Page 116 of When a Marquis Chooses a Bride
“I like your butler as well.”
Dom’s hand stopped as he raised his glass. “We are going to be happy.”
His voice wavered a bit, as if he needed reassurance, and she smiled, touching her glass to his. “We are going to be exceedingly happy.”
* * *
Hours later, the early morning light filtered through a slit in the curtains, waking Dom. Thea’s inky, black curls splayed over the pillows and down her body and his. He carefully moved her heavy locks aside to run his tongue over the edges of her ear. He was rewarded by a soft moan. They had made love deep into the night, but he was hard again. He’d never known a woman like his Thea. He hovered between waking her and allowing her to sleep a bit longer. Too soon, though, he would have to take her back to her room.
He lightly stroked her breasts before moving slowly down to the apex of the thighs.
“Yes.” She sighed softly.
Thea arched up as he stroked her core. He understood now why his grandfather had refused to spend a night away from his grandmother. To think that he had almost resigned himself to a life without love.
“Now, Dom. I want you now.”
A life without her. He plunged into her soft, wet heat.
Moments later, she cried out, and her convulsions gripped him. One last thrust and he joined her in paradise.
Dom knew he should take Thea back now, but he couldn’t bring himself to release her. She was so snug and warm in his arms. Just a few more minutes and he would carry her to her chamber.
A light thump disrupted his thoughts, and a moment later Cyrille patted Dom’s shoulder. If there was anything the cat was good at, it was finding him. “How did you get in here?” He glanced to the hidden door. “I must not have closed it all the way.”
“Closed what?” Thea turned in his arms and smiled, her brilliant emerald green eyes still glazed with sleep. “Good morning.”
Cyrille climbed over Dom, settling between him and Thea.
She stroked the cat from his head to the tip of his tail. How pitiful that Dom wished it was him she was petting.
“Good morning to you as well. I don’t remember him being in here last night.”
“He wasn’t. I must have left the door open.”
Thea’s eyes widened. “Which means the other door is open as well.” She sat up and rubbed her face. “I must go back to my chamber. If anyone sees . . .”
“Sorry, Cyrille.” He dislodged the cat. “Let me get my dressing gown and your wrapper.”
“Where do you think this leads?” a high girlish voice asked.
“Probably to a hidden room,” a second voice answered. “To think Dotty gets to live in a house with secret passages.”
“Henny is going to be green with envy that we found it.”
“I wonder if anyone else knows it’s here.”
“As dirty as it is, I doubt it.”
Dom could almost see a small nose wrinkle in disgust. He quickly donned his banyan, and leaned over to whisper to Thea, “Your brother and sister, I take it?”
“Naturally, who else? It’s a good thing they cannot see me here.”
“I’ll take them out to the corridor and promise to show them the secret stairs in the library. That will give you time to go back to your room.” He tossed Thea’s wrapper to her and closed the bed hangings. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”
He turned toward the door just as it swung open and two dark-haired children emerged. He put his hands on his hips. A little stern intimidation should set them right. “Good morning. Do you always make a point of searching the houses you’re visiting?”
The girl glanced up at him and beamed. “You must be Lord Merton.”
