It was dark and cool inside the house, which was paneled in gleaming rosewood and filled with heavy furniture. The windows were shrouded in jewel-colored velvets with silk fringe trim. Retaining Daisy’s hand in his, Matthew led her through the house to a room in the back.
As Daisy stepped across the threshold, she realized it was his bedroom. Her skin prickled with excitement beneath the binding of her corset. The room was tidy, smelling of beeswax and wood polish, the window covered with cream-colored lace that let in the daylight.
A few articles were neatly arranged on the dresser; a comb, a toothbrush, tins of toothpowder and soap, and on the washstand, a razor and strop. No pomades, waxes, colognes or creams, no cravat pins or rings. One could hardly call him a dandy.
Matthew closed the door and turned toward her. He seemed very large in the small room, his broad frame dwarfing their civilized surroundings. Daisy’s mouth went dry as she stared at him. She wanted to be close to him…she wanted to feel all his skin against hers.
“What is there between you and Llandrindon?” he demanded.
“Nothing. Only friendship. On my side, that is.”
“And on his side?”
“I suspect—well, he seemed to indicate that he would not be averse to—you know.”
“Yes, I know,” he said thickly. “And even though I can’t stand the bastard, I also can’t blame him for wanting you. Not after the way you’ve teased and tempted him all week.”
“If you’re trying to imply that I’ve been acting like some femme fatale—”
“Don’t try to deny it. I saw the way you flirted with him. The way you leaned close when you talked…the smiles, the provocative dresses…”
“Provocative dresses?” Daisy asked in bemusement.
“Like that one.”
Daisy looked down at her demure white gown, which covered her entire chest and most of her arms. A nun couldn’t have found fault with it. She glanced at him sardonically. “I’ve been trying for days to make you jealous. You would have saved me a lot of effort if you’d just admitted it straight off.”
“You were deliberately trying to make me jealous?” he exploded. “What in God’s name did you think that would accomplish? Or is turning me inside out your latest idea of an entertaining hobby?”
A sudden blush covered her face. “I thought you might feel something for me…and I hoped to make you admit it.”
Matthew’s mouth opened and closed, but he couldn’t seem to speak. Daisy wondered uneasily what emotion was working on him. After a few moments he shook his head and leaned against the dresser as if he needed physical support.
“Are you angry?” she asked apprehensively.
His voice sounded odd and ragged. “Ten percent of me is angry.”
“What about the other ninety percent?”
“That part is just a hairsbreadth away from throwing you on that bed and—” Matthew broke off and swallowed hard. “Daisy, you’re too damned innocent to understand the danger you’re in. It’s taking all the self-control I’ve got to keep my hands off you. Don’t play games with me, sweetheart. It’s too easy for you to torture me, and I’m at my limit. To put to rest any doubts you might have…I’m jealous of every man who comes within ten feet of you. I’m jealous of the clothes on your skin and the air you breathe. I’m jealous of every moment you spend out of my sight.”
Stunned, Daisy whispered, “You…you certainly haven’t shown any sign of it.”
“Over the years I’ve collected a thousand memories of you, every glimpse, every word you’ve ever said to me. All those visits to your family’s home, those dinners and holidays—I could hardly wait to walk through the front door and see you.” The corners of his mouth quirked with reminiscent amusement. “You, in the middle of that brash, bull-headed lot…I love watching you deal with your family. You’ve always been everything I thought a woman should be. And I have wanted you every second of my life since we first met.”
Daisy was filled with an agony of regret. “I was never even nice to you,” she said sorrowfully.
“I was damn glad you weren’t. If you had been, I probably would have gone up in flames on the spot.” Matthew stayed her with a gesture as she moved toward him. “No. Don’t. As I told you before, I can’t marry you under any circumstances. That’s not going to change. But it has nothing to do with how much I want you.” His eyes glowed like molten sapphire as he glanced over her slight form. “My God, how I want you,” he whispered.
Daisy ached with the desire to throw herself into his arms. “I want you too. So much that I don’t think I can let you go without knowing why.”
“If it was possible to explain my reasons, believe me, I would have by now.”
Daisy forced herself to ask the question she feared most. “Are you already married?”
Matthew’s gaze shot to hers. “God, no.”
Relief swept over her. “Then anything else can be resolved as long as you’ll tell me—”
“If you were just a bit more worldly,” Matthew said moodily, “you wouldn’t use phrases like ‘anything else can be resolved.’” He made his way to the other side of the dresser, leaving a clear path to the door.
He was silent for a long moment, as if considering some weighty matter.
Daisy was still and silent, holding his gaze. All she could offer him was patience. She waited without a word, without even blinking.
Matthew looked away from her, his expression distant. His eyes turned hard and flat as chips of polished cobalt. “A long time ago,” he eventually said, “I made an enemy, a powerful one, through no fault of my own. Because of his influence I was forced to leave Boston. And I have good reason to believe this man’s grievance will come back to haunt me someday. I’ve lived with that sword hanging over my head for years. I don’t want you anywhere near me when it drops.”
“But there must be something that can be done,” Daisy said eagerly, determined to confront this unknown enemy with every means at her disposal. “If you’ll just explain more, tell me his name and—”
“No.” The word was quiet, but it contained a finality that caused her to fall abruptly silent. “I’ve been as honest with you as I can, Daisy. I hope you won’t betray my confidence.” He gestured to the door. “Now it’s time for you to go.”
“Just like that?” she asked in bewilderment. “After what you just told me, you want me to leave?”
“Yes. Try not to let anyone see you.”
“It’s not fair that you get to speak your piece without letting me—”
“Life is seldom fair,” he said. “Even for a Bowman.”
Daisy’s thoughts raced as she stared at his hard profile. This wasn’t mere obstinacy on his part. This was conviction. He had left no room for argument, no opening for negotiation.
“Shall I go to Llandrindon, then?” she asked, hoping to provoke him.
“Yes.”
Daisy scowled. “I wish you’d be consistent. A few minutes ago you were ready to make mincemeat of him.”
“If you want him, I have no right to object.”
“If you want me, you have every right to say something!” Daisy strode to the door. “Why does everyone always claim women are illogical when men are a hundred times more so? First they want something, then they don’t, then they make irrational decisions based on secrets they won’t explain and no one is supposed to question them because a man’s word is final.”
As she reached for the doorknob, she saw the key in the lock, and her hand paused in mid-air.
She glanced at Matthew, who was firmly planted on the other side of the dresser to keep a safe distance between them.
Although Daisy was the mildest-tempered of all the Bowmans, she was by no means a coward. And she would not accept defeat without a fight.
“You’re forcing me to take desperate measures,” she said.
His reply was very soft. “There’s nothing you can do.”
He had left her no choice.
Daisy turned the key in the lock and carefully withdrew it.
The decisive click was abnormally loud in the silence of the room.
Calmly Daisy tugged the top edge of her bodice away from her chest. She held the key above the narrow gap.
Matthew’s eyes widened as he understood what she intended. “You wouldn’t.”
As he started around the dresser, Daisy dropped the key into her bodice, making certain it slipped beneath her corset. She sucked in her stomach and midriff until she felt the cold metal slide to her navel.
“Damn it!” Matthew reached her with startling speed. He reached out to touch her, then jerked his hands back as if he had just encountered open flame. “Take it out,” he commanded, his face dark with outrage.
“I can’t.”
“I mean it, Daisy!”
“It’s fallen too far down. I’ll have to take my dress off.”
It was obvious he wanted to kill her. But she could also feel the force of his longing. His lungs were working like bellows, and scorching heat radiated from his body.
His whisper contained the ferocity of a roar. “Don’t do this to me.”
Daisy waited patiently.
The next move was his.
He turned his back to her, the seams of his coat straining over bunched muscles. His fists clenched as he struggled to master himself. He took a shuddering breath, and another, and when he spoke his voice sounded thick, as if he had just awakened from a heavy sleep.
“Take off your gown.”
Trying not to antagonize him any more than was necessary, Daisy replied in an apologetic tone. “I can’t do it by myself. It buttons up the back.”
Matthew said something in a muffled voice that sounded very foul. After an eternity of silence he turned to face her. His jaw could have been cast in iron. “I’m not going to fall apart that easily. I can resist you, Daisy. I’ve had years of practice. Turn around.”
Daisy obeyed. As she bent her head forward, she could actually feel his gaze travel over the endless row of pearl buttons.
“How do you ever get undressed?” he muttered. “I’ve never seen so many blasted buttons on one garment.”
“It’s fashionable.”
“It’s ridiculous.”
“You can send a letter of protest to Godey’s Lady’s Book,” she suggested.
Giving a scornful snort, Matthew began on the top button. He tried to unfasten it while avoiding contact with her body.
“It helps if you slide your fingers beneath the placket,” Daisy said. “And then you can pop the button through the—”
“Quiet,” he snapped.
She closed her mouth.
Matthew battled with the buttons for another minute. With an exasperated grunt he followed her advice, slipping two fingers between her dress and her skin. As she felt his knuckles brush high on her spine, a shiver of delight ran down her back.
His progress was excruciatingly slow. Daisy could feel him fumbling with the same buttons over and over again.
“May I sit down, please?” she asked mildly. “I’m tired of standing.”
“There’s no place to sit.”
“Yes there is.” Breaking away from him, Daisy went to the four-poster bed and tried to climb onto it. Unfortunately the bed was an antique Sheraton, built high to avoid winter drafts and allow for a trundle below. The top of the mattress was level with her breasts. Hoisting herself upward, she tried to lever her hips onto the mattress.
Gravity defeated her.
“Usually,” Daisy said, struggling and squirming with her feet dangling, “there’s a stair-step provided—” She grabbed handfuls of the counterpane. “—for beds this tall.” Straining to hook a knee over the edge of the mattress, she continued, “Good God…if someone fell out of this bed at night…it would be fatal.”
She felt Matthew’s hands clamp around her waist. “The bed’s not that tall,” he said. Picking her up as if she were a child, he deposited her on the mattress. “It’s just that you’re short.”
“I’m not short. I’m…vertically disadvantaged.”
“Fine. Sit up.” His weight depressed the mattress behind her and his hands returned to the back of her dress.
Feeling the slight tremor of his fingers against her skin, Daisy was emboldened to remark, “I’ve never been attracted to tall men before. But you make me feel—”
“If you don’t keep quiet,” he interrupted curtly, “I’m going to strangle you.”
Daisy felt silent, listening to the rhythm of his breath as it turned deeper, less controlled. By contrast his fingers became more certain in their task, working along the row of pearls until her dress gaped open and the sleeves slipped from her shoulders.
“Where is it?” he asked.
“The key?”
His tone was deadly. “Yes, Daisy. The key.”
“It fell inside my corset. Which means…I’ll have to take that off too.”
There was no reaction to the statement, no sound or movement. Daisy twisted to glance at Matthew.
He seemed dazed. His eyes looked unnaturally blue against the flush on his face. She realized he was occupied with a savage inner battle to keep from touching her.
Feeling hot and prickly with embarrassment, Daisy pulled her arms completely out of her sleeves. She worked the dress over her hips, wriggling out of the filmy white layers, letting them slide to the floor in a heap.
Matthew stared at the discarded dress as if it were some kind of exotic fauna he had never seen before. Slowly his eyes returned to Daisy, and an incoherent protest came from his throat as she began to unhook her corset.
She felt shy and wicked, undressing in front of him. But she was encouraged by the way he seemed unable to tear his gaze from each newly revealed inch of pale skin. When the last metal hook came apart, she tossed the web of lace and stays to the floor. All that remained over her breasts was a crumpled chemise.
The key had dropped into her lap. Closing her fingers around the metal object, she risked a cautious glance at Matthew.
His eyes were closed, his forehead scored with furrows of pained concentration. “This isn’t going to happen,” he said, more to himself than to her.
Daisy leaned forward to tuck the key into his coat pocket. Gripping the hem of her chemise, she stripped it over her head. A tingling shock chased over her naked upper body. She was so nervous that her teeth had begun to chatter. “I just took my chemise off,” she said. “Don’t you want to look?”
“No.”
But his eyes had opened, and his gaze found her small, pink-tipped breasts, and the breath hissed through his clenched teeth. He sat without moving, staring at her as she untied his cravat and unbuttoned the layers of his waistcoat and shirt. She blushed everywhere but continued doggedly, rising to her knees to tug the coat from his shoulders.
He moved like a dreamer, slowly pulling his arms from the coat sleeves and waistcoat.
Daisy pushed his shirt open with awkward determination, her gaze drinking in the sight of his chest and torso. His skin gleamed like heavy satin, stretched taut over broad expanses of muscle. She touched the powerful vault of his ribs, trailing her fingertips to the rippled tautness of his midriff.
Suddenly Matthew caught her hand, seemingly undecided whether to push it away or press it closer.
Her fingers curled over his. She stared into his dilated blue eyes. “Matthew,” she whispered. “I’m here. I’m yours. I want to do everything you’ve ever imagined doing with me.”
He stopped breathing. His will foundered and collapsed, and suddenly nothing mattered except the demands of a desire that had been denied too long. With a rough groan of surrender, he lifted her onto his lap. Heat sank through the layers of their clothes, and Daisy gasped as the soft notch of her body cradled an unfamiliar hardness.
Matthew took her mouth with his, while his hands slid in restless paths over her body. As his fingers cupped the firm undercurve of her breast, her blood coursed frantically and the ache in her flesh became sharp and volatile. She fumbled with his shirt, trying to push her hands beneath it, trying to tear it away from his body.
Easing her down to the bed, Matthew paused to rip the shirt off, baring the magnificent contours of his chest and shoulders. He lowered his body to hers, and she moaned in pleasure at the feel of his naked skin. The familiar scent of him was all around her, the luxurious spice of clean male skin. He possessed her mouth with lavishly sensual kisses, his hands coursing tenderly over her half-dressed body. His thumb rubbed a lazy circle over her nipple, making it harder, darker, until she arched in helpless supplication.
Understanding the wordless plea, he bent and took the tip of her breast into his mouth. He tugged lightly, his tongue bringing fresh sparks of warmth to the surface of her skin. Daisy whimpered and shivered in his arms. Her nerves sent wild messages through her body as he moved to her other breast, kissing the peak into bright rosy distention.
“Do you know what I want from you?” she heard him ask hoarsely. “Do you understand what’s going to happen if we don’t stop?”
“Yes.”
Matthew lifted his head and gave her a doubtful glance.
“I’m not as innocent as you might think,” Daisy said earnestly. “I’m very well read.”
He turned his face away, and she had the impression he was fighting a smile. Then he looked back at her with piercing tenderness. “Daisy Bowman,” he said unevenly, “I’d spend eternity in hell for one hour with you.”
“Is that how long it takes? An hour?”
His reply was rueful. “Sweetheart, at this point it would be a miracle if I lasted one minute.”
She curled her arms around his neck. “You have to make love to me,” she told him. “Because if you don’t, I’ll never stop complaining about it.”
Matthew cradled her body against his, and kissed her forehead, and he was silent for so long that she was afraid he was going to refuse her. But then his warm hand moved slowly down her body, and her heart gave an excited leap. He wrapped the tapes of her drawers around his fingers and pulled to loosen them.
Her tummy rose and fell with her labored breathing, and embarrassment flooded her as his hand slipped beneath the fragile fabric. He was touching the fleece of private hair, the curls flattened against the vulnerable mound. He played with the soft locks, fluffing, stroking. The tip of his ring finger brushed over a place so sensitive that she jerked in surprise. Staring into her flushed face, Matthew gently parted the closed flesh.
“Daisy, love,” he whispered, “You’re so soft…so dainty…where shall I touch you? Here? Or here…”
“There,” she sobbed, as his fingers slid to just the right spot. “Yes…oh, there…”
His mouth moved in hot open kisses over her throat and down to her breast, while at the same time his fingers slipped farther between her legs. As he kneaded her intimately, she became aware of a disconcerting moisture in that secret place. She hadn’t expected that. Which made her wonder if she was quite as well-informed as she had previously thought.
Consternated, she began to say something but was abruptly silenced as she felt his finger nudge inside her. That was not something she had expected, either.
Matthew’s head lifted from her breast, his eyes filled with drowsy heat. He watched her face as he searched inside her body with a lightly massaging rhythm that drove her to an unbearable height of pleasure. She strained upward and moaned anxiously, returning his kisses with uncontrolled fervor.
“Do you like that?” he whispered.
“Yes, I…” She fought to speak between helpless gasps. “I thought…it was going to hurt.”
“Not from this.” A smile touched his mouth. “Later, however, you might have cause for complaint.” A shimmer of sweat gathered on his face as he felt the pulsing of her body around his exploring finger. “I don’t know if I can be gentle,” he said raggedly. “I’ve wanted you for too long.”
“I trust you,” she whispered.
Matthew shook his head, easing his hand away from her. “You have terrible judgment. You’re in bed with the last man in the world you should trust, and you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life.”
“Is this your idea of seductive banter?”
“I thought I should give you one last warning. Now you’re doomed.”
“Oh, good.” Daisy moved to help him as he stripped off her drawers and stockings.
Her eyes widened as he began to unbutton his trousers. Curious but shy, she reached down to help him. A shaky endearment left his lips as he felt her small, cool hand slip beneath the unbuttoned placket of his falls. She stroked carefully, learning the length and hardness of him, loving the way his body trembled. “How should I touch you?” she whispered.
Matthew shook his head with an unsteady laugh. “Daisy…I’d rather you didn’t just now.”
“Did I do it wrong?” she asked in worry.
“No, no—” He gathered her against him, kissing her cheek, her ear, her hair. “You do it too well.”
His hands swept over her in sensitive strokes as he urged her back against the pillows. He undressed and levered his body over hers, and she shivered at the delicious textures of him, hairiness and smoothness and heat. Too many things were happening at once—she couldn’t compass all of it—the moist, hot drift of his mouth, the long coaxing fingers, the brush of his hair against her breasts, her stomach…
The silky swirl of his tongue in the hollow of her navel sent fire licking through her veins. Hazily aware of the area his mouth was traversing, she stirred beneath him.
Not seeming to realize just where he was kissing her, Matthew persisted, sliding lower until Daisy let out a muffled yelp and pushed hard at his encroaching head.
“What is it?” he asked, rising to his elbows.
Crimson with mortification, Daisy could hardly bring herself to explain. “You were too close to my…well, you accidentally…”
As her voice faded, understanding dawned in Matthew’s eyes. Quickly he bent his head to hide his expression, and a tremor ran through his shoulders. He replied with great care, still looking away from her. “It wasn’t accidental. I meant to do that.”
Daisy was astonished. “But you were going to kiss me right on my—” She broke off as his gaze met hers, laughter dancing in his blue eyes.
He wasn’t embarrassed at all—he was amused.
“You’re not shocked, are you?” he asked. “I thought you were well read.”
“Well, no one would ever write about something like that.”
He shrugged, his eyes glowing. “You’re the literary authority.”
“You’re making fun of me,” she said.
“Just a little,” he whispered, and kissed her stomach again. Her legs jerked against his restraining hands.
She began to chatter nervously as she felt his mouth wander to her hip. “In s-some of the novels I’ve read, there were certain parts, of course…” She inhaled sharply at the sensation of his teeth gently scoring over her inner thigh. “…but…I suppose they were written so euphemistically that I didn’t qu-quite understand…oh, please, I don’t think you should do that—”
“What about this?”
“Definitely not that.” She twisted to escape him.
But his hands had hooked beneath her knees and he held them apart as he did wicked things with his tongue. She began to shiver as he found the sensitive flesh he had touched before, and his mouth was soft and hot and demanding, suckling until rapture flooded her from that place where his mouth possessed her, and when she begged him to stop he tormented her even more, licking, nuzzling deeper and deeper, and suddenly the pleasure uncoiled and she was crying out in dazzling relief.
After a long time Matthew moved upward to hold her. Fiercely she wrapped her arms and legs around him. He settled between her wide-open thighs, shaking with the effort to be gentle. She was invaded by a sundering thrust, and Matthew murmured love words against her throat, trying to soothe her even as he pushed farther, taking her, holding her.
When they were completely joined he went still, trying not to cause her further pain. He was so hard inside her, and Daisy absorbed the curious feeling of being possessed, of being utterly helpless and at the same time…in this moment he belonged to her utterly. She knew she filled his mind and heart even as he filled her body. Wanting to give him the same pleasure he had given her, she arched her hips.
“Daisy…no, wait…”
She lifted again, and again, straining to be closer to him. He groaned and began to press downward in a subtle rhythm. Crushing his mouth over hers, he shuddered from the intensity of his climax.
They were both silent for minutes afterward, while Matthew held her close and cradled her head against his shoulder. He withdrew from her carefully and hushed her with his lips as she protested.
“Let me take care of you.”
Daisy didn’t understand what he meant, but she was so enervated that she lay with her eyes closed as he left the bed. He returned soon with a damp cloth, neatly wiping her perspiring body and the stinging flesh between her thighs.
When he lowered beside her, she burrowed against him, sighing in pleasure as he drew the covers over them. She moved until her ear rested on the sturdy beat of his heart.
Daisy supposed she ought to feel ashamed, locking herself in his bedroom and demanding to be seduced. Instead she felt triumphant. And strangely precarious, as if she were balanced on the edge of a new kind of intimacy that went beyond the physical.
She wanted to know everything about him—she had never known such devouring curiosity about another person. But perhaps a little patience was in order until they both had time to adjust to their new circumstances.
As the warmth of their bodies mingled beneath the bedclothes, Daisy was filled with the overwhelming urge to sleep. She had never suspected how nice it would be to lie quietly in a man’s arms, breathing his scent, his strength surrounding her.
“Don’t fall asleep,” she heard him warn. “We have to get you out of here.”
“I’m not sleeping. I’m just…” she paused to yawn hugely. “…resting my eyes.”
“Only for a minute.” His hand passed over her hair and down her back in a long stroke. That was all it took to lull her into sweet, dark oblivion.
Daisy awakened to the patter of rain on the roof, and the waft of a moisture-heavy breeze from the open window. The Hampshire weather had decided to cool the afternoon with a spontaneous shower, the kind that usually lasted no more than a half-hour and left the ground spongy and fragrant.
Blinking, Daisy registered her unfamiliar surroundings, the masculine bedroom…the vivid strangeness of a naked muscular body at her back. And the stirring of someone’s breath in her hair. She tensed in surprise but lay quietly, wondering if Matthew was awake. His breathing didn’t change. But gradually his arm slid across her body, his fingers spreading over her front.
Gently he settled her back against him, and they watched the rain in silence. Daisy tried to remember if there had ever been a time in her life when she had felt so safe and content. No, she decided. Nothing could compare to this.
Feeling her smile against his arm, Matthew murmured, “You like the rain.”
“Yes.” She explored the hairy surface of his leg with her toes, rather amazed at how long his calves were. “Some things are always better when it’s raining. Like reading. Or sleeping. Or this.”
“Lying in bed with me?” He sounded amused.
Daisy nodded. “It feels as if we’re the only two people in the world.”
He traced the line of her collarbone, and the side of her throat. “Did I hurt you, Daisy?” he whispered.
“Well, it was rather uncomfortable when you—” she stopped and blushed. “But I expected that. My friends told me it improves after the first time.”
His fingertips wandered to the outline of her ear, and the blood-heated curve of her cheek. There was a smile in his voice as he said, “I’ll do my best to see that it does.”
“Are you sorry it happened?” Her fingers clenched as she waited tensely for his answer.
“Good Lord, no.” He brought her small fist to his mouth and kissed it open, and flattened her palm against the side of his face. “It’s what I’ve wanted most in my entire life. And the one thing I knew I could never have. I’m surprised. Shocked, even. But never sorry.”
Daisy turned and snuggled against him, sandwiching one of his thighs between her own.
The rain beat out a brisk song against the side of the house, some of it coming through the window. Considering the idea of getting out of bed, Daisy shivered a little, and felt Matthew draw the covers higher over her bare shoulder.
“Daisy,” he asked without heat, “where is the damn key?”
“I put it in your coat pocket,” she said helpfully. “Didn’t you see? No?…well, I suppose you were distracted at the time.” She trailed her hand over his chest, letting her palm graze the point of his nipple. “You’re probably angry with me for locking us in the bedroom.”
“Enraged,” he agreed. “I insist you do it every night after we’re married.”
“Are we going to get married?” Daisy whispered, raising her head.
His eyes were warm, but there was no hint of pleasure in his voice. “Yes, we’re going to marry. Although you’ll probably hate me for it someday.”
“Why in the world would I…oh.” Daisy remembered what he had told her about the likelihood of his past catching up to him someday. “I could never hate you,” she said. “And I’m not afraid of your secrets, Matthew. Whatever comes, I’ll face it with you. Although you should know I find it exasperating when you throw out comments like that and refuse to explain.”
There was a sudden catch of laughter in his chest. “That’s only one of many reasons you find me exasperating.”
“True.” She crawled on top of him and nuzzled his chest like an inquisitive kitten. “But I like exasperating men much more than the nice ones.”
Two notches appeared between his dark brows. “Such as Llandrindon?”
“Yes, he’s much nicer than you.” Experimentally Daisy put her mouth over his nipple and touched it with her tongue. “Does that feel the same to you as it does to me?”
“No. Although the effort is appreciated.” He tilted her face upward. “Did Llandrindon kiss you?”
She nodded slowly in the framework of his hands. “Just once.”
Jealousy entered his voice. “Did you like it?”
“I wanted to. I tried to.” She closed her eyes and turned her cheek into his palm. “But it wasn’t at all like your kisses.”
“Daisy,” he whispered, turning until she was tucked beneath him once more. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” His fingers investigated the fragile angles of her face, the smiling curve of her lips. “But now it seems impossible that I held out as long as I did.”
Her nerves, sated as they were, stirred beneath the caress of his fingertips. “Matthew…what will happen next? Will you speak to my father?”
“Not yet. In the interest of preserving at least a semblance of decorum, I’m going to wait until I return from Bristol. By that time most of the guests will have left, and the family will be able to deal with the situation in relative privacy.”
“My father will be overjoyed. But Mother will have conniptions. And Lillian…”
“Will explode.”
Daisy sighed. “My brothers aren’t too fond of you, either.”
“Really,” he said in mock surprise.
Daisy stared worriedly into his shadowed face. “What if you change your mind about me? What if you come back and tell me that you were wrong, you don’t want to marry me, and—”
“No,” Matthew said, stroking the rampant black waves of her hair. “There’s no turning back. I’ve taken your innocence. I’m not going to avoid my responsibility.”
Disgruntled by the choice of words, Daisy frowned.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“The way you put it…your responsibility…as if you have to atone for some terrible mistake. It’s not the most romantic thing to say, especially in present circumstances.”
“Oh.” Matthew grinned suddenly. “I’m not a romantic man, sweetheart. You knew that already.” He bent his head and kissed the side of her neck, and nipped at her ear. “But I am responsible for you now.” He worked his way down to her shoulder. “For your safety…your welfare…your pleasure…and I take my responsibilities very seriously…”
He kissed her breasts, drawing the taut peaks into the melting heat of his mouth. His hand parted her thighs and played gently between them.
A moan of pleasure slipped from her throat, and he smiled. “You make the sweetest sounds,” he murmured. “When I touch you like this…and this…and the way you cry out when you come for me…”
Her face burned. She tried to be quiet, but in another moment he had coaxed another helpless moan from her.
“Matthew…?” Her toes curled as she felt him slip lower, his tongue tickling the hollow of her navel.
His voice was muffled by the covers that tented over his head. “Yes, chatterbox?”
“Are you going to do—” she paused with a gasp as she felt him push her knees apart, “—what you did before?”
“It would seem so.”
“But we’ve already…” The puzzle of why he would want to make love to her twice in a row was suddenly abandoned. She felt him investigating the tender juncture of her thigh and groin, the insides of her legs, and she went weak. Soft, artful nibbling…lazy strokes of his tongue…toying with the sore opening of her body…easing upward until he found a place that made her sob and groan, yes, there, yes…
He teased her with maddening delicacy, slowly moving away, then returning with warm, rapid flicks…she groped for his head between her thighs and held him there, arching and shivering and pulsing with pleasure.
He brought her steadily upward to a height of impossible rapture, above the storm, above the sky itself…and when she regained awareness, she was in his arms, her pounding heartbeat soothed by the gentle sound of spring rain.