Page 69 of A Tempest of Desire
He considered following her into the residence, into her bed, awakening with her in the morning—the best way to begin a day—but he needed a little more time to determine what his relationship with her would entail. He suspected she needed a little more time as well.
Drawing away from her was hard, but he managed to do it and to place his thumb against her moist, swollen lips. Kissing was certainly going to be a large part of what they did when they were together. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He shoved on the door, ushered her through the opening. “Sleep well, Marlowe.”
After closing her in, he bounded down the steps and clambered into his carriage. As it began rolling through the streets, he was struck by how lonely it was. He wondered if for the remainder of his life, he would feel as if a piece of him was missing when she wasn’t with him.
Chapter 27
With their breaths still coming harsh and heavy, their bodies sweaty and cooling, following a session of mad lovemaking, Marlowe stared up at the deep purple canopy and decided she would never again look at purple in the same way. It would always remind her of these few nights of animalistic coupling. Sex was never tame with them, as though by knowing their time together was limited, they were determined to rejoice in each other’s bodies and celebrate as if they were shooting off fireworks inside each other.
By silent mutual agreement, they never stayed within her residence. During the past week, with the arrival of dusk, they would be in his carriage heading through London toward his town house. If the street she lived on was surreptitiously referred to as Mistress Row rather than by its true name, she suspected his was known as Lords-a-Plenty Way because on more than one occasion she’d caught sight of a lord or two she recognized as they were entering or leaving their residence.
It had been funny to watch the manner in which their heads jerked back around once they realized whom they’d spotted. The widening of their eyes, the dropping of their jaws.
While ink had been devoted to reporting that “Marlowe” had been carried out of a notorious club by “Viscount L,” she suspected the lords hadn’t expected to see her on their street. Mistresses were visited upon within their lodging, not taken to the home of their benefactor. Perhaps that was the reason he brought her to the place where he lived—because she was his lover, not his mistress.
She was no doubt being silly to make such a distinction, and yet she found great comfort in knowing they were together simply because they wanted to be. She wasn’t obligated to spread her legs because he’d provided her with an additional servant or purchased her a new piece of furniture or ensured she’d had a gown made using that red silk she’d been coveting at the dressmaker’s.
She was welcoming him into her body because it was where she wanted him and where he wanted to be. The freedom she felt was almost as grand as what she experienced when she was floating high above the earth, queen of her domain.
“How many times do you think we’ve made love?” she asked, knowing it was seldom they did it only once a night.
“Haven’t a bloody clue.” His tone was almost mystified.
She turned her head to find him watching her. “Perhaps we should keep count.”
“What does it matter?”
She couldn’t quite identify his attitude, but it was like he really didn’t care and wondered why she was carrying on so about it. “I suppose it doesn’t. Hollie visited today.”
They were lying on their backs, side by side, joined from shoulder to her ankle and his calf because of course his legs extended far beyond hers. Hence, she was very much aware of him visibly stiffening, like she’d punched her fist into his gut.
“For tea,” she hastened to clarify, as she twisted onto her side so she could observe him more clearly.
He bent his head so his eyes could meet hers. She liked that they almost always held each other’s gaze when they spoke, truly interested in what the other had to say.
“He was surprised you didn’t ensure you won the last time you played cards, when he made another atrocious wager. He knows you have the ability to manipulate your hand.” She didn’t know why she was pushing on this, except it had bothered her that night and suspicions wouldn’t leave her in peace. “Between what you held and what you discarded, you had the cards needed to form a straight.”
“Did I?”
“You knew you did, surely. You looked at your cards before you discarded them, and then after you got new ones. You even rearranged them.” She’d been watching him so closely she even knew how many times he’d clicked a finger against the back of one of his cards. “Did you not work your magic because I hadn’t given you a proper smile?”
She’d never known his face to be so unreadable,stony, as if he’d locked his thoughts within a castle keep and not even a fire-breathing dragon could set them free.
He studied her for the longest time, as if he was searching for something buried deeply within her... or within himself. When his response finally came, the words were slowly, torturously delivered, like he expected each one might explode or would lead him toward a destination he didn’t want to reach. “No, that’s not the reason I didn’t manipulate the cards.”
“Then why didn’t you?” It wasn’t that she necessarily had wanted him to win her, but it had been his chance to show Hollie and every man at that table that he truly wanted her.
He sighed. “What does it matter?”
He’d asked the same thing a few minutes ago regarding the number of times they’d made love. Suddenly she felt uncared for, as ifshedidn’t matter, at least not to him, not with the same strength of conviction he mattered to her. She wanted to tell him that it did indeed matter, but it was only her pride, her heart, yearning for what she knew would never be hers to hold. His heart. Perhaps it was a good thing their time together would be short, the few memories accumulated, dear.
“I suppose it doesn’t.”
He rose up on an elbow and the shifting of the mattress caused her to roll onto her back. Cradling her face with one large hand, he looked at her with an abundance of tenderness. “That wasn’t a very convincing lie. Why is it important that I should cheat to have you?”
“I suppose I wanted to feel that you yearned for me to such an extent that you’d do anything to have me.” She shook her head as much as she was able with his grip on her. “It wouldn’t have proven anything really.” They’d have still ended up in bed, and she wanted him to want her without that. Or at least in addition to that.
