The morning light hadn’t yet penetrated Kate’s bedroom, but Aidan could just make out her still-sleeping form through the open doorway. The sight brought a smile to his mouth. That kind of exhaustion was enough to flatter any man. Then again, she’d done most of the work—she had a right to be tired.
He stepped carefully in, setting the tray on the table and wondering whether to wake her. The sweet rolls his chef had baked were still warm and he imagined she’d appreciate that, so he crossed to the bed and sat on the edge, meaning to kiss her awake. The beauty of her flushed cheeks and naked shoulders distracted him from his mission and he just sat for long minutes, taking her in.
He’d awakened with a stiff back, a numb arm, and skin slick with sweat where she lay pressed against him. His muscles had ached from the physical struggle to restrain himself during their lovemaking. But, more than anything, he’d felt good. So much better than his other experiences, so much more. To leave a woman’s bed with a sense of completion instead of diminishment. It seemed a different act altogether.
He’d left her that morning with a gentle kiss to her sleepy mouth and returned with breakfast just to ensure she’d have no regrets. Food always seemed to smooth the way with Kate.
Unable to resist the pretty picture she presented, he trailed a finger over the graceful curve of her shoulder. Her skin was sweet and soft. He’d had little opportunity to touch her the night before and now fierce hunger rose in him. He tamped it down and settled for rubbing a thick strand of her chestnut hair between his fingers instead of pulling the sheet from her body and covering it with his own.
Lifting her hair to his mouth, he captured just a hint of her scent—flowers and spice—then he rubbed his thumb over the berry redness of her lips, tickling her until her eyelids fluttered.
Those eyes met his, soft and unfocused. A smile started to curve her mouth, then her eyes widened and he watched them clear as she glanced around.
“Good morning, love.”
A pink blush stained her cheeks.
“I’ve brought coffee and sweet rolls.”
She blinked again and her eyes slid to the dresser where the tray sat. Pulling the sheet up higher, she inadvertently drew Aidan’s eyes back to her bare skin.
“Shall I bring the tray?” he murmured, admitting defeat and leaning toward one creamy white shoulder.
Kate drew in a quick breath when his lips brushed over her skin. She smelled wonderful, warm and toasty, a much tastier breakfast than the one he’d brought. A shiver vibrated through her shoulder and into his mouth as he tasted her with his tongue, sucking to draw her skin between his teeth.
“You taste lovely in the morning,” he said against her shoulder, tugging the sheets down in small increments. They were torn from his fingers when she frantically yanked back.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m kissing my way down to your breasts. Once there, I plan on licking your nipples.”
“Aidan!”
Her horrified gasp made him sigh. “All right, then. I’ll just bring the tray, shall I?”
She looked pained when he set it down across her lap. “I’m sorry. I’m really not very good at this.”
“At what?”
“This kind of thing.”
“Eating breakfast?” His words were flat with innocence.
“No! I mean . . . this . . . affair.”
She looked adorable and very young all of a sudden with her tangled hair and downcast eyes. Despite her dishabille, he’d never seen her look so demure, not even as a seventeen-year-old virgin. Love, tenderness, and lust vied for domination in his heart; he wasn’t sure which motivated him to pick up one of her hands and press it to his mouth.
“Do you think I expect you to behave like a courtesan? To lounge about naked, awaiting my arrival?” He smiled at her when she glanced up.
“Of course not. It’s just . . . It seems a bit more awkward in the morning. It’s so bright in here.”
Aidan tried hard not to grin—the curtains were drawn; it was only a little brighter than it had been the night before.
“Oh, you’re laughing at me!” She picked up the tray as if to move it and rise indignantly from the bed, but she had no place to set it down.
No longer bothering to hide his laughter, he took the tray from her, set it quickly on the floor, then dropped himself on top of her before she could escape from the pile of sheets and blankets.
“You—!”
Dodging her flailing fists, he straddled her and trapped her securely beneath the bedclothes, pinning her hands against the pillow.
She squirmed and struggled at his laughter until she began laughing herself, gasping out breathless giggles.
“I know you’re not shy, Kate. You certainly weren’t last night. So I’ll assume it’s only the novelty that’s making you behave like a ninny.”
“A ninny!” Her voice was sharp with outrage, but her eyes shone. “I suppose your other lovers aren’t the least bit modest.”
Aidan looked down to avoid her eyes and the sight that awaited him immediately dissolved his guilt. Clearing his throat, he glanced back to her face. “It seems you have fought your way straight into immodesty, love.”
One glance down and she bleated in wordless horror.
Aidan happily followed the path of her gaze to the luscious, pink-tipped breast peeking out from beneath the bedclothes. “I think it’s looking for the attention it missed last night.”
Shocked into silence, Kate shook her head frantically.
He did purr then, dipping his head to suck her nipple firmly into his mouth. It hardened against his tongue and his body followed suit, thickening in eager response.
A flurry of sighs and gasps floated to his ears, spurring on his excitement. God, he’d wanted to do this so badly last night when she’d been poised above him, unselfconscious in her arousal.
He stroked her with his tongue and scraped his teeth against the sensitive bud, loving her body’s arching attempt to get closer.
When he released her hands, they flew up to grip his hair and hold him to her, while he pulled the damned sheets down and out of his way.
“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, lifting his head to attend to the other breast.
Kate moaned even as she pulled his hair sharply, moving his head away from her body. “Stop. Please!”
He blinked several times to clear the haze of lust from his mind and looked up to her strained face. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry. I . . . You have to leave the room.”
“What? Why would I do that?” He ducked his chin, ignoring the sharp pain in his scalp as he drew close to her nipple.
“Don’t. Don’t.”
With a great, heaving sigh, he cast a mournful last look at the tempting pinkness before sitting up. “What’s wrong?”
Kate’s face turned pink, then red. “I just need some privacy,” she finally blurted out.
“Oh,” he replied dumbly, then, “Oh!” He felt heat seep into his own face and stood quickly. “Of course.”
“Just go,” she muttered miserably, her hair hiding her face.
“Sorry.” Aidan hurried out of the room, slamming the door behind him, then grinned at how foolish he felt. All those lovers he’d gone through in the past years and now he was embarrassed by her need for the chamber pot. The grin widened. This sharing a bed business was interesting. How fascinating to be with someone night and day, to live with them as you lived with yourself, all the banal, commonplace trivialities exposed.
By the time the bedroom door opened he was past his fluster and feeling very cheerful. “Better?”
She cast him a look brimming with annoyance at his good humor.
“I’m sorry. I’m actually as unused to morning-after rituals as you.”
She nodded and set down the tray. Aidan felt a flash of regret, knowing she’d assume something far different from the truth, but he let the moment pass.
She’d donned her shift and a dressing gown before opening the door, much to his disappointment, but he was hopeful they’d be coming off later. There was the whole day ahead, after all.
They drank the marginally hot coffee and devoured the rolls, Aidan watching her greedily the whole time. He was fascinated by her, by the knowledge that he loved her, and he didn’t want to miss a thing. When he thought of her becoming a part of his family, he couldn’t stop the words.
“I love you, Kate.”
Her eyes went wide and he saw the clenching of her throat as she swallowed.
“You must know that.”
“No,” she breathed. Her head made a vague side-to-side movement. “I don’t.”
“There’s never been another woman in my home. I’ve never . . . You’re the only one who . . .”
She was shaking her head again. “Aidan—”
“This isn’t some phantom, Kate. It’s real. I won’t pretend otherwise.”
“I know that,” she said with sudden urgency. “I know it’s real. Do you think I don’t feel it?”
Thank God. Aidan relaxed back into his chair, his lungs already free enough to draw more air.
“If it wasn’t real, I’d never have come here. But it is so much more complicated than you know. My husband—”
“I spoke to someone,” he interrupted, leaning forward again in excitement. “I raised the question of divorce.”
Kate froze. The color in her cheeks seemed to dip beneath the surface, hiding itself from him.
“It might be a possibility,” he assured her. “Marissa’s new father-in-law is Duke—”
“A
duke?
” She surged to her feet.
He raised a hand to stop her, but she slapped it away.
“I told you to tell no one.
No one
. And you exposed me to a duke? How dare you?”
“I hardly exposed you. I only asked if he might be willing to sponsor your—”
“Aidan! You had no right.
None!
If my husband’s family finds out . . . Or my husband, of course . . . I told you not to pursue this!”
Aidan stood and paced to the window, trying to calm his temper, but he couldn’t understand her. “So you want to stay married?” he demanded. “You want to be Mrs. Hamilton, and I’ll be . . . what? The paramour you keep in a hidden cottage?”
“No! Why must you always see things in black and white?”
“What do you mean,
always?
”
“You know what I mean! You always have. When you could not get my father’s permission, you decided that was it. We could not marry, and it was over.”
Frustration rolled through him as a wave of fury. “We
couldn’t
marry! You were the one with no understanding. If we’d run to Gretna Green, your life would have been ruined! Both our reputations in shreds. I had no money, no house. How—”
“And,” she interrupted quietly, “how could that have been worse than this?”
The softness of her voice canceled out the words in his throat. The argument. The way to make her see that he was right. Kate watched him, her eyes sad and worn.
“But . . .” He shook his head. “How could I have known?”
“You couldn’t have. Just as you can’t know what will happen for us now. I only want you to see that you took that decision from me then. And I am done with letting others make decisions for me. I won’t have it.”
He wanted to argue further. Of course he would take back that decision if he could. Knowing what he knew now, he’d have carried her to Scotland and damn the consequences. She wasn’t being fair.
“I told you I wouldn’t make any attempt to divorce my husband. Even if I’ve changed my mind, it’s not up to you to force the issue.”
He stood straighter. “Have you changed your mind?”
Kate ducked her head. Two bright spots of pink returned to her cheeks. “I need time to think.”
The awful pain in his chest eased a little. She wasn’t saying no, which was more than she’d granted last time.
“And what of your family? They will not like being dragged into this. Your brother—”
“My brother will not give a damn. And my mother always adored you.”
“I only met your mother twice, and she didn’t know we were . . . so close.”
“She knew.”
Kate’s chin snapped up. “You told her? About us?”
“No, she saw me mooning about, and if anyone can recognize lovesickness it is my mother. How did you think I arranged that two-week visit to your neighbor’s estate? I told her that I was in love with you and she took over the scheming.”
Kate’s tense frown relaxed into a smile. “Did she?”
“Indeed.”
Her temper had eased, it seemed, and she lowered herself back into the chair with a sigh. “I may not be able to have children, you know.”
“Heirs are my brother’s duty, not mine.”