Royal Blood - By Rhys Bowen Page 0,7

finished every morsel on my plate, then worked my way through the bread and butter pudding and a glass of port. I was feeling content with the world as the taxi whisked us back to Rannoch House. Darcy escorted me up the steps and helped me put the key in the door when I was having trouble locating the lock. At the back of my brain a whisper was saying that I was probably just a little drunk while another whisper added that I probably shouldn’t be letting Darcy come into the house late at night when I was all alone.

“Holy Mother of God, but it’s cold and bleak in here,” Darcy said as we closed the front door behind us. “Is there nowhere warm in this confounded place?”

“Only the bedroom,” I said. “I try to keep a fire going in there.”

“The bedroom. Good idea,” he said and steered me toward the staircase. We ascended together, his arm around my waist. I wasn’t conscious of taking the steps. I was half floating, intoxicated with the wine and his closeness.

The last embers of a fire still glowed in the bedroom fireplace and it felt comfortably warm after the frigidity of the rest of the house.

“Ah, that’s better,” Darcy said.

I saw the bed before me and flung myself down on it. “Ah, my bed. Bliss,” I said.

Darcy stood looking down at me with amusement. “I must say, that wine certainly has done wonders for your inhibitions.”

“As you very well knew it would,” I said, wagging a finger at him. “I know your evil intentions, Mr. O’Mara. Don’t think I can’t see through them.”

“And yet I haven’t noticed your telling me to go.”

“You just said that the purpose of life was to have fun and adventure,” I said, kicking off one shoe so violently that it flew across the room. “And you’re right. I’ve been miserable and boring for too long. Twenty-two years old and a boring virgin. What is the point of that?”

“No point at all,” Darcy said softly, removing his overcoat and draping it over the back of a chair. His jacket followed and then he loosened his tie.

“Don’t leave me all alone here, Darcy,” I said in what I hoped was a seductive voice.

“I’ve never been known to turn down an invitation like that,” Darcy said. He sat to take off his shoes, then he perched on the edge of the bed. “You’ll make that lovely dress all rumpled. Let me help you off with it, my lady.” He lifted me into a sitting position, which was no longer easy, as my limbs didn’t seem to want to obey me and I have to confess that the room was swinging around just a little. I felt his hands down my back as he undid the hooks on my dress. I felt it swishing over my head and then the cold air on the silk of my underslip.

“I’m cold.” I shivered. “Come and keep me warm.”

“To hear is to obey,” he said and took me into his arms. I turned my face toward him and his lips found mine. The kiss was so intense and demanding that I found it hard to breathe. His tongue was exploring my mouth and I was floating on a pink cloud of ecstasy.

This is bliss, I said to myself. This is what I’ve been waiting for.

I was off on that pink cloud, flying over fields with Darcy beside me until I realized that his lips were no longer on mine and I was feeling cold again. I opened my eyes. Darcy was sitting up on the side of the bed, putting on his shoes.

“What’s the matter?” I asked blearily. “Don’t you want me anymore, Darcy? You’ve been trying to get me into bed since we met and now here we are in a big empty house and you’re going?”

“You fell asleep,” he said. “And you’re plastered.”

“I confess to being just teeny bit tipsy, but wasn’t that what you were planning?”

“That was my idea when I came up with the oysters and the champagne, but I find I’ve got a moral streak I didn’t know I had, when it comes to you.” He laughed almost bitterly. “When I make love to you for the first time, my sweet Georgie, I want you to be awake and fully aware of what you’re doing. I don’t want you to fall asleep in the middle of things, and I don’t want you to think that I took advantage of

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