Читать книгу The Complete Regency Surrender Collection - Энни Берроуз, Louise Allen - Страница 99

Chapter Eleven

Gabriel had arrived home from Parliament and been sitting at his desk, staring at his only clue for what felt like hours. Something about the handwriting on the note found on the gunman tickled his brain, but he could not for the life of him determine what it was. Hopefully a quiet evening at home would lift his spirits.

* * *

By the time he emerged from his rooms dressed for dinner, he was looking forward to a pleasant meal and another night in his wife’s bed. From the staircase landing, his gaze travelled down and settled on Olivia, who was speaking with Bennett in the entrance hall.

Her shiny dark hair was swept up, exposing the creamy skin of her neck and graceful shoulders. Her gown was the colour of irises and her arms were visible through the long semi-opaque sleeves. As she turned towards the staircase, the diamonds around her neck sparkled in the candlelight and Gabriel was blessed with a delicious view of the upper curves of her breasts. His lips rose, knowing he would have her all to himself for the entire evening.

Then he spied the wrap Bennett was holding out for her. As he dashed down the stairs, she spotted him.

‘Where are you off to?’ he asked without even offering her a greeting.

She dismissed Bennett with a slight nod and their butler disappeared down the hall. ‘I am going to Vauxhall to meet friends for dinner and to see a performance of Madame Saqui.’

Was he acquainted with these friends? Deciding she looked much too enticing to be strolling about Vauxhall without him, he pulled the sides of her wrap together over her breasts. The fabric was warm and soft, and reminded him of her skin. To stop himself from touching her, he held onto the edges of her wrap.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked, looking down at his hands.

‘Making certain you do not catch a chill.’

She narrowed her eyes, but did not push his hands away. ‘That is very considerate of you. I suppose this concern has nothing to do with any late-night activities you are anticipating.’

‘I have no notion of which activities you are speaking of,’ he replied with what he hoped was an innocent expression. ‘You look quite beautiful this evening.’

Her body stiffened. ‘Thank you,’ she replied, backing away from him so he was forced to release her wrap.

Had he offended her? He had not intended to. ‘It is a cool evening. I shall inform your coachman to place a warm brick in your carriage.’

‘Comte Janvier has kindly offer to take me in his carriage, so there is no need to concern yourself.’

Every nerve in Gabriel’s body snapped to attention. Her phrasing could not have been worse. ‘He is to be your escort for the evening?’ he asked, raising his chin.

‘Yes, he was invited as well and offered to accompany me weeks ago.’

‘Well, I believe I shall wait with you and greet the Comte when he arrives.’

‘There is no need. You should go about your affairs.’ She walked away from him to the gilded mirror next to the door and adjusted her hair.

‘Dinner and a good book await me this evening. I am in no hurry.’ Not wanting her to witness his jealousy, he turned away and met the condescending gaze of his great-grandfather, staring down at him from a life-sized portrait of the man on horseback. Gabriel wanted to tell him to mind his own business. It was quite evident he was behaving like an overly protective bore, but she was his wife. His. He simply needed to be certain that Comte Janvier understood that.

A knock echoed through the marble hall and drew Gabriel’s attention to the front door. As he adjusted his cuffs, soft footsteps filled the hall, announcing Bennett’s arrival before he appeared.

‘You can leave now, Gabriel. I am certain that is Janvier and Bennett can manage the door.’ She addressed his reflection in the mirror and raised her brows expectantly.

‘I believe I will remain right where I am.’

She looked as if she was about to speak, but there was no time since Bennett had opened the door. Gabriel was standing out of Janvier’s line of vision when the man walked inside. Not that it would have mattered anyway since the Frenchman’s eyes were firmly fixed on Olivia. He couldn’t blame him. She was stunning. It was apparent to Gabriel that Janvier was considering the different ways he would like to take her. The man was perilously close to losing consciousness.

Gabriel cleared his throat. Janvier turned and his head snapped back as he realised Olivia’s husband was standing a few feet away.

‘Ah, Your Grace, what an unexpected surprise.’ He held out his hand.

Gabriel took his gloved hand and squeezed the man’s long, slender fingers tightly, wishing he could break a bone or two. When he released his grip, he was pleased to see Janvier wiggle his fingers around before placing them at his side.

‘It’s kind of you to accompany my wife this evening, since I will not be available to attend to her until she arrives home.’

He was staking his claim and Gabriel was satisfied to catch the understanding that crossed Janvier’s face.

‘I shall make every effort to ensure Her Grace’s every need is met.’

French bastard. ‘I shall have to recommend my tailor to you. Mr Weston cuts a very fine coat.’

A forced smile rose on Janvier’s lips. ‘That is very kind of you. However, I believe my tailor does an exceptional job.’

From the corner of his eye, Gabriel could see Olivia cross her arms. So they weren’t exactly being subtle. They were men. He turned to her and held out his hand. ‘I will see you into the carriage.’

He knew she was fighting a desire to turn around from both of them and stomp back up to her rooms. She placed her white-gloved hand onto his arm and, for the briefest instant, the pressure of her fingers dug through the sleeve of his tailcoat. He bit back a smile at her subtle silent statement.

They stopped a few feet from the carriage and waited for the footman to open the door. Gabriel leaned down and let a small puff of breath float over his wife’s ear and neck. ‘Hold on to some of that fire till you return, Livy. It will make for a most enjoyable night in bed.’

She glanced at her friend, but he was busy speaking with his coachman.

‘You are presuming I will allow you in my bed after that display,’ she scolded him in a low voice.

‘In order to have another child, I believe I need to be in your bed—frequently—if we are truly intent about this. One time probably was not sufficient.’

‘Perhaps it was sufficient. Perhaps I am already carrying a child.’

Our child. The child would be ours. Gabriel looked over at Janvier and wanted to plant a facer for all new reasons. ‘I believe it is best to keep trying until we are certain,’ he whispered back, taking her gloved hand to his lips, searching her eyes for even the slightest reaction.

Immediately, she pulled her hand away and readjusted her wrap. ‘You believe I can be so easily charmed after that display of male dominance? I am not a bone to be fought over by two dogs.’

‘No, you are not a possession. You are the woman I chose above all others to marry and would do so again without hesitation. I was simply reminding him that you are my Duchess and should he offend your honour in any way, he will answer to me.’

Janvier approached Olivia’s side and she shifted her attention to adjusting her gloves.

‘Shall we?’ Janvier asked, moving his gaze between Olivia and Gabriel.

‘Yes, let’s not keep our friends waiting.’

She allowed Gabriel to help her into the carriage. His eyes were still on her when Janvier edged past him.

‘I shall have her home before sun up,’ the Frenchman said as he entered the carriage and took his seat across from Olivia.

Gabriel gave a curt nod before he stepped back, allowing the footman to raise the step and close the door with a click. Within minutes, Comte Janvier’s carriage pulled away with his wife inside.

Striding into their house, Gabriel went directly to the dining room, needing to focus on the food and drink set before him and not on the fact that his wife, who might already be carrying his child, was out with another man. As Gabriel settled into his chair, Bennett nodded to one of the footmen to begin serving the first course.

‘Bennett, has Comte Janvier been a frequent guest of the Duchess?’

‘He has attended a few of her dinner parties.’

‘And has he escorted her anywhere else in his carriage.’

‘No, sir. This is the first time.’

Gabriel sat back on the red-velvet cushion of his chair and watched one of his footmen ladle turtle soup into his bowl. He knew that he and Olivia had lived separate lives under the same roof. In regards to his responsibility to the Crown that situation had made things infinitely easy for him. Yet seeing a man drive off in his carriage with Olivia had set the pulse in his temples pounding.

He knew they’d agreed to be monogamous with each other while they were trying to conceive another child. He trusted Olivia to hold to their agreement. What he did not trust was that slippery Frenchman.

Gabriel scraped his chair back suddenly, startling the footmen and Bennett. He walked to the window and looked out at the cobblestone street below. The sound of carriage wheels and men on horseback going to and fro could be heard through the glass. He had not lied to her. He would marry her all over again, even knowing it would lead to their estrangement. The time they had spent together during their courtship and before Nicholas was born was some of his happiest, before things went horribly wrong. Would it be possible to have that again?

He should have insisted on going with her. He should not have handed her into the care of that wolf. It was too late now.

Drawing in a deep breath, Gabriel turned and slowly walked to the table. Sitting back in his chair, he reminded himself that Olivia was very capable of handling men.

* * *

By the time Olivia and Janvier left Vauxhall a soft rain had begun to fall. In the dim light and the gentle sway of the comfortable carriage Olivia should have felt completely relaxed. She’d had a pleasant dinner with friends and enjoyed an entertaining performance. Unfortunately the spectre of her husband had hovered over her all evening.

When Gabriel had asked her about her plans, good breeding had almost prompted her to suggest he join their little party. She’d had to bite her lip to prevent the words from escaping. There was no reason to foster a friendship with him when their reconciliation was only temporary.

Then she heard his voice rattling around in her brain once more. You are the woman I chose above all others to marry and would do so again without hesitation.

She rubbed her brow and mentally berated herself. Giving in to thoughts of Gabriel could only lead to confusion and heartache. She couldn’t trust him. Those were simply pretty words that fell from his lips to charm her. He was not sincere.

If only being around him hadn’t felt so wonderful.

Her thoughts drifted to the kiss he’d placed on her hand. She could not deny that simple kiss on her gloved hand had left her body anticipating more of his touch. What was wrong with her? She hadn’t even felt the warmth of his lips through the kidskin, just the pressure, and suddenly she felt eager to be home. She rubbed her knuckles, trying to erase the sensation.

‘I shall venture to blame the hour on your silence and not my company,’ Janvier said with a smile as he watched her from across the carriage.

Pulling her thoughts from Gabriel’s lips, Olivia gazed at her friend. ‘Forgive me, your carriage is quite comfortable and the hour is late. I fear the combination of the two has made me rather sleepy.’

‘It pleases me that you are so relaxed in my presence. I could sit beside you and you could rest your head on my shoulder. I would gladly be your cushion.’

‘That would not be proper though, would it?’

‘No one will see. We are alone. My staff is trained to knock before they open the door. Do not concern yourself with what they would think if we are discovered together.’

Before she could object, Janvier moved across the carriage and settled himself next to her, pressing his thigh against hers. The scent of bay rum followed his movement. There was no denying he was an attractive and charming man who probably would make an ideal lover if she were so inclined. Wondering about how his kisses would compare to Gabriel’s, Olivia let her gaze drop to his smooth, full lips.

A small devilish grin creased the corners of his mouth. ‘My shoulder is at the ready.’

‘I do not believe I am that tired.’

‘Shall I return to my side of the carriage?’

She shook her head. ‘I am no longer the young ingénue.’

‘Were you ever naïve? Somehow I think you were born with an air of sophistication.’

‘That is because we met when I am already at such an advanced age.’

Janvier’s laughter improved her mood. Friends could do that. ‘You are far from your dotage.’

‘That is reassuring to hear. I simply meant you did not know me when I was a young girl. I suppose, like most, I harboured romantic fantasies.’

‘And now?’

‘And now I understand the realities of life.’

He shook his head. ‘In life there is always room for romance.’

‘Is there? I do believe I have long disregarded that notion.’

‘Perhaps you need to be reminded.’

His lips were touching hers before she even realised he’d moved. The only sound was the raindrops pinging off the carriage roof and the turning of the carriage wheels over the cobblestones.

She was so stunned by the soft, coaxing seduction that it took her a few moments to react. Realising he was actually kissing her, Olivia pushed against his chest and pulled her head back.

Before she could issue him a set down, Janvier spoke. ‘Forgive me. I misunderstood the direction of our conversation. I assure you, I meant no disrespect.’

The sly man had already stopped her from accusing him of being insolent and issuing a slap across his face. Years of wearing a polite mask made it easy for her to appear completely composed. ‘Let us be clear, I have no intention of beginning a liaison with you. I enjoy your company, but if you are seeking something more we should part ways.’

Janvier slid across the carriage and resumed his seat. ‘I understand. I hope you will continue to allow us to be friends.’

‘As long as we understand one another.’

‘We do. It will not happen again.’

The carriage came to an abrupt halt and as predicted there was a knock on the door. Once Janvier uttered his consent, the door to the carriage opened and the steps were lowered. ‘Until I see you again,’ he said, tipping his head respectfully.

Olivia nodded and allowed the footman to assist her onto the wet pavement as he held a large umbrella over her. Placing a hand on her stomach, she took a deep breath of the damp air and looked up at the vast expanse of her house. There were times when thoughts of retreating to the country with no men for miles appeared to be an excellent notion.

* * *

By this time of night, the fire in Gabriel’s study had died to a low flame. Hours before, he’d discarded his coat and reclined in his most comfortable chair in casual elegance, resting his feet on an embroidered footstool. Tonight he had chosen to reread the Iliad while he sipped his favourite port. He should have been completely relaxed. Except every so often, his attention was drawn to the bracket clock on the mantel.

Eventually Bennett informed him that Comte Janvier’s carriage had pulled up to the house. Glancing at the clock, Gabriel snapped his book shut and took note of the late hour. He walked into the entrance hall just as Olivia began to climb the stairs. She appeared lost in thought. He called her name softly, but she continued her ascent. He called to her again, this time a bit louder.

She jumped and turned towards him. This was not the way he would have preferred to begin seducing her. She approached him slowly, her concentration fixed on unbuttoning her gloves.

He searched for something to ask instead of questioning why she had remained out till such a late hour, making him worry for her safety. ‘Did you enjoy Madame Saqui?’

‘She was exceptional as always.’ The buttons on her right glove seemed to hold great interest and he realised she had yet to look him in the eye.

‘Would you care for my assistance with those?’

Her eyes finally met his and she smiled politely. ‘No, thank you. Were you on your way upstairs, or did my arrival disturb your work?’

He wondered if he was persistent in questioning her, if she would tell him what was occupying her thoughts. It was obvious something was troubling her.

‘I was just reading and heard you come in. Would you care to join me?’

She hesitated before she nodded and walked past him towards his study. Once inside she dropped those troublesome gloves on the table beside the chair he had vacated and walked towards the fire to warm her hands. Her delicate profile was illuminated in the soft glow and Gabriel took advantage of the opportunity to study the slope of her nose and her enticing bow of her lips.

Realising Janvier must have done nothing to warm her during their ride home, Gabriel went to the table near his desk and removed the stopper from the crystal decanter housing his favourite port. His gaze continued to shift to her as he poured the wine into a glass. By the time he reached her side it appeared her attention was back to her surroundings.

He held the glass out to her. ‘This should warm you.’

‘Thank you, although I truly am not that cold.’

Could her quiet demeanour be a result of his actions with Janvier? If he wanted to regain her favour, he needed to extend an olive branch of sorts. He was not accustomed to apologising, but there were times it was necessary.

‘Please forgive my behaviour with the Comte earlier this evening. I only wished to ensure that he would treat you with the utmost respect.’

She looked up from her glass. ‘You had said as much before I left. I accept your apology.’ Their eyes held as she slowly took a sip. Her small smile peeked out from the rim. ‘Giving a woman port while entertaining her in your study, what would people say?’

‘Some might say I am a man bent on seduction,’ he said with a quirk of his lips.

‘Only some?’

‘The others would just be shocked.’

‘For inviting a lady into your sacred domain or for plying her with port?’

‘Could I ply you with port to seduce you?’

Olivia slowly shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. ‘You forget that I am quite familiar with your methods.’

Their verbal sparring matches always made him smile. She looked away suddenly. He placed a finger on the side of her jaw and directed her gaze back to him.

‘And what are my methods?’

‘You will see that I drink just enough wine to lower my inhibitions sufficiently so that I agree to do things that, in the light of day, I would never consider.’

The air left Gabriel’s lungs and he laughed. ‘Well, Duchess, I am very familiar with you and know even without the assistance of drink you have done things no proper Duchess would ever consider doing in the light of day. You cannot blame wine for your actions.’

‘I have no idea what you are referring to,’ she said, raising her brows innocently. ‘I believe you have reached an age that causes one’s memory to falter.’

‘Is that so? So you never swam naked with me in a pond in Kent and then ravaged me on the shoreline?’

‘Ravaged is such a strong word.’

‘And you never tied me to your bed with your stockings while I slept, so I would be late for my morning appointments?’

‘As I recall you were late for all your appointments that day.’

‘Because we never left your bed.’

‘That was not entirely my fault.’

‘And then there was the time you dismissed the staff from serving dinner in the dining room.’

‘I simply wanted to converse with you without being overheard.’

‘Because you wanted to discuss which dessert tasted better on your skin.’

‘A discussion that should not be had in the presence of servants. Every Duchess is aware of that rule.’

‘What about the time you crawled onto my lap in a moving carriage of your own volition and whispered sweet suggestions in my ear, leaving me no choice but to take you then and there?’

She stilled, then sauntered to the chair he had recently vacated. His gaze was drawn to her shapely bottom, the curve of which would appear as she moved.

‘You appear to remember quite a bit of what I did years ago,’ she said.

‘You did some very memorable things. In fact, if memory serves, during one visit to see my parents did you not—’

‘Yes. Yes. You made your point. You had your moments as well.’

The annoyance in her tone made Gabriel laugh. He stepped closer, and she pick up his leather-bound book and cocked her head to read the spine.

‘How many times have you read this?’

‘I have lost count. In any event, that is Cowper’s version. It’s closest to the original text,’ he replied defensively.

She tossed the book on the table and reclined back in his chair. ‘I had forgotten how comfortable this chair was. It almost begs one to curl up with a book and not be proper.’ There was sadness in her eyes, as if she too had missed the happy times they had spent together.

‘And how improper did you want to be?’ he asked as his body was pulled by an invisible force to stand in front of her.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. ‘I was referring to my posture.’

‘So was I,’ he replied, flashing her a devilish grin.

She shifted her gaze back to the fireplace. If only he knew what was whirling through that mind of hers. Perhaps he could distract her enough to erase the sadness in her eyes.

Slowly he removed the glass from her hand and placed it on the table. This didn’t seem to improve her mood, but he wasn’t finished. Lifting her effortlessly into his arms, he resumed his seat and settled her on his lap with her legs draped over the armrest. Then he handed her back her glass.

‘You were in my chair.’ It was as much an explanation of his action as he was willing to admit to her. He guided her hand with the glass to his mouth and took a sip of port.

‘I did not agree to share that with you,’ she said with a furrowed brow.

‘Would you care to have the wine back? I believe if you slip your tongue into my mouth you may taste some of the remnants.’

A smile tugged on the corner of her lips. ‘I am in a generous mood. You may keep the wine you have stolen.’

‘Unlike you, I do not mind sharing.’

She hid her smile with the rim of the glass and was forward enough to lick her lips slowly after taking a sip. It would be miraculous if she didn’t feel his arousal underneath that beautiful bottom of hers.

He wanted her. He wanted to taste those lips. He wanted to feel the softness of her skin. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her and not pull out until they both were completely spent.

Taking his finger, he angled her face towards him and lowered his lips to hers. At first he had to coax her to open up to him, but it didn’t take long before she was participating fully in the kiss—tasting like hot cherries from the port. Could he ever be this close to her without wanting to lose himself in her?

She pushed against his chest and he reluctantly pulled back.

‘I have no desire to ruin my gown with wine.’ She sat up and placed her glass on the table next to them. But instead of resuming their kiss she rested her head on his chest.

Did that kiss have no effect on her at all? Gabriel stared up at the ceiling debating if he should kiss her again. Then he felt Olivia’s fingers work on the knot at his throat.

‘Do not assume I am doing anything more than ensuring that I am not the only one who is slightly dishevelled,’ she said.

‘I would not dream of it.’

She wasn’t dishevelled in the least, but he wasn’t about to point that out.

As she sat up, she unwound the linen from his neck and carelessly dropped it over the side of his chair. ‘You looked a bit uncomfortable,’ she explained, placing her head back on his shoulder, her soft hair tickling his neck. ‘You are not considering picking that up and folding it neatly, are you?’

Surprisingly he hadn’t been, until she mentioned it, and then he sneaked a glance towards the rumpled linen on the floor and resisted the urge to pick it up. The graceful fingers of her left hand parted the opening of his shirt and she softly combed her nails around his neck.

He should not be the only one missing some attire. That hardly seemed fair. Knowing where he would begin, he trailed his hand over the curve of her hip, down her lovely leg to her dainty feet, where he removed one and then the other shoe.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I am simply returning the favour.’

‘Your heart is beating rather quickly. Are you well?’ she asked in an amused voice.

He skimmed his fingers up her leg to the back of her knee and was rewarded when she shivered. ‘I am well. Although I could be very well.’

‘Is there such a thing as being very well?’ Her warm fingers slid along his collarbone and traced the veins of his neck.

Closing his eyes at the sensation, he knew for certain there was such a thing as being very well. She enjoyed playing the unaffected minx, but when his fingers slid between her thighs he was pleased to discover she was slick.

Her body stilled and she parted her legs further for him. As he slid one and then a second finger inside her she clenched his collar. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out, spreading her wetness.

‘I believe this might constitute being very well,’ he commented with a satisfied grin.

‘It might,’ she moaned, moving her hips to his rhythm.

‘Now that hardly sounds promising. I think I need to try harder.’

‘Harder, yes.’

He pumped his fingers more forcefully. Her legs began to tremble. She was rubbing her face on his shoulder like a kitten and he was uncertain who wanted her to come more. He loved knowing he could make her feel this way.

‘Come for me, Livy.’

She crushed her lips to his. The kiss was urgent and demanding, and within seconds he swallowed her cry.

Gabriel kissed her softly. The small kisses she gave in return gave him hope that she still felt this burning attraction whenever they were together.

He cradled her in his arms. There were nights early in their marriage when he had held her in unguarded moments just like this. ‘I want you, Livy. I want you now.’

Her eyes met his. ‘Then let us go to bed.’

‘I cannot wait.’

‘Where would you like me?’

‘Here, in this chair.’

She appeared amused by his statement—amused and intrigued. ‘In this chair?’

‘You did say it was comfortable. I believe you remember how it is done.’

She glared at him until the corner of her lips twitched. ‘I do believe that would be highly improper for people of our station.’

Gabriel lowered his mouth so his lips were less than an inch from hers. ‘Blame it on the wine.’

He kissed her again, savouring her sweet taste. As she shifted on his lap, the friction did wonders for what was inside his breeches. Her hands were in his hair and his hands held the sides of her face, not wanting her to pull away.

She shifted again. Now she was straddling him, with her gown tangled up between them. He always loved this position and slid his hands around her to cup her bottom. She undid the buttons of his waistcoat as he trailed slow kisses along her jaw on the way to her neck. His tongue licked her skin. Every inch of her tasted like heaven.

Olivia worked frantically on the last few buttons of his waistcoat before she cried out in frustration. A gentleman’s duty was always to assist a lady in need. Pushing her hands aside, he pulled hard at the opening of his waistcoat. Buttons popped and flew to the floor.

Before long his waistcoat was off and all he could think about was losing himself inside her. She pulled his shirt over his head and it went sailing somewhere to his left.

They were kissing again and her warm hands slid over his chest. She had too many layers of clothing on. He reached for her breasts. Her stays had pushed them up so a good amount of them were already exposed. His hands were trying to lift them from their confines, but Olivia’s bloody dressmaker had her body secured tightly in her gown.

Gabriel moved his hands and tried to unfasten all the tiny corded loops on her back. It felt like hours before he was able to slide the sleeves of her gown down her shoulders. She pushed against his chest, stood and shimmied out of her gown till it pooled at her feet.

If their heated kisses hadn’t made his body burn, the outline of Olivia’s curvaceous form through her chemise with the light from the fireplace behind her was incinerating him.

Jumping to his feet, he kissed her hard, trying to give his body time to calm down enough so he wasn’t throwing her over the chair and pounding into her.

She moaned and it almost did him in.

He tugged on the silk ribbon of her stays and she broke the kiss to remove it. Their eyes locked. He took hold of the linen near her thigh, lifted her chemise over her head and threw it behind her. A faint whoosh sound came from the fireplace and the firelight flared. They looked in unison as the remnants of her chemise were swallowed up by the flames. She shifted her open-mouthed stare to him, then pressed her lips firmly together.

‘I’ll buy you twenty more,’ he said and sucked on the tip of her breast until her back bowed.

She was so warm—and tasted so good. He practically tore off his trousers before he lavished attention on the other breast. He needed to be inside her and he was going to do it now in that chair. Olivia let out a soft gasp when he picked her up and tugged her down onto his lap.

Within minutes she shifted and straddled him again. The feel of her warmth as she slid down over him brought a groan from his lips. He didn’t even need to move her. She was setting a rhythm on her own. He was in heaven. Nothing existed outside this room and the only thing he was aware of was the woman above him. He dropped his head back as she picked up the pace and rotated her hips. His hands fell away at his sides. She could do anything to him at that moment and he would let her. He would grant her any request.

It was impossible to steady his breathing when he watched himself enter Olivia—again and again. The delicious friction would soon be his undoing.

He needed to go deeper inside of her and coaxed her to shift positions so she was kneeling on the seat of the wingback chair facing away from him and he was standing behind her. The first time he entered her, he drove himself so deep he almost came with that first thrust. He tried to hold back his release as long as he could, entering her again and again. Eventually his mind shattered into a million pieces as he came. When she let out a raspy cry and her body collapsed against the chair, he knew she had found her pleasure again.

Dropping his head down on her back, he wrapped his arms tightly around her limp form. The erratic pounding of her heart matched his own. He had no notion how long they remained that way, just that he had the strongest desire not to let her go—ever. It was a notion that unsettled him.

Eventually he released her. Her cascading sable hair shone in the firelight, the pins were lost somewhere in and around his chair. She looked sinful. She looked like a woman thoroughly satisfied. She looked like a woman he would have an impossible time putting aside again.

He sat back in the chair, cradling her on his lap.

When her lips rose into a mischievous grin, that dimple he always adored appeared on her left cheek. ‘This was entirely your idea.’

‘I take full responsibility for the state you are in,’ he replied, placing a kiss on her nose.

‘Good. I am glad we agree I was the innocent party in this episode.’

‘If I do not contradict that statement, will you agree to such episodes in the future?’

She ran her fingers through the strands of his hair. Gabriel was positive it was standing on ends, making him look rather ridiculous. ‘You burned my chemise,’ she stated simply.

‘You made me ruin one of my favourite waistcoats and I have a neckcloth lying on the floor.’

‘What will the servants think?’ she teased.

He trailed a finger down her neck to the swell of her breasts and then the valley between. ‘I’d venture to think the maids will be shocked to finds buttons and pins scattered around this rug come morning.’

She really had beautiful breasts. Just as he began circling the tip of one with his finger, it hardened to a delicious bud. He would never grow tired of eliciting a reaction from her.

‘We should go upstairs,’ she suggested. ‘The staff will be up and about soon, and I would not want them finding us like this.’

She was just too tempting. He lowered his mouth and ran his tongue around her nipple. ‘Like what?’

She pushed his shoulder playfully. ‘Do stop, Gabriel, unless you can finish what you are attempting to start.’

He placed his hand over his heart. ‘You wound me, madam.’

‘Your sense of self-worth is quite large. You can easily withstand the small wounds I can inflict.’

But could he? And why did Gabriel get the sense that the wounds she could inflict on him were worse than those given by anyone else?

He helped her to stand. ‘The rain has stopped.’ Then he glanced down. ‘I am still wearing my shoes and stockings.’

‘It appears so. At least you will have an easier time dressing. What will I do without my chemise?’

‘Here.’ He picked up his shirt and lowered it over her body. The hem came down to her knees.

‘I am not even remotely respectable in this.’

He looked up from buttoning his trousers. She was right. If anything she looked wanton—like a woman who knew how to coax a man into her bed and keep him there for days. Her breasts were visible through the linen of his shirt, and he instinctively licked his lips.

‘See.’

‘It’s late. No one will see you. However if you truly are that concerned how you look...’ He took his waistcoat with the missing buttons and helped her into it. Then he picked up his cravat and draped it loosely around her neck a few times. ‘That’s better.’

She eyed him sideways. ‘Somehow I do not believe I would be admitted to Almack’s dressed like this.’

‘Dressed like that, it would be best if I never saw you anywhere near Almack’s—or anywhere else for that matter.’ Thoughts of her in Manning’s studio flooded his brain and he unclenched his fist.

‘Never fear, I can assure you this will be the last time I will be wearing your clothes.’

The statement, uttered so casually, left him disconcerted. Focusing his attention on his wife’s bottom as she bent down to retrieve her slippers and gown, Gabriel ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, making her jump.

‘Are you trying to seduce me, Gabriel? At your age, I would think you would not have the stamina.’

‘I think we should find out.’

When he grabbed for her as she ran to the door, her laughter filled the room. He cursed his stupidity for not locking the door earlier when he invited her inside.

He was about to throw her over his shoulder to take her up to his bedchamber and prove to her that he had the stamina of a young buck, when he noticed she stood frozen in the open doorway. Stepping behind her, he looked over her head and saw a flustered Bennett with one of the upstairs maids. The young girl’s eyes were wide as she looked at Olivia and they opened wider when she spotted Gabriel’s bare chest.

Quickly he pushed Olivia behind him and motioned for them to enter the room as if nothing unusual had occurred. Turning slowly while keeping Olivia behind him, he backed her out into the darkened hall and closed the door.

‘I wonder if Bennett will ever recover?’ she mused.

‘He has been exposed to our scandalous ways in the past.’

‘Yes, but I do not recall him ever finding us in such a state.’

‘Colette appears to have recovered nicely from her shock. The last time I saw her, she bobbed her curtsy to me with only a slight blush.’

‘Well, she did see a rather different side of you.’

Gabriel shifted uncomfortably, recalling how much of his backside his wife’s maid saw.

‘What time do you suppose it is?’ she asked.

From the window at the end of the hall, faint rays of light were casting bluish squares onto the floor. ‘Four?’

‘No, that cannot be possible.’

‘You did arrive home rather late. It must be four. Bennett watches over the cleaning of my study every morning at four.’

Olivia stopped ahead of him on the stairs. ‘Why?’

He gently prodded her to keep walking. ‘Why what?’

‘Why does Bennett oversee the maid?’

‘There are times I leave my papers about. He makes certain they are left undisturbed.’

‘But why not Mrs Mitchell? She is our housekeeper. I would think she would oversee the cleaning of your study.’

Why did she have to be so astute? ‘Because Bennett has been seeing to the study of the Duke of Winterbourne ever since I can remember. It is simply his domain.’

When they reached her bedchamber there was a distinct hesitation before she looked up at him. ‘Will you be coming inside?’

He reached around her and opened the door. As much as he wanted to, Gabriel knew he could not sleep for long. He had much to do. If he left her bed two hours from now, he might disturb her sleep. Or worse yet, sleeping next to Olivia might cause him to oversleep. He shook his head and kissed her cheek. ‘I will only disturb you when I rise.’

Was that disappointment he saw cross her face? In the dim light it was difficult to tell.

‘Very well, but I will be awake before seven for my portrait session.’

Muscles that had been wonderfully relaxed suddenly tightened up. He was just about to ask her why she was torturing him, when she placed a finger to his lips.

‘I assure you. No one will know I sat for it when it is exhibited. There is even the slight chance Mr West will not agree to include it.’

One could only hope.

They entered her room and he closed the door behind them. ‘Does Colette know she is to tell no one of your association with the painting?’

‘Of course.’

He should forbid her from continuing to sit for the artist, but it was clearly something that brought her joy. How could he cause her any more sorrow?

He tasted her lips one last time before pulling away and striding to the door to his bedchamber. As he placed his hand on the cool metal of the handle, he had the strongest urge to have one last look at her. She had not moved from where he had left her. ‘I may allow for these sittings, Livy, but I do not have to like it.’

* * *

When the door closed, Olivia’s slippers and clothes fell from her hands. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to erase the memory of him standing near her bed without his shirt. His scent was on the shirt he’d placed on her, and she rubbed her arms over the soft linen. Instead of tearing it off, she decided it would be comfortable to sleep in.

She lit one of the candles flanking the mirror on her dressing table and peered at her reflection. She looked like a woman who’d spent the night rolling around in bed with her lover—only they had not used a bed—and those memories would not be easy to forget.

Closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead didn’t help. Breathing deeply made no difference either. Every nerve in her body was tingling because she couldn’t stop thinking about having Gabriel deep inside of her. She groaned and lowered her head to her arms.

Going back to a celibate life after they conceived another child was supposed to be the easy part. Now Olivia wasn’t sure that would be true. Her body felt alive again. Making love to him made her feel desirable. It made her feel powerful. It was addictive—or perhaps that was Gabriel.

Janvier had kissed her. Olivia knew if she showed the least bit of encouragement he would take her to his bed—or in his carriage. She did not believe he would be very particular.

But she felt nothing from his kiss; no spark of passion, no desire to straddle him and no fierce need to have him all to herself. Those feelings were reserved for her husband.

Gabriel had said some lovely things to her tonight. He’d even apologised for his behaviour—an act that was unprecedented. Why was he being so nice?

Olivia grabbed her hairbrush and pulled it through her hair with forceful strokes, attempting to rattle her brain enough that she would stop considering his feelings about her. She was a grown woman who understood how the world worked. It was rare to have a marriage based on love. There were only a few marriages she knew of that were. While it might be painful to witness the looks those men gave their wives, long ago she’d accepted her husband would never look at her that way. She had been dealt a different hand in life and now she accepted that.

She was giving herself a headache, not to mention her eyes were having trouble staying open. Blowing out the candles, she crawled under the blankets and arranged all the pillows snugly around her. Their weight and warmth made her feel secure. Closing her eyes, she wondered if she really would manage to wake before seven o’clock.