Page 88 of When the Marquess Was Mine
She smiled, her eyes glowing. “Absolutely certain.”
Chapter 28
Georgiana had hoped for this ever since she sneaked out of the house in Cavendish Square and climbed into the hackney Nadine had fetched. Nadine was as eager as Georgiana to avoid being sent back to Wakefield Manor and had been a willing conspirator.
She suspected Lady Sidlow might have guessed what she was up to, but that lady had been conspicuously absent from view all evening. Georgiana thought the revelations about her husband, and her fears about Alistair, had sapped Lady Sidlow’s sense of propriety, or perhaps her will to enforce it.
Not that it mattered; no one could have stopped her from coming to Rob tonight.
And he, wonderful he, had taken her inside without a whiff of shock, and listened to her concerns. He promised to help her, even before she told him her plan, and even though one of her previous plans had involved lying to him. He grinned as if he relished embarking on some mad scheme with her, and when he kissed her she thought her chest might burst.
Georgiana knew, in a way she’d never known before, that he was the one for her. Sterling had amused her and pleased her; they’d both been content for her to worship him. Rob consumed and enthralled her, and the fascination she felt for him was reflected in his face as he looked at her.
“Do you know,” she said between kisses, “I undressed you once before?” She untied his cravat as she spoke.
“Did you? I don’t remember it.” He watched her with searing eyes.
“Pay more attention this time,” she murmured, working loose the buttons on his waistcoat.
He laughed low in his throat. “I mean to. Come with me, love. Let’s do this properly, not on the sofa where Tom might walk in.”
“Your brother is here?” She caught up her skirt and hurried with him, hand in hand.
“On sufferance only.” He led her up the stairs. It was a lovely house, Georgiana belatedly noticed, finer than her house in Cavendish Square and far more elegant than she’d have expected from a bachelor. The floor was a checkerboard of black and white marble, and a chandelier glittered above the curve of the graceful winding stairs. And it was Arlington Street, one of the most exclusive in London. Rakes and rogues did not live here, but government ministers, people who intrigued and kept secrets. She studied her new fiancé thoughtfully, beginning to believe there was far more to him than she knew.
He threw open a door and led her through a large dressing room into a bedroom. He released her to fetch a lamp from the dressing room, and then closed the door.
They were alone. The bed loomed behind her, shadowed promise of the pleasures to come. Her fingers tingled and her pulse raced. Rob’s hands came to cup her jaw softly. “My darling,” he whispered. “My love. Are you really here, or is this another fever dream of mine?” He kissed her before she could reply.
She gulped for air as his mouth moved over her skin. “I’m real,” she managed to gasp. “And I’m yours.”
That crooked grin crossed his face. “No, it’s entirely the other way around. I’ve been yours since I opened my eyes in Osbourne House and Dr. Elton said I was.” This time his kiss was even more intoxicating than the last, deep and hot and so long she thought she would expire from it. He flooded her senses and swamped her brain until she heard nothing but his rough, hungry murmurs, felt nothing but the scorching touch of his hands, and saw nothing but him, as drunk on desire as she felt.
“If you’re going to undress me again,” he whispered, sliding open the first few buttons on her pelisse, “you’d best work quickly.”
Her stomach leapt. As girls, she and Sophie and Eliza had been intensely curious to know about making love. Other girls at Mrs. Upton’s Academy, girls with mothers and cousins and older sisters, had passed on scraps of information gleaned from their married relations. Sophie, who learned cards and dice from the stable hands, picked up bits of the male view. When her friends married, Georgiana had demanded they tell her everything, for good or for ill, and they had obliged. Lady Sidlow’s lips had never uttered a syllable on the topic, but Georgiana was not unaware of what she was doing.
Still... it was more marvelous than she’d ever expected. For all that she’d adored Sterling, never once had she wanted to peel off his shirt, as she did to Rob’s, so impatiently she heard the rip of cloth. She had never imagined touching his bare chest and belly the way she did Rob’s, greedily, marveling at the unexpected beauty of the male body. She had never dreamed that she would feel feverish and wild, wanting to tear off her own clothes and feel his warm golden skin against hers, but tonight she could think of nothing else.
While she had been absorbed in studying every firm inch of his skin, he had got her pelisse off and unbuttoned her dress. “I want to strip you bare,” he said, his voice a taut thread of sound. “I want to see you and pleasure you and lose myself in you... God, Georgiana, I don’t trust myself with you.”
She pulled her arms free of the dress, the stupid thing, and let it fall to the floor around her. “I do,” she whispered. “I trust you completely. And I came here hoping you would make love to me.”
His throat worked. His eyes burned. “Do you know—do you understand—?”
A smile crossed her lips. “Yes,” she said softly, running her fingers down his belly. “I know what I’m asking.”
In reply he swung her into his arms and carried her to the bed. With one hand he flipped back the blankets and laid her down, taking care to prop her up on the pillows. He even added more until she laughed. “I feel like Scheherezade in her palace.”
He braced one arm against the bedpost. “And so you should, my captivating princess.” His scorching gaze wandered over her in potent appreciation. Instinctively she stretched her arms overhead, arching her back and curling her toes into the softness of the linens.
“I haven’t got any more fanciful stories to tell you,” she murmured.
“You don’t need to,” he said in a low voice. “You’ve already beguiled me completely. From now on, we’ll create our own wild adventures together, and someday you can tell our children about their scoundrel father getting carried away by a roc, or chased by angry elephants...”
She couldn’t help laughing. “Shall I have to rescue you again?”
“I count on it.” A wicked smile lingering on his lips, he climbed onto the bed, his knees straddling her hips. He pulled loose the ribbon of her chemise. She barely breathed as he loosened it and drew it gently away from her. “My God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his fingertips tracing a path of heat down her chest. His eyes flashed to hers for a moment before he reverently cupped his fingers around her breast, and Georgiana lost her last thread of thought.
