“You do rather,” he said with a smile. “A delightful fright.”
“What a welcome I’ve given you.”
Briefly he pressed his lips to hers. “Thank you for waiting.”
Nell had a bleak premonition that his mistress would devote many hours to waiting. She shoved the thought to the back of her mind where all her other misgivings lurked.
James Fairbrother was a good man. Nell knew that to her bones. The rules of their world made it impossible for them to be together without shame and secrecy. So she must accept shame and secrecy. Other women lived with that. She could learn to. Dear Lord, let her learn to.
Right now, the man she loved was inches away, whereas the future seemed so distant. “After ten days, is that the best you can do, my lord?”
His lips curved. He wasn’t a man who smiled easily, except with her. The thought melted her last doubts. “I feel rather awkward kissing a woman who addresses me so formally.”
“Perhaps you need more practice.”
“Do you mock me, Miss Trim?”
“It would do you no harm.” She’d seen how people respected and admired him. He seemed poignantly short of people who treated him as an equal. Even Sir Garth Burton’s attitude had verged on hero worship.
His expression turned serious. “Please, Eleanor, call me James.”
She rose on her knees and pressed provocative little kisses across the cool, damp skin of his face. His striking features had lured her since that first alarming encounter outside his library. She could stare at him for days and only become more fascinated.
A glance of her lips across the wide forehead concealing his miracle of a mind. Another to where his pulse beat at his temples. A row of kisses along his hairline, tasting rain. Three deliberate kisses down that intimidating nose.
“I’m sure… James… wouldn’t leave me… stuck on a?
?? precipice of… uncertainty for nearly… a fortnight,” she said between kisses.
More kisses along hard, slanted cheekbones and along his jaw. His skin was rough with stubble. This tangible proof of his masculinity thrilled her.
“Eleanor—” He caught her waist between his big, powerful hands.
“Only wicked Lord Leath would… leave me so long,” she said, her voice muffled against his neck. He smelled so wonderful. Fresh air. Horses. Male musk as his desire stirred.
“If wicked Lord Leath tells you that he left Alloway Chase before dawn to reach you, would you relent, sweet Miss Trim?”
She nipped him sharply, then drew back. “Truly?”
“Truly.” He tipped her back onto the chaise and loomed over her. “I won’t have scandal darkening your name. If I left too soon after you, questions would be asked. My mother is no fool.”
Troubled, Nell met his silvery eyes, seeing evidence of his arduous day in the weariness under his excitement. Because he was excited. Even before she’d kissed him, she’d known he was in a lather to have her. “Did she say anything?”
“No. When I told her I had business in the south, she merely… looked.”
Nell raised her chin with false bravado, as the thought of the marchioness knowing what they did made her cringe. “I’ll get used to this.”
Tenderness lengthened his mouth, softer and fuller than the mouth of the man who ran Alloway Chase. Just as his gaze was softer as it rested upon her. Whatever this recklessness cost her, she knew that the James Fairbrother she held now was hers and hers alone.
This time when he kissed her, he lingered, sucking on her lower lip until she parted for a luxuriant exploration. Every bone in Nell’s body melted. “That was lovely,” she sighed.
“You’re lovely.”
“If you’ve been traveling all day, you’ll be hungry. Shall I find you something to eat?”
His eyes focused on her and she squirmed at the heat in those silvery depths. “I don’t want food. I want you.” He laughed at her nervous squeak. “Have I shocked you?”
She shook her head. “No.”