The Bedding Proposal Part 17

He barked out a laugh. "Am I? I believe this is the first time anyone has ever accused me of being an intellectual anything. My professors at university would vehemently disagree."

"Only, I suspect, because that is what you wished them to think. Why is that? Were you merely bored or is there another reason you conceal your obvious erudition? You did promise not to lie to me, remember?"

Some of his relaxed nonchalance fell away. It was time, he decided, to redirect the conversation.

"And I shan't," he said. "But come, how did we start talking about me when there are far more fascinating subjects? Your ankle, for instance? How is it feeling? Still painful?"

Her sable eyebrows drew close. "A bit, yes. I nearly forgot about the pain during dinner, but now that you ask, it has started aching again."

"Then I would advise a spirituous bedtime draught. A hot brandied milk perhaps to help you drift off into a deep sleep. Or would you prefer a b.u.t.tered rum instead?"

"Neither. I rarely drink anything stronger than wine and I have already had enough of that tonight."

"But you are hurting, so a mug of something stronger won't cause any harm. Listen to Dr. Leo and do as you are told." He stood and crossed to the bellpull.

"You are not a doctor," she said in an amused voice.

He rang the bell. "True. But you've been following my medical advice all day, so why stop now? Have I steered you wrong so far?"

"No, but-"

"Then there is nothing to do except choose. Hot b.u.t.tered rum or brandied milk? My guess is you'd enjoy the milk more, but it is entirely up to you."

"How generous of you to give me any say in the matter at all," she said, her words dripping with sarcasm.

"It is, is it not?"

She shook her head and laughed. The sound went straight to his loins, making him realize that he didn't need anything but her to warm him up.

"Very well, the milk," she said.

"With a dash of nutmeg?"

"Most definitely."

Chapter 15.

More than an hour later, Thalia lay dozing against the divan cus.h.i.+ons. Her stomach was comfortably full of warm milk and brandy, the alcohol having done its work so there was scarcely any pain in her ankle.

A robust fire burned in the grate, an indulgence she'd allowed herself tonight because of Lord Leopold's visit. Usually she settled for a modest blaze that died out an hour or two after dinner. Once it did, she would wrap up in a thick woolen shawl to keep away the draughts. But tonight, the room was luxuriantly warm and cozy with no need for extra clothing.

It was so comfortable, in fact, that Hera had broken her usual rule about avoiding strangers and strolled in on silent cat feet. Rather than heading straight for her favorite chair, she'd stopped first to greet Leo, winding around his legs as Hera was wont to do with her.

"How remarkable," Thalia had said. "I've never seen her be so friendly with someone she doesn't know. Generally she hides in another part of the house if I have a visitor. I hope she isn't bothering you."

"Not at all," he'd said as he reached down and ran a palm over the length of Hera's back and tail.

The cat began to purr.

Thalia had watched, knowing something of how Hera must feel. Lord Leo did seem to have a real gift when it came to giving females pleasure.

"Do you have any pets?" she'd asked, hoping her voice didn't sound as strained to him as it did to her.

He glanced up, Hera still purring happily beneath his hand. "Not here in London, no. But my little sister, Esme, keeps a veritable menagerie of animals at Braebourne, so I get my fill of furry company whenever I go back to visit.

"I've considered getting a dog," he said as Hera gave a contented little meow, then moved away to jump into her chair near the fireplace. "Perhaps there will be a likely puppy in need of a home when I go for the Christmas holidays."

"I hope so. Animals are wonderful company and they are never cruel or deceitful. Be kind to them and they will be kind back. If only people were so admirable in their dealings, just think how much better the world would be."

He'd gazed at her then, a thoughtful expression in his eyes.

Luckily, the maid had chosen that moment to knock, entering the room with her hot brandied milk and ending their conversation.

Drifting sleepily now, Thalia lay with her eyes closed, knowing she would need to bid Lord Leo good night soon. Her lady's maid should be able to help her limp into her bedchamber once he had gone. She would ask him to ring for her in a minute.

The next thing she knew was the sensation of two strong arms sliding beneath her. I must have dozed off, she realized. "Leo?"

"Keep sleeping," he murmured in a voice as rich and smooth as the hot toddy she'd drunk. His arms tightened as he began to lift her.

"I can manage-"

"Not without difficulty. Now just relax." He straightened, cradling her securely against him.

"But your injury-"

"Is fine. Barely a twinge."

There was a slight edge to his words that made her suspect he was playing down his discomfort, but then he was carrying her and she was simply too tired to resist. Besides, it was lovely being held this way-much more than it had any right to be.

Closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek against the soft wool of his coat and breathed him in, catching traces of linen starch, citrus and a clean, male scent uniquely his own.

Another warm blaze burned in her bedroom fireplace, the sheets and counterpane already turned down on her bed. Leo carried her across the room and laid her carefully onto the mattress.

She sank against the feather tick, her head cradled by a pair of fluffy pillows so soft that she nearly sighed aloud with contentment.

Seconds later, that contentment disappeared, her eyelids popping open as she felt his hand slide beneath the hem of her nightgown and around the bare skin of her calf.

Her gaze locked with his.

"Just settling your ankle on the bolster your maid prepared," he said in way of explanation. "You still have a fair amount of swelling. This should help."

My ankle.

Between the liquor and the relaxation, she'd nearly forgotten about the sprain. Or had the pain dulled because of Lord Leopold? Because he'd driven it temporarily from her mind by the sheer force of his presence?

Her pulse drummed with a deep, visceral beat when she felt his hand lie still against her calf, even though he had finished arranging her foot on the pillows.

"Comfortable?" he asked.

"Enough," she said, willing her heart to slow. Instead it sped faster.

"Do you require anything further? A gla.s.s of water, perhaps? Or an extra blanket?"

She shook her head. "No, nothing."

"I suppose I should be going."

"Yes, I suppose you should," she said, suddenly breathless.

Yet he made no move to leave and she did nothing to make him.

"I'll say good night, then. I know you need to rest."

Her lips parted. "I do."

He lifted his palm from her leg; she instantly felt the loss, foolish as it might seem to feel that way.

Without a word, he pulled the covers over her and tucked them in snugly. But rather than step away, he moved closer. Planting a hand on either side of her, he bent near. "I'd stay, if you weren't hurt."

She studied him intently. "If I weren't hurt," she said in a near whisper, "I just might let you."

A light flared deep in his eyes.

She swallowed, wondering what had come over her tonight. Had she really meant to say that? Or was it the brandy talking?

But she supposed she must have meant it, since she'd let Leo past her bedroom door. Injured or not, she could have stopped him if she'd really wished to do so.

"G.o.d, you make it hard to go," Leo said, his powerful arms caging her between them. "I suppose I'll have to settle for a good-night kiss. I'll want more once you're better."

And strangely, she thought she might too.

Then he was kissing her, his mouth commanding and persuasive, seductive and eager, as he led her down a path of dark desire and sweeping surrender. But he sought more from her than acquiescence, demanded her full and unqualified response.

Unthinkingly, she gave it, returning his kisses as he coaxed her lips apart and drew her deeper beneath his spell. His tongue circled hers in a slow, wet slide that made delicious s.h.i.+vers chase over her skin and heat spark like lightning in her system.

It was as if she were caught inside a storm, dangerous need cras.h.i.+ng inside her as he kissed her with an intensity she was helpless to resist. Blindly, she speared her fingers into his thick golden brown hair, the strands as soft as living silk beneath her touch.

Her mind floated away with the force of her pleasure, making her wonder if this was real or if she was still asleep and dreaming instead.

Then he was seated hip to hip with her on the bed, the bedclothes he'd so painstakingly tucked around her moments ago tossed to her knees. Before she quite knew how it had happened, the tie on her robe lay undone, the b.u.t.tons on her nightgown unfastened, as he scattered hot, sultry kisses over her cheeks and jaw and along the sensitive length of her throat.

Her fingers tightened in his hair as he moved lower, kissing his way over the flushed, tingling skin of her bare shoulders and chest before burying his face between her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Wild tendrils of desire quivered through her, with want such as she had never known consuming her.

He raised his head and met her gaze, his eyes burning with undisguised l.u.s.t. "Madame, you are exquisite."

Without looking away, he dipped his head again and licked one of her pink nipples, circling the tip with a warm, wet stroke of his tongue. Then he blew softly, sending a gentle gust of air over her damp flesh to devastating effect before raking his teeth across her taut, aching peak.

She shuddered, then shuddered again as he repeated the process, driving her half-mad as he licked and circled, blew and nibbled over and over again.

Apparently not one to stint, he moved on to her other breast and played there with a leisurely thoroughness that bordered on torture. He teased her nipple with the same sinful magic he'd used before until she thought she might die from delight.

Just when she was sure she couldn't bear another moment of the emotions flooding through her, he cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, cradling one in each wide palm, and began to feast in earnest. He hummed low in his throat, making sounds of decadent satisfaction as he opened his mouth and drew strongly upon her.

The sweet suction radiated all the way to her toes, and even more strongly between her legs, where she was wet and aching with need. Gordon used to complain she was frigid and unresponsive; she didn't feel frigid or unresponsive now.

Still, Leo needed to stop. Already his embrace had spiraled far beyond the simple good-night kiss he'd promised. And far, far beyond her ability to control.

Yet just as she was gathering herself to push him away, he leaned up and kissed her again, taking her mouth in a fervid joining that made the last of her good intentions drift off into the ether.

He drew her down, deep where she couldn't seem to find the surface anymore, where her senses ruled unopposed. His fingers stroked her sensitized b.r.e.a.s.t.s, while his lips roved in lazy forays across her mouth and nose, cheeks and forehead and chin.

He traced his tongue along the edge of her ear, dipping in like a bee gathering nectar before nibbling just behind in a spot that made her quake. "Whatever you do, don't move," he whispered quietly.

Her thoughts hazy, she could only nod, eager to see where he would go next.

But it wasn't his lips that sought new territory, rather one of his hands that stole soft as a shadow beneath her nightdress. Up he glided, over calf and knee, then across the tender length of her thigh. Higher and higher he roved, fingers gliding and caressing until he reached the V of her thighs, where he paused in search of an even more intimate caress.

Her eyes flashed open and she laid a hand over his, the light wool of her nightgown bunched between them. "Lord Leo?"

"Lady Thalia?" He smiled. "Though might I suggest a less formal term of address considering our present situation?"

"Y-you need to stop," she said.

"Do I? Are you sure?" He claimed her mouth again, his kiss turning her feverish and dizzy once more.

Below, he moved boldly to cover her mound, pressing the heel of his palm against her with a gentle yet devastating pressure. "Let me. Just don't move. I don't want anything to hurt." He kissed her again. "At least nothing that won't feel good later."

She trembled, wondering how she had come to such a pa.s.s. But then she didn't have time to wonder any longer as his fingers teased her nether curls and found the dampness gathered there. He kissed her again and continued his quest, tenderly stroking and touching her in ways that made it more and more impossible to resist.

She closed her eyes and searched for strength, fighting him, fighting herself.

But it was a useless effort, her hunger too overwhelming to deny. With a sigh, she let her hand go lax as she silently gave him permission to do as he wished.

Gently, he parted her thighs, s.h.i.+fting the knee of her good leg slightly upward so he could fit his hand fully between her legs. He teased her again, rubbing only the outer lips of her feminine core so that she grew even wetter, even more desperate. Her hands fisted at her sides as he continued his pa.s.sionate a.s.sault, each stroke more wicked than the last.

Voluntarily, she edged her thighs open wider and grabbed again for his hand-this time to pull him closer.

"Touch me," she begged.

"I believe that's what I'm doing." He teased her down low again, making her arch against him.