Seven Wicked Nights (Turner #1.5)

She pulled her lower lip into her mouth and bit it between her teeth. Was she upset? God, he hoped these gifts worked. Not to bribe her, just to make her understand. “Do you like them?”


“I don’t know how to feel.” She touched the small figurine of an archer, still wrapped in gauze. “I suppose a part of me is jealous that you had all these experiences alone.”

He ran his hand down her arm, stopping when the calluses on his palm snagged at the soft silk of her robe.

“Why did you buy these things?”

“Because I missed you. And I saw you everywhere. And I suppose I wanted to share a piece of my experience with you.” There were still several gifts in the trunk. “They are a poor substitute, I know. But I did not want you to think I forgot about you.”

She seemed to be listening. Hope spread through his chest.

“Like an imbecile, I thought if I just got enough distance, if I just found the perfect distraction, my anger would go away. I realize now that I was a fool. A self-centered, righteous fool. I wasn’t even really angry anymore. I should never have let it go on so long.”

Cat’s lips spread into a smile. A glorious smile. For him. “You said the words, not me.”

“We are in agreement.” He dared to reach for her. “I was a fool.”

He wrapped his arms around her and she turned her face up, welcoming him. “Kiss me, Jamie.”





CAT DIDN’T NEED to ask twice. Her husband lowered his lips to hers and she opened her mouth, tangled her tongue with his. He tasted of wine and desire and man.

She’d been a nervous mess when she left the drawing room earlier that evening. Wanting him. Not trusting herself for wanting him. Confused by all that had transpired over the last week. She’d fled to her room hoping he would follow and fearing it all the same.

Thank God he’d followed.

She lifted up onto her toes and pressed tighter against his chest. His skin held the same smell of spice and shaving powder. She drank it in. Her Jamie.

He’d thought of her. All those years, he’d never forgotten her. The trunk was still packed with gifts she had yet to open. Gifts from all over the world. Personal gifts that could only be for her.

She shifted until she felt his hardness against her belly and rubbed against him. He was thick and ready.

Immediately he pulled away and held her at arm’s length.

“Are you sure?” His eyes were smoky, heavy-lidded. “Tell me now if you want to stop.”

“I don’t want to stop.” Passion made her voice husky.

“Good.” He yanked the tie to her wrap and let it fall open, revealing the yellow night rail beneath. Made of nearly translucent cotton, it hid very little.

Truly, she had hoped he would knock on her door.

Now that he was here, she stood tall and let him drink her in with his eyes.

“You always did have exquisite taste in bedclothes.” It thrilled her, his growl.

Laughter bubbled through her as picked her up and half-fell, half-lowered her onto her bed.

“My wife.” Her skin quivered with his words and the hot brushes of his breath against her neck.

More. She needed more. Arching against him, she pressed her breasts into his chest. He lowered his mouth and captured the hard peaks of her nipples through the fabric of her gown.

Finally. Finally.

She dug her fingers into his hair. The pleasure he gave her, it raked across her skin, left her shaking.

Soft cotton slid across her legs. Jamie was pushing her gown up. She did not stop him, but pulled his mouth back to hers.

When his hands fumbled with the fall of his breeches, Cat caught her breath.

“Jamie,” she panted. “Wait.”

“I apologize.” He dropped his hand and laughed against her skin. “Thoughts of you have been making me crazy all day.”

“It’s all right.” Her voice quivered. Did he notice?

She would give him everything. But first, she was going to make him pay. Cat rolled her husband onto his back and kneeled at his side.

“Take your shirt off.”

“Your wish is my command.” He’d already removed his waistcoat and cravat before he came into her room. He quickly divested himself of his shirt and threw it to the floor.

She leaned down and licked the hard muscle of his chest. He tasted of salt, just like she remembered. She sat back on her heels. “Now your breeches.”

Her heart beating wildly in her chest, she held his hot gaze as he pulled off the last of his clothing. His member lay long and thick across his belly.

No doubt about it, she would taste him everywhere. “Lie down and cross your hands behind your head.”

He didn’t listen at all. His hand was back in her hair. “But I want to touch you.”

She pulled back from his touch and shook her head. “Up. Cross them. Behind your head.”

Her breath faltered as he did as commanded. He looked so delicious like this, the muscles of his chest and shoulders highly defined. Feeling saucy, she straddled his hips and pulled her night rail over her head. Her hair brushed down over her naked back.