Page 79 of Never a Duchess
She studied his firm buttocks as he walked to the washstand. She wanted to keep him locked in this room, lodged between her thighs forever. Not because she craved his prowess in the bedchamber. Intimacy flowed between them like an ancient underground river. Something sacred that could withstand the test of time.
Mingled with lust was a more terrifying feeling.
One she suspected just might be love.
* * *
A distant sound dragged Lillian from her slumber. She was curled around Dounreay’s naked body, clinging to him, taking comfort in the heat radiating from his bronzed skin.
The room was dark, the fire nought but dying embers, the hum of the city but faint echoes.
Memories stirred. The feel of cold water on her chest, the tingling, the tenderness in every stroke as Dounreay wiped her clean. The instant spark of arousal. The rain of hot kisses over her breasts. Pleasuring each other before tiredness claimed them.
The loud hammering on the front door jolted her to her senses. “Good Lord! Dounreay! There’s someone at the door.” She sat up, trying to rouse a coherent thought.
She’d not meant to fall asleep.
Had the midnight hour passed?
Had Adam come to threaten Dounreay, to berate her and drag her home?
“Callan! Wake up.” She whipped the bedsheets back, the cold dragging a gasp from her lips and raising goose pimples on her skin. “I need to find my chemise.”
“Come back to bed,” her Highlander groaned, half asleep.
The caller took to hitting the wood with his fist, the dull thud almost murderous in intent. Adam wouldn’t stop at taking an axe to the door.
Like a wolf sensing danger, Dounreay sat bolt upright.
“Adam won’t be as forgiving if he finds me in a state of undress.” She found her chemise and tugged it over her head, though it did nothing to chase away the cold or her fears. “Get dressed. Hurry.”
He shot out of bed, the sight of his erect manhood distracting her mind and playing havoc with her body. “What time is it?”
“I have no notion.” She watched him dress, wishing time would still and she could indulge her desires. Sleeping in his arms was as satisfying as making love. “It must be late.”
He threw on his shirt and tucked it into his kilt, his gaze darting to the door when the caller banged again. “How do I look?”
Like the love of my life.
Like heartbreak waiting to happen.
“A bit rumpled.” Crossing the room, she combed her fingers through his hair, then attempted to brush the creases out of his shirt. “Know I don’t regret what happened between us. Know I’m warming to Highland life. If you’re still willing, I’ll do everything I can to join you tomorrow night.”
“Ye speak like ye’re about to be dragged away to a nunnery.”
“I fear something will spoil this dream.”
Dounreay cupped her cheek and stroked his thumb over her lip.
A look passed between them, but the mystery caller persisted in trying to capture their attention.
“Stay here until I return.” Dounreay kissed her forehead like he might never see her again, then charged downstairs, taking her heart with him.
Impatient, she tiptoed onto the landing, crouched in the darkness, gripping the baluster for support. Ears pricked, she waited for an unholy argument to erupt.
Tense seconds ticked by as she braced herself. Regardless of her reputation, she would race downstairs and defend the duke if necessary.
“Wait there, lad,” Dounreay said, his tone mellow. The pad of footsteps preceded a door opening and closing. “There’s enough for a hackney home, though I’m sure Daventry paid ye well.”
