Page 85 of Counting on a Countess
“Imagine my surprise when I awoke to find my bride missing,” he noted wryly.
“A small domestic emergency,” she explained, leading him back into the main part of the house. “All taken care of.”
“Anything I can assist with?”
She waved a hand. “Not a bit. I didn’t mean to alarm you,” she added apologetically.
“I wasn’t alarmed.” He stepped nearer and looped his arms around her, drawing her close. “But I wakened hoping to share with my wife the delights of a morning abed.”
He bent down and kissed her with an erotic intensity that made her blood heat. She clung to him, her mind spinning from the pressure of maintaining her deception while her body hummed with arousal from his seduction.
“We could return to bed,” she suggested when she surfaced.
“We’ll save our energies for an afternoon nap,” he said with a wicked smile. “But let’s begin our day now that we’re both up and dressed. Or somewhat dressed,” he added on a laugh when she looked at his unfastened waistcoat. “I have plans for us today.”
Her heart squeezed with bittersweet happiness. He continually sought to give her pleasure, and she deceived him under his own roof. “More boating?”
“This will be a city outing,” he allowed.
She tilted her head. “You won’t tell me where we’re going? Like you did with the sailing?”
He grinned. “I do like surprising you.” Reaching down to take hold of her hand, he said with mock solemnity. “Before we can have our adventure, we must break our fast and fortify ourselves. Though,” he added, his look scorching, “you may have changed my mind about returning to bed. You’d make for a delectable breakfast.”
“There’s no limit to your appetites,” she noted, warming from the candid sensuality of his gaze and words.
He walked backward, leading her toward the stairs up to the bedroom. “I can do without food if I have to. But I’m learning that when it comes to my hunger for you, I can’t be sated.”
Her soul withered even as happiness made her glow. She had entered into this marriage for purely mercenary reasons, and now that she and Kit shared a bond, she was being made to pay the price.
With rising excitement—and growing trepidation—Kit watched through the carriage window as they crossed over the Thames to the south bank. When he’d planned on telling her about the pleasure garden, he hadn’t anticipated it would follow their first night together. But she’d given him so much happiness, he wanted to share everything with her. That included revealing his long-cherished wish with her.
Yet, he realized, he’d given little thought to the pleasure garden when he was with her. Watching her laugh and cry at the theater, seeing her pleasure in good whisky and better company, her freedom and exhilaration on the water—these things had made him happy becauseshewas happy. He wanted to give her that. Again and again until they were old and dozing side by side in front of the fire.
He was close, so very close, to having his heart’s every desire. All he had to do was convince Tamsyn that his plan for a pleasure garden was a good one, and worth the exorbitant cost.
She would love his dream as he did. He knew it. And they would spend the rest of their lives bringing each other joy.
My God, I think I’ve fallen in love with my wife.
She caught him looking at her and gave him a warm smile, as if she could hear this revelation.
Tonight—or perhaps later today—he’d make love to her again. And as they lay together, he would tell her of his feelings. Then he would work very hard to make certain that he deserved her.
Damn, but he’d been a fortunate bastard to find her.
By the time the carriage came to a stop, he was grinning. Once the footman opened the door, Kit sprang out, then reached in to help Tamsyn down.
They would have the pleasure garden,andeach other. It would be perfect.
He held on to her hand once she’d alighted, and together, they walked to the edge of a large, empty plot of land.
Tamsyn looked confused but interested as she took in the property. It covered roughly an acre, with a few stands of scrubby trees dotting the dusty parcel. The remains of a shack crouched toward one end, its timbers waiting for a determined breeze to knock it over.
“Was this a farm?” She shaded her eyes against the day’s brightness.
“Years ago,” he answered, walking them farther into the plot. “The tenant couldn’t keep up with the rent and moved out about a decade past. It’s stood vacant ever since.”
“It’s very... open,” she said brightly.
