Page 90 of Taming Ivy
“Ivy.” He brushed a honey sparked curl from her brow. “Wake up.”
She mumbled something unintelligible, eyelashes fluttering as she drew the blanket closer to her chin. Sebastian leaned forward, his mouth pressed to hers. He kissed her more insistently until her eyes drifted open.
“Hello, love,” he murmured.
Ivy reached out, her warm fingertips drifting over his jaw. A strange expression, something bordering on relief, flashed across her features. “You came back.”
“And what else could I do? I cannot exist without you.” Sebastian did not expect to find his arms filled with her.
Ivy’s embrace was fierce, her arms wrapping tight about him. He moved to sit on the divan and she immediately adjusted until she was completely in his grasp, her face buried in his neck.
“I said I would be back by dawn.” He tried to sound nonchalant, tried not to notice the frothy excuse for a nightgown she wore. The same pale blue, it matched the discarded wrapper and Ivy’s flesh glowed through it. The sight and scent of her made Sebastian’s body react violently. His hands, curled about her waist, shook as her warmth seeped through the fabric of her gown to heat his palms. He felt both hot and cold. “Did you think I would not return?”
Damn, he tired of sidestepping their issues, tired of hoping his wife might open her arms and her heart to him.
It was time to resolve matters. Tonight.
“I did not know what to think.” Ivy knew it was impossible to tell Sebastian she could not sleep in his bed, surrounded by his scent, tortured by memories of how gently he held her that first morning at Beaumont. How could she explain that his kisses rattled her soul when she did not understand it herself? How to explain that she could not bear to be where he was not?
She came to the library, thinking a book would help her sleep, to ease her mind. But nothing pulled from the shelves captivated her. Instead, she roamed the library until collapsing in self-defeat on one of the divans.
She could not tell him she foolishly cried herself into an exhausted slumber.
“You thought I would not return,” Sebastian prodded, grasping her by the shoulders to peer into her eyes.
Ivy knew she could not answerthat. She could not put to words how devastating it felt, knowing he was gone and might never return. Watching him ride away caused a burning, empty ache in the pit of her stomach.
Her brow knitting in confusion, she shied from acknowledging his statement. “I don’t understand. Duels are undertaken at daybreak. Is the viscount dead?”
“There will be no duel. And when I left Basford, he was very much alive. Frightened half out of his wits, what little he has, but alive. More’s the pity, I think.” Cupping Ivy’s chin, Sebastian tipped her face so the firelight illuminated it. “The last thing I want to do is discuss Brandon Madsen. I wish to speak of us and our particular situation.”
“Why is there to be no duel?” Ivy believed it unlikely Sebastian would relinquish the opportunity to make Brandon pay for his crime. Why would he?
The sound escaping Sebastian was both groan and chuckle. “We won’t move past this unless I explain. So, listen carefully, my love. The viscount will be taking an extended trip abroad. Indeed, he may never set foot on English soil again; at least not while either of us live.”
Suspicion glinted in her eyes. “Why would he do that?”
“I persuaded him to it. There will be no duel and no talk of scandal. No one, other than those close to us, will know what occurred. You can be certain Basford will never mention it, at least as long as he values his life.”
“But Basford’s coachman. He -”
“Is now in my employ, happy and handsomely paid, I might add. Your next question undoubtedly concerns my aunt. The threat of exile to one of my northern estates in Scotland and the cutoff of her generous allowance gains her silence as well. Our dearest friends, Alan and Sara? You know they will never breathe a word. I have taken care of it. I will always take care of things.” Sebastian’s eyes held hers, burning and dark. “I willalwaystake care of you.”
“I know I was abducted.” Ivy’s challenge was soft but direct. “You cannot make it disappear as though it never happened.”
He smiled. “Can’t I? Are you a loose string, my dear? Shall I tie you up as neatly as I have the others? I have ways to make you forget that awful night. To erase it from your mind until it never existed.”
Tugging her to him, his mouth descended upon hers in a flurry of heat and desire and for an instant, Ivy almost wrenched herself from him, the fear of giving into him almost a conditioned response.
But she did not. Instead, she melted, hot and fluid, squirming closer to the heat of his body. Sebastian kissed her almost roughly, but she loved it. His tongue swept the inside of her mouth, meeting and entangling with hers until she wanted more. She sighed low in her throat, ready to capitulate to him.
Drawing back at the sound, Sebastian appeared to contemplate his next action, and Ivy did not dare look away from his diamond bright eyes.
“Unbutton my shirt,” he finally said in a hoarse whisper.
As she did his bidding, her hands trembled. One by one, the ivory buttons slipped from their moorings until at last, the garment lay open to his waist. Without his directive, she pulled the shirt tails from his breeches until the edges fluttered open, exposing his chest and the slabs of golden, sleek muscles there.
Sebastian sucked in a quick breath as her fingertips skated across his flesh. With her feet tucked underneath her, Ivy could get no closer unless she crawled across his lap or she laid back against the divan. She was not sure which she wanted. With a brazen decision, she pressed herself to him, laying across his thighs.
