Page 46 of Desperate Proposals
“Thank you, I don’t expect it ever shall.” She stared at thematelassécoverlet underneath her, and reached out with a delicate finger to trace the stitching pattern. Perhaps, if she ever fancied herself in love… but that was a ridiculous notion. Something a dunderhead like Edmund would have stumbled into.
Now she heard chuckling. The bed dipped as Mr. Hartley returned, and he placed a gentle hand on her backside.
Evelyn felt herself blush, but she steeled herself and turned to him.
“Well then,” he said. He had a lazy look about him, a soft smile playing upon his wonderful lips.
Her heart tightened.
In one hand he held a neatly folded square of toweling. “May I…” He gestured toward her.
“No thank you,” she said as she snatched the toweling. It was damp.
Evelyn turned away, not willing to allow him anything as improper asthat. But she added apologetically, “Although I appreciate the consideration.”
“Would you have me stay for the night?”
The low purr of his voice seemed to reverberate in her aching core.
But it would not do, to capitulate to every familiarity simply because of his voice. And the sensations it caused.
“If you prefer,” she replied, then hesitated before adding, “I believe, though, in order to achieve our purposes, further exertion may be unnecessary.”
“Our purposes?”
“I intend to bear you a child or two, as discussed.”
He didn’t respond, but she felt him behind her. And then his hand was upon her again, sliding along her side, groping her breast. Pulling her back against him.
She sighed involuntarily, and nearly clapped a hand over her mouth. Instead she pressed her lips shut, lest she lose her composure once more.
“I know you come from cold people,” he whispered against her neck, punctuating every few words with a light kiss.
Evelyn shivered, despite her best efforts.
“But I wish to know you. If you would allow it.”
She shut her eyes, enduring the gorgeous warmth of his touch, the steady weight of his body against hers.
He placed one long kiss upon her shoulder, then gave her hip a squeeze.
“Goodnight, Mrs. Hartley.”
And then he withdrew. She heard him collect his effects and exit through the same door he’d entered earlier.
She remained still for a long moment, then finally let herself fall onto her back, trying to will visions of a nude, virile Marcus Hartley from her mind, with little success.
Evelyn sighed again, then set to cleaning herself off with the toweling he’d brought her. There was more blood than she’d anticipated; thank goodness she hadn’t allowed him to tidy her up. The very thought made her blanche.
Ah well, she thought. If nothing else, she had a sneaking suspicion she’d excelled in this particular feminine pursuit, if Mr. Hartley’s words and smiles were to be believed.
She allowed herself a bit of pride at that.
Chapter Twelve
Whatever Marcus had expectedto find in his wife’s bed, it certainly hadn’t beenthat.
A lush minx, eagerly cleaving herself to him, while emitting pretty sighs and maddening groans of pleasure.
