Chapter 40
Damien sprawled back against the sofa in his shirt and breeches, his gaze following Emily around the room as she prepared for bed. “I don’t know why you had to glower at him all evening, Damien. It was not at all subtle. I thought we had agreed we would not draw undue notice to ourselves.”
“I had agreed to act like a husband, Emily, and as such I did not appreciate the way he monopolized your attention.”
She removed her remaining stocking and pulled at the ties of her petticoat. Damien stared at her bare rump, forcing himself to remain on the sofa. “What did he talk to you about, anyway?”
“Architecture. He went on and on about flying buttresses and how castle kitchens should be remodeled for efficiency so that the food is not served stone-cold, as it was in days past.”
“Did you think he was attractive?”
She looked at him over her shoulder, the smile on her full-lipped mouth threatening his concentration. “You’re jealous.”
“Perhaps,” he said, his voice cool, his blood the opposite.
“You have no reason to be,” she said with a provocative smile.
His anger faded. His arousal did not. He forced himself to remember what they had been discussing. “I find it strange that he has made a tour of the kitchens, don’t you?”
“Not necessarily. He’s an architect. Perhaps he can’t help forming a professional opinion of the castle. I assume he would be well compensated if the viscount decided he wanted a structural change.”
“I don’t trust any man who inspects a kitchen unless it is his place of employment. I also distrust a man who devotes all his attention to my wife while I am present. It makes me wonder what he would dare behind my back.”
“Well, I don’t think you need worry on that account,” Emily said. “I do believe that when Winthrop spilled the wine in the man’s lap, it cooled his ardor.”
“Are you blaming me for Winthrop’s awkwardness?”
She cast him a cynical look. “Do you deny that he acted on your advice?”
“What is my confession worth to you?”
“Damien, really. You are an outrageous man. Do you truly expect to trade sexual favors for the truth?”
“I expect sexual favors from you because you are my wife. The truth is another matter.”
“You would lie to your wife?”
He laughed. “I would elude an answer that might upset you. But lie? No.”
She struggled with the first hook of her corset until he stood and crossed the floor to complete the task. “I miss having a maid.”
He nuzzled her neck. “I miss having a valet to shave me, too, but at the moment I’m glad that neither one of them are here. Hold still a minute while I get this last hook.”
“The hooks always resist. I despise wearing a corset, if you must know.”
“It gave you a décolletage tonight to make a man swoon. Brace your hands on the bedpost. I’m having a spot of trouble.”
“Is it that hook?”
“No, it’s getting out of my trousers and drawers using only my left hand.”
She obeyed, knowing from her experience with this man that he would not brook a refusal. She sighed at the delicate strokes of his knuckles between her shoulders and then the hollow of her spine. He could entice her to the edge of the world. How wretched to know he could so easily arouse in her this maddening desire.
He said in a low voice, “This is what happens, Emily, when you flaunt your beautiful body in front of me.”
She clung to the bedpost with her back to Damien, bound not by chains but by her own need. He closed his hands around her hips, drawing her into the heat and hard contours of his lower body. Slowly he rubbed his erection between the crease of her bottom, and to her mortification she braced herself, spreading her legs wider in shameless anticipation.
“I was jealous, Emily,” he said as he slipped one hand around her belly. “I was jealous enough to forget that I have a job to do.”
“You’re insane if you think I’d ever be unfaithful with another man.”
His teeth grazed her shoulder. His hand found one plump breast and squeezed her nipple into aching hardness. “That seems to be the trouble. I’m not able to think when we are together. That’s a disability in my profession.”
She pressed her forehead to the bedpost. “I guarantee that you are better able to make sense of your thoughts than I can at this moment.”
? ? ?
He realized now that he had lost the battle to remain emotionally disengaged in his marriage. His wife trusted him. Perhaps if she had known him only a year ago she would have done anything to escape him. He had returned to England disillusioned by the sins he had witnessed and committed in other lands. Empty. Hollow. A shell that had survived for what purpose, he had not understood until now.
He might have seduced her body, but she had stolen and restored what had been left of his soul. And now he feared he could not live without her. He needed the passion she engaged in him and the sweetness of her submission.
He could feel her invitation, the dampness of her on his cock when she opened herself to him. As her bottom brushed against his groin, his entire body tightened in desperation he could not restrain. He wanted to feel every forbidden crevice of her body. To conquer and caress.
“Damien,” she whispered, releasing one of her hands from the bedpost. “Why are you teasing me so?”
“I want you to beg for it,” he replied, the hoarseness of his voice betraying his own excitement. He taunted her with shallow thrusts into her sheath. His senses took delight in the helpless shivers that coursed through her.
“Hurry,” she whispered faintly, her other hand dropping to her side. “It’s late.”
“What a shame I asked Winthrop and Iris to our room tonight.”
She turned and placed her arm around his neck. “According to the clock on the mantel, we still have half an hour.”
“Thirty minutes?” He took her hand and she led him back through the bedchamber to the sofa. She reclined before him, the candlelight illuminating her soft curves and inviting flesh. He needed no other enticement. He bent over her, kissing her into a daze as his hands caressed her creamy breasts and belly.
She was his. His wife. He lost track of time when they were together, whether it was during sex or sitting in an uncomfortable carriage. At times she soothed him. At others she heated his blood and he knew she was the only woman who could put out the fire before it consumed him. But when they made love, it was as if nothing else existed.