He pulled the heavy, golden hair away from her neck and kissed her there. She didn’t move, not even a twitch, but then, he thought with an inward smile, she was surely exhausted.
Douglas was unbelievably energised.
He rolled off the other side of the bed and caught sight of the clock. Cursing under his breath, he strode to his sitting room, closing the door to the bedroom with a soft click. He picked up the phone and dialled twenty.
Mr. Kilpatrick answered at the Groundskeeper’s Cottage after two rings. Douglas could hear in the background what sounded like pandemonium.
The children, it would seem, were either tearing apart the Kilpatrick’s home or ripping each other to shreds.
Regardless of the tenor of the noise, there was something both pleasing and distressing about it. This was because Douglas had heard it before, time and again, whenever he’d go to Tamsin and Gavin’s home.
He had never heard it at Sommersgate, not before Tamsin and Gavin’s deaths, nor after.
Douglas was pleased to hear it again just as he was distressed it had stopped and all the reasons why.
At Mr. Kilpatrick’s repeated greeting, Douglas shook off these thoughts and, without introducing himself, started to say, “Can you…” but stopped speaking when another phone was picked up and Mrs. Kilpatrick muttered a distracted hello.
Douglas was forced to start again. “I need you to watch the children for a few more hours.”
“Is everything all right?” Mrs. Kilpatrick asked immediately, sounding alarmed.
Douglas found he was at a loss of what to say. He’d never been asked a question when he’d given an instruction. He couldn’t say that Julia was ill or Mrs. Kilpatrick would come racing down to the house. He certainly couldn’t tell them the truth.
“Miss Julia is,” he fought for a diplomatic explanation and found one, “indisposed.”
Silence greeted this announcement and then he heard a phone inexplicably clatter down in its cradle. Mr. Kilpatrick assured him the children were safe with them and Douglas rung off.
He returned to the bed, sliding in behind Julia and fitting his body against the silken length of hers while he slid his arm around her waist. He was debating with himself whether to take a moment to relive the extraordinary events of last night or to press his hand between her legs just so that he could hear another of her husky moans. Then, later, he’d coax her to say his name in her sweet, low voice when her limbs were wrapped tight around him and he was buried inside her.
While he was uncommonly undecided, she settled into his body, wiggling her ass into his groin.
Immediately, he chose the latter.
Before he could move though, she mumbled something sleepily into the pillow.
His arm curled tighter around her and his lips sought her ear.
“What?” he whispered and he felt her delicious shiver at the sound of his voice. This made his contentment grow.
He enjoyed his power over her, her response to his merest touch, the sound of his voice, in fact, he exalted in it.
She lifted her chin, nearly bumping his head with hers.
“Wanna kitty,” she mumbled.
“What?” Douglas repeated, thinking he hadn’t heard her correctly.
“Used to have a kitty, would sleep in on the weekends and he’d curl up right here.” Her hand fluttered to her waist then fell to rest on his arm. “Had to put him to sleep a couple of weeks before Gavin died.” She took a deep breath and then let it out in a long shuddering sigh. “I miss him.”
Her voice was husky with sleep as well as longing for her cat.
She settled further into Douglas and then again whispered softly, “Wanna kitty.”
Douglas pulled her deeper into his body.
“I’ll get you anything you want,” he promised her.
“Just a kitty,” she answered and then fell back to sleep.