Queen of my Hart - Emily Royal Page 0,79
than lady luck,” Dexter said.
Meggie approached the door, aware of two pairs of eyes following her. When she turned, her husband and his friend both stared at her, lips parted.
“I wonder if you’d be obliging and close your mouths, gentlemen?” she asked. “I find myself reminded of the biology lessons I used to give at the school at Blackwood Heath.”
If anything, they parted their lips further.
“Mrs. Preston had a book on wildlife,” she explained. “To this day, I remember a beautiful illustration of wide-mouthed frogs.”
She dipped a curtsey and exited the room before either man could answer.
As Meggie reached her chamber, she heard a door slam, followed by hurried footsteps, then her husband burst into her chamber.
“Dexter, I…”
He grasped her shoulders and crashed his mouth into hers. She parted her lips, and he slid his tongue in, claiming her. He groaned as he feasted on her, his strong hands holding her firm. Then he pushed her back until she fell onto the bed.
“God forgive me, Meggie, what you do to me!” He fumbled at his necktie and threw it onto the floor, then began to unbutton his shirt. “Oh, to hell with it!”
He fisted his hands in the shirt and ripped it open, and buttons clattered to the floor. Then he reached for her skirts, and she grasped his wrists.
“Dexter, no.”
Raw, primal lust flashed in his eyes, but he stopped.
“Is this not what you want?”
Dear lord, yes, she wanted him! The smoldering gazes he’d cast in her direction over dinner had sent shockwaves of desire through her. When he’d licked the sorbet spoon, devouring her with his eyes, she imagined the feel of his tongue on her flesh and squeezed her thighs together to ease the ache, praying that Mr. Peyton didn’t notice her state of arousal.
“Do you want me because I’ve earned you a thousand pounds?” she asked. “If so, what does that make me?”
“A damned clever woman, “he said, “and the best wife a man could hope for.” He reached for her skirts again.
“Do you think me a harlot?”
“God, no, Meggie,” he said. “I’ve wanted to make love to you all evening. Had Peyton not been with us, I’d have swept that sorbet aside, spread you over the table, and feasted on you instead.”
Her insides throbbed at the image of him crawling over the dining room table.
He sighed. “How did you know how to win the game?”
“I studied chess at the school,” she said. “I learned the moves from one of the books there.”
“But what you did tonight wasn’t the mere execution of moves. There were very few pieces left, and you moved one of them right into the path of Peyton’s knight.”
“I sacrificed it,” she said. “To force him to move his knight out of the way and weaken his defenses. I learned a long time ago that sacrifice was the key to victory. And, if necessary, you sacrifice your most powerful piece to gain a strategic advantage.”
He reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips. His expression had softened into one of compassion—and love.
“Not all sacrifices are justified,” he said. “I would never sacrifice my queen, for she is my strength, even though she doesn’t know it.” He cupped her face and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
“You are my queen, Meggie,” he whispered, “the one piece on my board, which I never wish to be without.”
She blinked, and her eyes filmed over with moisture.
“I must yield the spoils to you,” he said. “One thousand pounds. Peyton would never forgive me if I kept it for myself, given that it was you who secured the final victory.”
One thousand pounds…
The answer to all her problems.
“I should like that,” she said. “Would it be mine to spend how I wish?”
“It is a rather large sum.”
“I’m thinking of patronizing a charity,” she said. “Mrs. Pelham told me about some of her ventures—such as a shelter for disadvantaged widows.”
How easily the lie slipped off her tongue! Was this what happened when one had a secret? A small lie was required to conceal it, then a second lie to hide the first—then lie after lie, until the perpetrator had forgotten the truth.
“How like you, to think of others!” Dexter said.
He traced a line across the front of her gown, then dipped his finger into the valley between her breasts.
“Now…where were we?”
She lay back and lifted her skirts. His smile broadened as she parted her legs, and he unbuttoned his breeches.
Her release came as soon as he entered inside