Page 31 of Madcap with a Marquess
He toed off his boots, bent over and ripped off his stockings. He advanced on the pond, on her, unbuttoning his waistcoat. He shrugged out of it, not breaking stride. It hit the ground behind him with a softthump. The only thing soft about any of this. Everything he felt was hard. Heated.
Hostile.
He tore at his cravat, pulling the length of fabric viciously until he finally got the last of it off his neck.
Franny’s eyes widened. He reached the edge of the pond and popped the buttons of his shirt, holding her gaze. When the last button popped free, he arched a you-dare-doubt-me brow, reached over his shoulder to his back, and ripped off his shirt.
Franny’s lips parted in a small moue, and she swam forward, as if drawn to him, as if the sight of him was some sort of irresistible pull. A low growl rumbled from him. Hereallyliked the thought of that.
He strode into the pond, water lurching as he powered through. Just as the water reached his waist, he reached her.
“Rupert, you actually came in—”
He cut her joyous exclamation short, picked her up, and threw her over his shoulder.
She squealed. “Rupert! What are you doing? Put me down!”
“No.”
She beat her arms against his back, legs kicking wildly. He gripped her tighter, his cock thickening. God, he loved her fight. Black fire licked through his blood. Something dark stirred to life inside him. His fantasies simmering just below the surface, threatening to break free.
“Put me down this instant! You beast! My arse is completely exposed!”
“Oh, so now we’ve found some modesty, have we? Well, it’s too late for that.”
He could hear her teeth grinding over his shoulder, and he smiled. He stepped onto the bank of the pond and walked over to her pile of clothes. He bent over and grabbed Franny’s chemise and threw it over her arse.
“There, modesty.”
She grunted.
He picked up her dress and proceeded to the hunting lodge bordering the pond.
“Put me down, Rupert. I can walk now. I’ll put my clothes back on, I promise.”
“Too late. We will be having words,wife.”
Her body trembled against him. Good, she should be afraid of the tongue lashing he was about to deliver. Of everything he was about to deliver.
He burst through the door of the hunting lodge and kicked it shut.Bang—it slammed like a gunshot, reverberating through the shadowed deserted lodge. Deserted except for a pair of dusty wooden chairs, an empty hearth, a dirt-covered stone floor, and dark wood walls.
Rupert finally put her down and stepped back. She immediately ran up to him, beating on his chest with her delicate fists. As ineffectual as a pawing kitten.
“How dare you,” she said through panting breaths.
He grabbed her wrists, immobilizing her.
“How dareI? Your behavior is deplorable, Franny. What was I supposed to do? Allow my undignified wife to frolic naked on my estate? God, you didn’t even deign to put on stockings or a corset today.”
“It’s June! It’s hot!” She pouted at him, pulling at his grasp.
His eyes went wide in disbelief. “It’s hot? Your reason isit’s hot. Try wearing a cravat in the heat of summer! Do you have no regard for propriety?” He dropped her wrists and waved a hand wildly in front of her naked breasts. “Exposing your breasts. Have you no shame?”
The tension fled her body, and her shoulders wilted. She took a half-step backward, her brow puckering. She looked down and grabbed fistfuls of her breasts, lifting them.
Fucking hell.
“Shame?” She looked at him, hands molding her breasts into gloriously enticing mounds.
