Page 60 of This Earl of Mine

She’d barely seen him during the frenzied blur of their earlier lovemaking, but now she looked her fill. The soft glow of the oil lamp on the nightstand caressed his body in the same way her fingers itched to do, and her pulse galloped as she studied the intriguing ridges of his sculpted stomach and chest.

He was hard and lean, muscled but not bulky, as if every part of him had been honed to perfection by grueling necessity. His skin was tawny, darkened by the sun like a sailor’s, not pale and paunchy like most gentlemen’s of theton.

Her heart squeezed at the sight of him. His dark hair was tousled in glorious disarray, and she felt a kind of wonder. He’d done things to her that were as astonishing as they had been pleasurable. It was like discovering a whole new continent where the map had shown nothing but empty sea. An entirely different landscape of sensation she’d never known existed.

She’d never imagined the all-consuming pleasure of making love with a man. She’d thought it would be pleasant in the same way it was nice to have Tilly rub her shoulders, or the way a bonbon dissolved on her tongue. Not so. It was pleasant in the way of the most fearsome of storms—exhilarating and overwhelming, terrifying in its power. But now she’d weathered it and come out safe the other side, she felt elated and reborn. Glad to be alive.

She sent him a tremulous smile, determined to be as cool and sophisticated as his other lovers. “So, will I see you tomorrow at the Cavendish garden fête? I’m fairly sure that after your performance at the Evans’ this evening, the book at White’s will be filling up with bets about us announcing our engagement.”

He chuckled. “The last time I checked, it was fifty toone against your acceptance. Your reputation proceeds you, my lady. You’re a hard nut to crack.”

“Well, I’m sure the odds will have shortened now,” she said wryly. A sudden thought struck her. “You know, you could make yourself a whole stack of money if you just bet that I’ll marry you.”

He shot her a mock-wounded look. “Whatever you think of me, Mrs. Wylde, I do havesomescruples. Entering into a bet with inside knowledge and a certainty of winning would be extremely ungentlemanly. I won’t do it.”

She nodded, perversely glad that he’d withstood the temptation to solve his financial woes by resorting to such underhand tactics. He had both integrity and personal honor. He was, in fact, the polar opposite of Josiah, who pretended to have impeccable morals, but bent the rules when he thought no one was looking.

Father would have approved of Benedict Wylde. He was exactly the type of man he’d always urged her to find, someone strong and constant, with a good heart. He wasn’t always truthful, of course, and he could be annoyingly high-handed at times, but he was utterly loyal to those lucky few he chose to be his friends.

Georgie shook her head at her own foolishness. If she wasn’t careful, she’d find herself besotted with her own husband. Or worse. “So, will I see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll try to come. It depends on what happens with Johnstone.”

She took her dress from his outstretched hand and put it on, not bothering with her stays. “You mean you’ll be going after him?”

“Yes. Alex, Seb, and I will wait in the tavern we visited today. As soon as he enters the building, we’ll pounce.”

Georgie sighed. “I wish I could be there.”

“You’ve done enough.” He smiled to soften the sting of rejection, drawing her in for a kiss.

Georgie melted against him as her limbs went weak.

It was he who pulled away. He turned her and silently buttoned up her dress, as efficient as any lady’s maid, and she shivered as he pressed a kiss to her exposed neck. “I’ll ask Mickey to take you home,” he murmured softly.

Pieter had left the back door unlocked, and Georgie sneaked into the house without incident. She entered her room and fell onto the bed in a state of exhausted bliss. Did she feel different now she was no longer a virgin? She made a quick mental catalogue of her body. She felt wonderful. A little sore and achy, slightly more sensitive to the touch of her clothing, but definitelygood.

Her long-held goal of taking a lover had been achieved, and she already wanted to do it again. And again.

She remembered the incredible sense of peace and warmth she’d felt when they’d been lying together. Tucked against his body, enfolded in his arms, she’d felt cherished and protected and… loved. She pulled herself up short. He probably made every woman feel like that, as if she were the center of his universe.

Part of her hoped her obsession with him would burn itself up quickly. It would hurt when they inevitably parted ways. He would become bored by her lack of experience. She’d have to watch him transfer that blinding heat and teasing laughter to some other lucky recipient and pretend she didn’t care.

She shoved that depressing thought away. She would take Benedict’s advice and seize the moment, enjoy their time together, no matter how brief.

But first, she needed sleep.

Chapter 32.

Georgie woke to a scratching at her door and sat up as Juliet slipped into the room and bounded up onto the bed like an overeager puppy. She studied Georgie’s face with a close, laughing scrutiny. “What wereyouup to last night, you naughty girl?”

Georgie frowned as a guilty flush warmed her cheeks. She pushed her hair out of her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you weren’t in bed when I came in to talk to you,” Juliet accused. “I wanted to tell you about Simeon kissing me in the Evans’ hothouse, but you weren’t here.”

Georgie stifled a groan.

“So where were you? And withwhom?”

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