“Abby,” he growled, furious at the tightening he felt in his gut. Would she forever drive him insane?
“That growl…” Her eyes widened, then softened. “Your roguish tendencies turn my insides to jelly, did you know that?”
“I did not growl!” Against his will, his arm drew into his body, pulling her with it.
“Yes, you did. What are you doing?” she gasped when he licked the very edge of her lips. “You intend to ravish me, do you not?”
His half-drunken brain was inundated with the warmth of her slender body, the soft scent of her, and the voice he loved. Her cries in orgasm were enough to make his cock weep with joy. It was leaking even now, he was so aroused, and she had done nothing to make him feel this way. It was simply her. Something indefinable about her.
“No,” he murmured in her ear. “I intend to fuck you.”
“Rhys!”
When he released her wrist and reached for her breast, he was not surprised to find her nipple hard against his palm. Those long, delicious nipples. He pulled her to the floor.
“What? Here?” Her shock would have made him laugh, if he weren’t concentrating so fiercely on yanking her skirts out of the way. “On the rug? What about the bed?”
“Next time.”
Finding her slick and hot, Rhys began to work his cock into her with a groan of surrender. Abby whimpered softly.
“Will you regret this, too?” she asked, squirming beneath him.
He knew she was sore, could feel how swollen her tissues were, but could not desist. Watching her as he forced her body to take him, he nearly drowned in those blue eyes with their golden flecks. “Never,” he vowed.
“You lied earlier.” Her smile was brilliant and watery with renewed tears. “I have never been so happy to have been lied to.”
He had never been so happy either.
Which was a torment worse than hell itself.
Unwilling to leave Isabel after her apparent upset the night before, Gerard found himself walking several feet behind her as the Hammond party left their horses with grooms and walked to a location prepared for an alfresco picnic. Dressed in flowered muslin with a large satin bow at the back and a wide-brimmed straw hat upon her upswept auburn tresses, his wife looked both elegant and young. The latter effect was enhanced by her sparkling eyes and wide smile.
That he was responsible for her look of contentment was astonishing to him. Prior to four years ago, he had never pleased anyone but himself, and he’d never in his life made a woman happy outside of sexual intercourse. He had no notion how he’d managed the deed. He knew only that he would continue to keep her so blissful if it killed him.
To wake to Isabel pressing kisses to his chest with laugher in her eyes was beyond heavenly. To feel her turn to him, snuggle with him, reach for him when she grew cold…It was a type of intimacy he hadn’t known existed, and he had found it with his wife, the most beautiful and wonderful woman in the world. He deserved it less than anyone, but he had it. And he would cherish it. Spilling his seed inside her had been a foolhardy lapse, one he would not repeat. He could not risk impregnating her.
Glancing aside, he studied Trenton and said, “You still look morose. The country air not working its wonders on you?”
“No,” Trenton grumbled, frowning. “My ailment cannot be cured by fresh air or anything else.”
“What kind of ailment is that?”
“The female kind.”
Laughing, Gerard said, “I hope to be slowly developing a cure for that myself. Unfortunately, I doubt it would help you if I do.”
“Once Isabel discovers a dalliance on your part,” Trenton warned ominously, “the saints above will not be able to cure you.”
Gerard came to an abrupt halt and waited for Trenton to face him. The rest of the party continued on until they were quite alone. “Is that what you told my wife last night? That I would stray?”
“No.” Trenton stepped closer. “I merely told her to be practical.”
“Isabel is one of the most pragmatic women I know.”
“Then you do not know her well.”
“Beg your pardon?”
Trenton smiled wryly and shook his head. “Isabel is a romantic, Grayson. She always has been.”
“Are we talking about my wife? The woman who discards men who become too attached to her?”
“Lovers and spouses are two very different things, would you not agree? She will become attached to you if you continue on your present course. And women can be positively demonic when their affections are rebuffed.”
“Attached to me?” Gerard asked softly as wonder filled him. If this morning’s playful affection was any indication of what Pel was like when attached, he wanted more of it. All of it. Today was the best day of his life. What if all of his days could be like this one? “I’ve no intention of rebuffing her. I want her, Trenton. I intend to keep her happy.”
“To the exclusion of all others? Nothing less will content her. For some unknown reason, she has odd delusions of love and fidelity in marriage. She certainly did not learn that in our family. From faery tales, perhaps, but not from a firm grounding in reality.”
“No others,” Gerard said, distracted. He looked ahead, wishing he could see his wife from this vantage. As if she felt his silent demand for the sight of her, she appeared and waved, causing him to take an involuntary step toward her.
“You are champing at the bit,” Trenton observed.
“How should I win her heart?” Gerard asked. “With wine and roses? What do women consider romantic?”
Wildflowers picked as afterthoughts and off-the-top-of-his-head poems had lured Em, but his goals were different now, more important. He could not leave this to chance. Everything for Isabel had to be perfect.
“You are asking me?” Trenton’s eyes widened. “How the devil would I know? I’ve never in my life wanted a woman to fall in love with me. Damned inconvenient when they do.”
Gerard frowned. Pel would know and he longed to ask her, just as he had always turned to her for advice and her opinions. But in this instance, he was quite definitely on his own. “I will puzzle it out.”
“I am glad you appreciate her, Grayson. I often wondered what Pelham was looking for outside of wedlock when he had Isabel so smitten within it. He was a god to her in the beginning.”
“He was an idiot. I am no god to Pel. She is well aware of all my shortcomings. If she can see past them, it will be a miracle.” He began walking and Trenton fell into step beside him.
“I would think that to love a person in spite of their faults, rather than because you cannot see those faults, would be the deeper of the two attachments.”
Considering that thought a moment, Gerard broke out in a grin. Which faded as they rounded a large tree and he saw Hargreaves speaking with Isabel. She laughed at something said to her, and the earl’s returning look was both open and fond. They stood together with an obvious familiarity.
Inside him, something twisted and churned. His fists clenched. Then she saw him, and excused herself, moving toward him swiftly.
“What delayed you?” she asked, taking his arm with blatant ownership.
The writhing thing inside him quieted and he exhaled audibly. He wished he were alone with her, talking with her as they had last night when they’d returned to their rooms. Lying in bed with Pel curled to his side and their fingers linked over his chest, he had told her about Emily. Told her about what he had discovered about himself, and listened to her assurances and voice of reason.
“You are not a bad man,” she had said. “Merely one who was young and in need of adoration after living with a mother who could do nothing but chastise you.”
“You make it sound so simple.”