from the table. None too gently he sat her on it, facing him, her legs dangling off the side. Her eyes were dilated and her face was flushed, and her breasts rose and fell rapidly. He tipped up her head and kissed her hard.
“I love you,” she breathed, gripping his coat.
God.The blood roared in his ears. He pushed her back until she had to catch herself on her elbows. She melted against him, until he seized her knee and folded it back toward her chest and thrust home, again and again until the table rocked on its feet and Emilia looked at him with her lightning-bright eyes and gasped, “Nick—!”
When her back arched, her fingers spread wide, and her body clamped down on his in ecstasy, Nick felt a light-headedness that verged on euphoric. He went still, deep inside her, and climax roared through him, crackling through every muscle and sinew until he had to grab the table to stay upright.
Breathing hard, his face damp with sweat, he leaned over her, holding her close. He pressed his mouth to her breast, just above her still-buttoned bodice where that narrow, tantalizing ruffle was visible, and felt the rapid thrum of her heart.
He had never imagined himself in love, let alone wed. That was for other people—decent,goodpeople. He wasn’t the sort of man any reasonable woman would want for a husband, the son of a heartless beast, grown into a cold and calculating scoundrel. But here she was, in his arms, everything he hadn’t even bothered to long for: a clever, resourceful, magnificent woman who looked at him with her heart in her eyes. He could hardly believe she was real. “I love you,” he said dazedly, still astonished by how deeply he felt it, and shocked that she loved him back.
A dreamy laugh hummed through her body. She looped one arm around his neck, nuzzling little kisses on his temple. Nick shuddered at the tender intimacy. “Thank my lucky stars,” she whispered.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
The next night, Nick returned to the Vega Club.
He’d been gone almost a fortnight. It was like slipping into a familiar suit of clothes, but after such a long time, they didn’t quite fit the same way. He was glad to be back, and at the same time, something was different.
He supposed it was him. The club looked exactly as it always had.
“How was your excursion?” Forbes looked wary as he fell in step beside Nick.
“Productive. How were things here?” Nick opened his office door and tossed aside his hat and gloves.
