A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,70
after a moment. “I think I shall reflect upon it with enormous pride and happiness. No man could be more flattered.”
She swatted his shoulder, and his chest rumbled with laughter. Helplessly she smiled.
“I gather Mr. Ramsay took a more prosaic approach to the matter?”
She nodded. Malcolm had kept a mistress. She supposed he enjoyed making love to that woman more. “’Twas a duty, for an heir.”
That sobered him. His hands stopped on her. “Ilsa . . . if there’s a child from this night—”
“Oh!” She blushed. “I doubt it. I was married six years without conceiving.”
“Unlikelier things have happened,” he said. “And if it did, I would do right by you and the bairn.”
Ilsa went still. He was meant for someone else and she knew it. She didn’t believe a child would happen, but it touched her that he would promise that. “Would you?” she murmured, thinking that most men in his position wouldn’t. They would wait for the wealthy, well-born English bride.
“Of course I would.” He kissed her and pulled her close. “Happily, I might add, for it would lead to more of this . . .” His fingers tickled down her ribs, making her twist and laugh again, the moment of dark thoughts fading away.
That was the moment Ilsa realized what was happening to her. His company exhilarated her. His kisses made her burn. His lovemaking made her feel like that hawk, soaring free into the night sky, and for a moment she wished with every fiber in her being that she could be in his bed every night, making love to him every night, and she suspected he wanted the same thing . . .
She was falling in love with him, and it looked to be a very hard fall. One that could leave her broken beyond repair.
“Ilsa.” His voice was velvety soft and rough with concern at the same time. He had sensed the change in her even though she hadn’t moved. “Don’t be frightened.”
She wasn’t—not of him. Of what he could do to her, if she lost her head and gave in to the yearning burning through her veins and muscles—through her very soul. Yes, she was right to be afraid of that.
For once in her life she would be sensible and cautious for her own sake, not because someone else forced it on her. She would remember her promise to Agnes, and why she had made it.
She made herself smile. “Afraid of you! ’Tis you who ought to be frightened of me, the notorious wild widow . . .”
“Stop,” he said. “You’re not that.”
“And here I’ve just seduced you like one.”
He smiled, but it was thoughtful and focused now. “When we return to town—”
“No.” She put her hand on his mouth. “I don’t want to talk about that. I want only to savor this. Tonight we are free like the hawks and the dolphins, able to go where we choose and frolic as we please. There will be time to talk about thornier subjects later, aye?”
He was quiet for a moment. “You must know I care for you . . .”
“And I care for you!” She managed a carefree smile. “Enough to wonder if you will make love to me once more before we must face the new day, and the long trip back to town.”
“Once?” His brow rose. “Twice more at least, I think. ’Tis hours until dawn.”
“When will we sleep?” she protested with a small laugh as he rolled over her.
“Sleep?” He nuzzled her neck. “I’m accustomed to guard duty all night. I don’t need sleep, particularly not when there’s a wild, ravenous beauty in my bed.”
“That would be . . . acceptable,” she gasped as she felt him, once again hard between her thighs.
He laughed as she curled her legs around his hips. “I’ll make you scream that someday: ‘Acceptable! God almighty, that was so—bloody—acceptable!’”
She was laughing as he pushed home, but then she stopped and lost herself to him.
And when he murmured later, as she lay exhausted and replete in his arm, that he did mean to talk about it later, she didn’t argue.
Chapter Sixteen
The next day dawned like the beginning of a glorious new world.
Despite getting very little sleep, Drew was up early, fairly bouncing on his feet as he oversaw preparations for the journey. Ilsa had stayed in his bed until the first pale glimmers of gray lightened the sky, before slipping away with one last lingering kiss.
Three times they had made love, teasing, gently, focused, and hard