Authors: Denise Patrick
His hand slipped inside her dressing gown, parting the slippery folds of silk, and a small moan escaped her as he placed featherlight kisses along the tops of her breasts. She could feel a spreading warmth, like a fever moving along her limbs. Squirming restlessly against the smooth sheets, she searched for a cool spot where there was none to be found. Her hands threaded through the thick silk of his hair, tightening against his skull as his tongue rasped a hardened nipple.
Her dressing gown fell open, revealing that she was wearing nothing beneath and she had a moment of uncertainty when he paused to look down at her. The worry was for naught as the delight in his eyes caressed her bare skin, causing her to tremble at the passion held severely in check. No one had ever looked at her like that before, and the shiver of anticipation that rippled through her at it was exceedingly pleasant.
“Ah, Corinna.” Marcus’s voice was dark and intense, its timbre vibrating through her. His warm mouth covered a nipple and she gasped at the sensation.
She did not know how to answer; wasn’t sure she should or could. His hands stroked lightly over her skin, down over her ribs, to the indentation of her waist, across the flat of her stomach, and lower to the juncture of her thighs.
Trepidation warred with curiosity, and the latter won out as Marcus’s finger touched her in a spot so sensitive she arched into his hand and gripped his shoulders as a gasp escaped. Parting her legs to provide him greater access, he continued to press lower, touching her in ways that sent shockwaves through her. She whimpered as his mouth finally ceased its torture of one breast, only to move to the other.
Her hands moved restlessly over the muscled planes of his shoulders and back, not daring to move lower. Vaguely she realized that he, too, was naked, but the thought was lost when he raised his head to hers and took her mouth in a long, drugging kiss that turned her bones to water. Nothing existed in that moment except Marcus and the wonderful sensations his hands and mouth were kindling within, and when he moved to cover her body with his she opened to him like a flower to the sun.
The stab of pain was slight, yet sharp enough to cause her to catch her breath and tighten her grip across his broad back. He went still at her intake of breath. Holding his upper body above hers, he looked down into her eyes, silently asking for permission to continue. The rigid self-control was barely leashed, but she could see in his eyes that he would stop if she asked him to. Fortunately the pain had receded, leaving in its wake her insatiable curiosity still to be satisfied. She moved beneath him.
“Don’t stop now,” she whispered. “Not now.” She had been momentarily diverted, yet now, as he began to move within her, the warmth reinvaded her body and she clung to him as he allowed his passion to slip its restraint.
Marcus became her world in that moment, the only solid, tangible presence in the sensual haze in which she found herself. She couldn’t think. The sensations were too vivid, too acute, her feverish moans seeming to draw them closer to some point she could not envision. She drew his head down to hers and kissed him passionately. She could not stop the cry that escaped as fireworks exploded in her head and she clung to him as her body continued to shudder and he collapsed beside her, holding her and stroking her as she gently floated back to earth.
Nothing had prepared her for this. She had not expected the tidal wave of pleasure that suddenly swamped her senses, washing away the layers of fear and uncovering an uninhibited nature that at another time would have shocked her to her core. She understood now how two could become one, how easy it would be to become part of another person. And she was convinced that tonight she and Marcus had done both.
It was the closing of a door that awakened Corinna the next morning. Surfacing through layers of sleep, she gradually became aware of unfamiliar surroundings and a warm, but unaccustomed, weight draped across her waist, anchoring her to the bed. Opening her eyes, she allowed them to wander as far as they could without moving her head, but all that allowed her to see was the far side of what turned out to be the master bedroom. Memory returned in a rush.
She was in Marcus’s bed! Turning her head, she confirmed that Marcus was indeed beside her. She did not, however, expect to find him lying on his side, awake and watching her. She knew she blushed, but did not drop her eyes from his. She would not feel embarrassed at the previous night’s activities. Hadn’t Eliza told her it was natural?
What Eliza hadn’t told her, however, was how wonderful it would be. She had told Corinna she would not find it as uncomfortable and awkward as the description made it seem, and she had been right. But Eliza had not told her it would be the most thrilling experience of her life. Perhaps Eliza had not been able to convey the sheer magnitude in just words. She knew, she admitted to herself, she would not have been able to.
She wondered if Marcus felt the same way she did. Had the experience been as perfect for him as it had been for her? How would she know?
Marcus watched Corinna awaken, sensing when she became aware of her surroundings and recognizing when she remembered the night before. He wasn’t sure how she felt, but for him it had been a revelation, for he had discovered a deep well of passion inside his wife. Having tapped it and been the recipient of its bounty, he knew he had been given a priceless gift. He had said once before that he was a very lucky man. It wasn’t until last night that he realized just how fortunate he really was.
He had never wanted for female company. Even when his future had been uncertain, he had never lacked for companionship. But none of his experiences had ever come close to last night. He had wanted to make the experience perfect for Corinna, but he had not realized making it perfect for her would increase his own satisfaction exponentially.
As her eyes turned toward him, she blushed, the soft rose color spreading across her cheeks. The uncertainty in her eyes touched him and his arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer.
“Are you lost?” he asked, a smile touching his lips.
She shook her head. “No,” she replied boldly. “I know exactly where I am.”
“And where is that?”
“Exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
Marcus drew her close so that their bodies touched as they lay on their sides. Shifting onto her back, she reached up and wound her arms around his neck as he dipped his head and asked, “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Her arms tightened in a bid to pull him into a kiss, but he resisted. “But is it where you want to be?”
“Yes,” she responded softly, and when his eyes continued to probe hers, added, “
This
is where I want to be.”
His arms tightened around her then and he allowed himself to be drawn into a deeply passionate kiss that led to one thing, then another, and meant that neither emerged from the master suite until it was time for luncheon.
For the next week, Corinna would feel the blood rising in her face every time she recalled her bold foray into Marcus’s bedroom and the conversation she’d had with Marcus upon waking up in his bed the next morning. Each time she’d berate herself for being so shameless and forward. As the weeks passed, however, she came to understand that Marcus enjoyed her boldness and encouraged her.
She was sure, she thought, that she should not enjoy the time they spent in bed so much. She should not, she scolded herself, look forward to the evenings. Nor should she be so eager to learn and to please. Unfortunately, her mind was the only part of her that believed all that. Her body and heart were more than willing to follow Marcus’s lead, and by the time they left St. Ayers for London, she knew she had fallen completely in love with her husband.
She would not, however, burden him with the knowledge. He had not bargained on a besotted wife. It did not occur to her that he might take advantage of her newly discovered feelings, but she was not willing to make a declaration, only to find that he could not return it. That might jeopardize their newfound camaraderie and lessen the enjoyment she had in his company. Their blossoming friendship was important to her for it gave her the confidence to speak to him about almost anything, and to ask questions when she might not have otherwise.
Besides, she wanted to be independent, and relying on Marcus for everything was not part of the plan.
Chapter Fifteen
St. Ayers should now be intact. I hope this belated effort on the part of our family will enable your grandfather to rest in peace.
John, 6th Duke of Warringham, to his son, Marcus, 7th Earl St. Ayers
The last time she’d been in a coach headed for Waring House, Corinna wondered how she might discover Marcus’s whereabouts without alerting the duke or duchess as to who she was. Now, remembering her initial feelings of apprehension as she entered the large, imposing mansion for the first time, she discovered it could still impress, but no longer intimidate.
The drawing room was as she remembered, only this time Felicia was the sole occupant of the room as she was shown in.
“I see you made it,” Felicia remarked. “I have to admit,” she confided as they sat, “I thought Marcus would find some excuse not to appear.”
Corinna laughed. “He would have,” she acknowledged, “but Eliza wrote and reminded him we were due for tea tomorrow. She said even the cousins from Scotland will be here.”
Felicia nodded, amusement brimming in her eyes. “That’s right. I might have forgotten, except Amanda mentioned it over tea just yesterday.” Wharton, the butler, entered with tea, placing the tray before Felicia prior to withdrawing. “She told me her great-aunt Marian is on pins and needles waiting for you to arrive.”
Corinna accepted a cup from Felicia and watched Felicia pour herself a cup before commenting, “I just hope I remember them all.”
“They are a large family,” Felicia commented, “and not without considerable influence. Trent has already asked his cousin, Doyle, to look into your father’s will. Doyle is a solicitor so I suspect he will have some specific questions for you come tomorrow.” She took a sip of her tea. “And the last time I was at Barrington House, Eliza made a special effort to show me the picture of your great-grandmother and point out the diamond-and-ruby necklace she was wearing.”
The mention of the jewelry reminded Corinna of what she and Marcus found in the bottom of the wardrobe in her bedroom.
Neither of them had given Mrs. Cotter’s parting words much thought until nearly a week later. On the morning of Marcus’s birthday, she had awakened first. Thankful they had spent the night in her bed, she slipped from the bed and donned her russet silk wrapper, then padded across the room to the wardrobe to retrieve the now-finished gift.
Opening the wardrobe, she was bending over, pulling the paper-wrapped parcel from the bottom, when a large arm had wrapped itself around her waist and hauled her up against a hard male chest. He had startled her into dropping the bundle and she turned on him in consternation.
“It’s a good thing,” she declared, “it’s not breakable.”
“What’s not breakable?” he’d asked with a grin.
Pushing his arm away, she retrieved the package and turned back to him, only to find him looking over her shoulder, his forehead furrowed in thought.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I was just remembering what Mrs. Cotter said. What do you suppose she meant by ‘they’ll all be there’?”
“I suppose it would depend on what ‘they’ were.”
Marcus moved around her and dropped down on one knee, looking at the bottom of the wardrobe. Running his hand over it, he leaned back and looked at the bottom from the outside. Leaning further in, he ran his hand along the back and suddenly said, “Ah.”
“Did you find something?” she asked, leaning down over his naked back. It struck her, momentarily, that his nakedness did not unnerve her, and she wondered when she’d become so blasé.
“I think there’s a false bottom here, but my fingers are too thick to pry it loose. Why don’t you try?”
She dropped to her knees beside him. “Where?”
Marcus guided her hand against the back of the wardrobe. There she felt a gap between the back panel and the floor of the wardrobe. Removing her hand, she picked up his present, put the parcel in his lap and said, “Happy Birthday,” then turned back to the wardrobe. She could hear the rustling of paper as she worked her fingers into the opening, finally pulling a piece of the bottom panel free.
Reaching into the opening, she found a metal box. It was not particularly heavy, but it was wedged tightly in the small space. When she finally worked it free and turned to put it down on the floor, she found Marcus standing above her and the look on his face took her breath away.
The gold brocade dressing gown fit him perfectly. Trimmed with brown velvet lapels and cuffs, she could not tear her eyes away from him. Forgotten was the box on the floor at her feet.
“It fits?” she asked needlessly, standing and stepping toward him at the same time. Running her hands over the material, she added, “I had to steal one of your other ones to make sure I got the measurements right. Barnes has probably been in a panic wondering what happened to it.”
The mention of his valet made him smile, but the look of astonishment remained. “You did this yourself?” he asked in wonder.