THE WEEKEND COULDN’T get here fast enough. More than halfway through the summer semester, up until now the days had been flying by. But this week, the hours dragged as Bonnie counted each one until her trip with Theo. To keep herself occupied, she visited several more of the local tea shops on her checklist and spent most evenings writing in her journal. She’d had various story ideas flit in and out of focus, and she ran with them for as long as they held her interest. So far, nothing had stuck beyond a few pages. But that didn’t matter; she was rediscovering her love of words. As long as the ideas kept coming, she’d keep writing.
At last, Friday afternoon arrived, and she hopped a train. Since the Lake District was in the opposite direction of Cambridge, Theo had suggested she take a train to the station closest to his home. Rather than waste time driving in a circle, he’d pick her up from there and they’d be off. He was waiting for her when she arrived and helped carry her things to the car. But it wasn’t the classy aging James Bond–mobile he usually drove. “What happened to 007?”
“I love her, but I don’t think she has many long road trips left in her,” Theo admitted. “This is my sister’s car.”
“I will never understand why cars are referred to in the feminine,” Bonnie mused as he held the door open for her. She realized she’d been letting him do little things like that more often. But somehow, she wasn’t bothered by it. The gesture didn’t feel patronizing. Maybe it was because of the way he did it or maybe it was that the chip on her shoulder had lifted. Or maybe it was both.
“I never really thought about it,” he admitted, setting her overnight bag in the back.
Overnight bag. As in she was staying overnight. With Theo. They hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements, but she’d rather hoped things would figure themselves out. Bonnie buckled her seat belt. Beneath the strap, her belly quivered. She felt all nervous and giddy. Like she was headed to her first school dance or something.
“So, you live nearby?” she asked as he left the station and headed north.
He nodded. “The Abbey is about ten minutes from here.”
“Abbey?” That sounded grand, and very Jane Austeny. Part of Bonnie wished they’d stop by his home on the way. She was dying with curiosity to see what it looked like, but also a little ashamed of her curiosity because it stemmed from her fascination with the fact that he was a duke. A fascination she couldn’t completely deny.
For the most part, she forgot Theo held the highest rank in the aristocracy, save for a monarch. But sometimes, she’d remember, and a little thrill would shoot through her. She wasn’t proud of it, but there it was. And it helped her understand why he might be wary of letting people know.
It was closing in on seven in the evening when Theo pulled up to a quaint gray stone building, long fingers of ivy stretching toward the cobbled roof. “Is this it?” Bonnie yawned. She’d nodded off somewhere around Darrington, where the endless stretches of highway surrounded by green pastures reminded her of driving through Wisconsin.
“No. The cottage is only a bit farther down the road, but I thought I’d stop here and we could have supper.”
Bonnie’s stomach grumbled loudly in response and Theo laughed. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”
The café was storybook quaint, with charming little wooden tables like spools of thread and a counter lined with glass jars full of old-fashioned sweets. Despite the noise from her empty belly, Bonnie didn’t have much of an appetite. The twinge of nervousness she’d felt at the train station had abated over the long drive, but now that she knew they were almost at the cottage, that they were perhaps only minutes away from the place she’d be spending the night with Theo …
“Everything all right?” he asked, reading her mind as usual. Was she that transparent, or was he just that good at interpreting her thoughts?
“Yeah.” She smiled at him and soaked a heel of bread in her soup, tomato basil, not very adventurous, but one of her favorites. “I think I’m just a little sleepy.”
“I’ll have you in bed soon enough,” Theo said, then froze, sandwich halfway to his mouth. He set his sandwich back on his plate and cleared his throat. “That didn’t come out right.”
Was he blushing? Bonnie grinned. For some perverse reason, realizing he was nervous too made her less nervous. Appetite suddenly restored, she hurried to finish her soup.
Not long after, they drove past a wooden gate painted a bright bold purple. Theo maneuvered the car down the narrow gravel path slowly, and as they rounded a bend, Bonnie sucked in a breath. He’d called it a cottage, but the structure was much larger than what she’d imagined. Three stories, the walls made of the same gray stone as the café they’d eaten at, the roof was slate, with a row of adorable dormer windows. And rising up behind the house was what seemed, in Bonnie’s Midwestern imagination, the looming shadow of mountains.
The setting sun was slowly slipping past the tree-lined ridge, painting the sky in bold streaks of color. Orange and gold and rose, lavender and midnight blue.
Theo sat, quietly watching the sunset with her. Once the sun drifted below the craggy horizon, and the twilight sky began to fade, he asked, “What do you think?”
“It’s perfect.” The words fell from her lips with breathless sincerity. If she had closed her eyes and described her dream home to a sketch artist, this would be darn close to the end result.
Already half in love, Bonnie fell the rest of the way the moment Theo opened the front door. Simple, yet elegant, grand but somehow still cozy, she stepped over the threshold and her heart said home.
Theo dropped their bags by the stairs leading up to the second floor. “Mrs. Lindsey?” he called. “You about?”
“In the kitchen,” an aged yet pleasant voice called from the back of the house.
Taking her hand, Theo led Bonnie down the hall.
The kitchen, Bonnie was surprised to discover, included modern appliances nestled within antique woodwork. A long wooden island stretched across the length of the room. An older woman stood at the counter, slicing a brick of cheese, silver hair a halo of tight curls.
Her eyes lit up when she caught sight of Theo, and she set down the knife, maneuvering her short but ample frame around the island. “Your Grace, so good to see you.”
Theo smiled and wrapped the woman in a hug. “You too, Mrs. Lindsey.” He gestured to Bonnie. “Please meet my guest, Miss Bonnie Blythe.”
“Miss.” The housekeeper nodded, bobbing a curtsy. “A pleasure.”
Bonnie felt a little tongue-tied. The whole “Your Grace” thing still threw her. And what now? Was she supposed to nod, or maybe curtsy back? She settled for a smile. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lindsey.”
“I’m sure you’re peckish after that long drive. I was just about to set out a tin of biscuits.” The housekeeper bustled over to a large pantry.
“Very thoughtful of you,” Theo told the woman.
With a sweet tug of affection, Bonnie noted he didn’t mention they’d already stopped for supper in town. “Yes, thank you,” she added.
Theo moved to a glass-fronted cabinet and pulled two wineglasses off the shelf. “Please.” He glanced over at her. “Make yourself at home.”
“Where’s the restroom?” she asked.
“Around the corner by the stairs, down the hall. Third door on your left.” He pulled a corkscrew from a drawer. “Don’t get lost.”
She was tempted. If he only knew how hard she was fighting the urge to run up and down the stairs like a puppy exploring a new place, poking her head into each room.
Mrs. Lindsey wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ll show you, dear.”
Bonnie paused at the stairs to grab the overnight kit out of her bag before hurrying to catch up with the housekeeper. “This house is lovely,” she said, taking in each detail, from the wainscoting in the hall to the detailed trim around each doorframe.
“I’ve always thought so,” Mrs. Lindsey agreed.
“How long have you worked here?” Bonnie asked, hoping she wasn’t breaking some rule of etiquette or something. Ah well, she could blame it on being a boorish American.
“Oh, since well before His Grace was born,” Mrs. Lindsey answered. “My mister as well.”
“Your husband works here too?”
“Mm.” She nodded. “He’s the groundskeeper.”
“You both live here, then?”
“In the cottage up the hill.” The housekeeper stopped near a window and pointed.
Bonnie followed the direction of her finger, to where a cozy building sat nestled beneath a large willow tree. Lights glowed in the windows and smoke curled from a chimney in the thatched roof. Like everything else in the Lakelands, it looked like something out of a fairy tale.
“And that’s the loo,” Mrs. Lindsey added, pointing to a door down the hall. “There’s fresh soap and I’ve just laundered the linens, so you should be set. But if you need anything else, you know where to find me.” The housekeeper nodded her chin toward the cottage.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll say good night to his grace and be on my way.” She ducked a quick curtsy and was gone.
Even the bathroom in this house was a treasure. A little jewel box of a space, with lushly patterned wallpaper adorning the walls and a vintage pedestal sink, above which hung a large ornate beveled mirror. Bonnie rinsed her face and brushed her teeth, digging in her kit for floss. Then she took a good look at herself, running her fingers through her hair, only succeeding in making the curls messier than before. Stop stalling and get out there.
Exiting the bathroom, she slipped off her sandals, bare feet slapping quietly over the honey-colored pine floors as she retraced her steps. Bonnie recalled the mental checklist she’d made of all the things she wanted to do with Theo the next time they were together. To date, she hadn’t made much progress on that list, and it was time to get busy.
Literally.
After he’d seen Mrs. Lindsey out with a promise to meet with her husband in the morning, Theo poured two glasses of wine and set them on the low table in the sitting room situated off the kitchen, then kicked off his shoes and tossed them by the doors leading out to the back patio. He’d missed this place. Why didn’t he come out here more often? The moment he pulled past the gate and began the crawl up the winding path to the house, he felt lighter, more relaxed. More … himself. As if he was able to be someone here he wasn’t allowed to be anywhere else.
He heard the door to the downstairs loo open and called out, “In here.”
She padded through the kitchen in her bare feet. Theo loved that—loved she already seemed so comfortable here. He’d watched her face carefully when he led her inside earlier and had caught the rush of emotion sweep across her features. It was then he knew she felt it too. This house spoke to her, the same way it did him. He was so glad he’d brought her here.
Once more, he wondered how he’d ever be able to give this place up, even for a few weeks at a time.
“What are you thinking about?” Bonnie asked.
Theo ran a hand through his hair. “I have a confession.”
“Oh?” Her auburn brows drew together in concern. “Is something wrong?”
“No, not exactly.” He took her hand and led her to the sofa. They sat, and he handed her a wineglass. “I wasn’t entirely forthcoming about my reasons for coming here,” he began, fiddling with the stem of his own glass. “It’s not just to go on holiday. Remember when I mentioned my family’s, uh, financial issues?”
“You said it’s your job to keep the ‘bloody ship from sinking.’”
“Quite.” He couldn’t help the grin at her mimicking of his accent. “Well, this cottage could be a life preserver. We’re looking into renting out the property.”
“Ah.” Bonnie swallowed. “Is there a lot you have to do? Will I be in the way?”
“No.” He shook his head. “No, of course not. I have a few things I need to go over, some items to review with the groundskeeper, but nothing too serious.” He glanced up at her, feeling loads lighter after his admission and suddenly playful. “Still plenty of time for the surprise I promised you.” He winked.
“That’s right,” she said, swirling her wine around in her glass. “I almost forgot about my surprise. What was it again? LMB?”
“LMP.”
“And what does that stand for?” She blinked innocently.
“I’m not falling for your sly tricks,” he warned.
“Can’t fault a girl for trying.” She flashed him a cheeky grin and sipped her wine. “I have a list of other things I was thinking about trying,” she added, watching him over the rim of her glass, eyes hot as sin.
Theo gulped his wine. “I recall you mentioning a fondness for lists.”
She set her glass on the table and scooted closer to him. His heart rate sped up, chest rising and falling rapidly as his breathing became shallow, the short quick intake of breath leaving him dizzy. And all she’d done was sit next to him.
Christ, he had it bad. His cock, already at half-mast most of the day, reported for duty, springing to full attention. He shifted on the couch, setting his wineglass down next to hers. When he leaned back, she moved closer still, her arm brushing against his, their thighs touching. He stared at the hint of bare skin showing below her skirt.
The freckle on her knee sent a rush of memories flooding through him: pressing her onto the hotel floor, her skirt hiked up to her waist, kissing that freckle, licking the soft smooth skin of her thigh, tasting her … He’d lived on those memories for months, replaying those moments over and over again. But no more.
It was time to make some new memories. Right now, right here, in this moment. Theo reached out, letting his hand slide across the top of her knee. Her muscles quivered. His fingertips flirted with the hem of her skirt. “I want to touch you,” he confessed, voice low and urgent. “I need to touch you.”
She nodded, spreading her knees, opening her legs for him.
Theo groaned and slid a hand under her skirt, his other hand reaching up, fingers threading through her hair as he pulled her mouth to his. He kissed her, tongue going deep, as his hand moved higher up her leg. He brushed against her knickers, felt the wet heat of her on his palm before he slipped one finger under the elastic band and stroked her.
“God, you feel good,” he ground against her mouth, finger plunging inside her.
She gasped, body clenching around him. His balls clenched in response. Gritting his teeth, he slipped another finger inside. She was so tight, so wet. He ached to have his cock inside her. He curved his fingers, moving them in a slow circle, learning the intimate shape of her.
Mimicking the motion of his hand, her hips rotated, bringing his fingers deeper. He picked up the pace, and so did she, body bucking against him, soft staccato moans tearing from her throat, building in intensity. His mouth kept moving over hers, devouring those sexy little sounds.
She kissed him back with fierce intensity, her hands gripping his shoulders, sliding down his back, over his hips, coming to rest on his belt. Hell yes, oh please yes. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Please, put your hands on me.”
“So polite,” she said, a teasing lilt coloring her voice. “How can I refuse?” He held his breath as her fingers worked his belt, and then the buttons on his fly, until finally she was rubbing her hand along his length, through the fabric of his shorts, but still, it felt bloody fucking good. He jerked against her, pushing his cock deeper into her hand. She stroked him, over and over, traced the shape of him beneath the cotton with her fingers, played with him until he was ready to lose his damn mind.
He grabbed her knickers and yanked, ripping them off her. “Christ, sorry.” He held up the torn garment.
She laughed. “Don’t be, they’re in the way.” And then she was pulling his shorts over his hips, and he was helping her. Sliding his pants down, kicking them off, his shorts quickly following.
He stripped off his shirt, then made quick work of her skirt and top. Slowing down, his fingers traced the delicate lines of her bra, brushed against the clasp. “May I?”
She nodded. Theo undid her bra, and it slipped from her shoulders, falling to the floor. He reached for her, settling her on top of him, her gorgeous little tits bobbing right in his face. “Hello.” He grinned, reaching up to cup her, squeezing her breasts together. He bent his head and ran his tongue over both hard, pink peaks.
“Oh,” she moaned, “oh, I like that.” She arched, head tossed back, chest thrusting forward, filling his mouth with her.
He licked and sucked and nibbled until she was moaning nonstop, an incoherent incantation of need. She straddled him, rubbing against him, the curls between her thighs brushing the tip of his cock, making him wild. So close, so bloody close. He released her breasts and kissed her neck, licked the hollow of her throat, pressed his mouth to the rapid flutter of her pulse just under her ear.
His hands dropped to her waist and slid over the lush curves of her hips. He remembered the shape of her, had memorized each dip and swell the one time before he’d been lucky enough to have his hands on her like this. And now, luck was with him again. He hoped it never left him because he never wanted to stop touching her.
“Bonnie.” Theo pulled back, gazing at her face, wanting to look in her eyes. “I need to be inside you.”
She bit her lip, flushed cheeks growing rosier. Her sudden virginal shyness a sharp contrast to the vixen she’d been moments before. But if she was nervous, he’d wait. “Okay,” she said, surprising him with an impish smile.
“Okay,” he echoed, willing his heart to slow down before it pounded a hole through his chest. He nudged her, sliding her off his lap so he could bend over and retrieve the condom he’d stashed in his pocket. “No comments about being a perv. I wanted to be prepared,” he said.
“I’m currently staring at your bare ass, so I’m probably not in a position to judge,” she admitted, giggling.
He glanced over his shoulder, and sure enough, the saucy wench was ogling his naked bum. “Who’s the perv now?” he teased, ripping the foil open. He sat back on the couch and began to roll the condom down over his cock.
Next to him, she watched intently, eyes following his every move.
It turned him on, knowing she was watching, his cock swelling in his hand, balls heavy and aching. Bloody fucking hell, he was going to explode soon. “Show’s over, woman,” he growled, pulling her back onto his lap. He was so close, he didn’t want to risk coming before she did. This way she could control things better, determine how fast, how deep, and he could focus on controlling himself.
Straddling him once more, she stared down at their bodies as he held her hips and guided her into place. When the head of his cock was snug against her, he paused. Meeting her gaze, he told her, “When you’re ready.” Christ, please be ready soon.
She nodded, thighs trembling as she lowered herself and began to slide down his length.
Oh God, oh sweet Christ, she was tight, so fucking tight. Theo glanced down. He’d been wrong. The show was far from over. If he kept watching her sweet pussy take him slow like this, he’d lose it before he was fully inside her. He shut his eyes and ordered himself to breathe.
Five thousand years later, she’d almost worked her way all the way down his shaft when she suddenly stopped moving. His eyes snapped open. Her brow was furrowed, tongue pressed between her teeth. “All good?” he croaked.
She began to nod again, but then paused. “No,” she said, shaking her head, “I can’t.”
His heart stopped, blood freezing in his veins. “What is it, love? What can’t you do?”
“I don’t think I can, um”—she shifted on his lap—“go any farther.”
Relief flooded Theo’s body, and he laughed.
“It’s not funny!” She frowned. “I think I’m stuck.”
With Herculean effort, Theo swallowed another chuckle. His cock throbbed where she gripped him, and more than anything, he wanted to thrust, to push up into her until he was buried to the hilt. But he kissed her instead, making love to her mouth, as much a distraction for himself as a way to help her loosen up.
It worked. She shifted, and he sank deeper. “That’s it.” He kissed her neck. “Almost there.” He pressed his thighs against hers, forcing her to open more for him. Her shoulders relaxed, body melting around him, warm and wet. Electric heat curled at the base of his spine, and his control slipped.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he growled, unable to stop from bucking his hips once, hard and fast.
“Theo!” she gasped.
“Damn. Sorry.” Theo held still, searching her face. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, just surprised me.” She wiggled her hips.
And now he was the one gasping. “Easy, love.” His fingers dug into the soft skin of her hips, holding her still. He was balls-deep inside her now, as far as he could go, and every shift of her body was an erotic squeeze along his cock.
A smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “I like it when you call me that.”
“What? Love?”
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, breaking free of his grip and wiggling some more.
Theo groaned, rough and guttural. “And I like it when you do that.”
Encouraged, she rotated her hips again, and then again, her movements becoming more fluid as she found her rhythm. He fisted his hands at his sides, letting her work him the way she wanted. When her tempo increased with a sudden intensity that told him she was close, he pressed a hand between their bodies, flicking his thumb over her clit.
She cried out, gasping his name.
“That’s it.” He stroked her clit again. “Come on, love,” he encouraged, kissing her jaw, her neck, her breasts, while her hips jerked back and forth, up and down. Hold on. Let her have this. Give her this. He continued to repeat the mantra to himself as she worked him harder, faster, little cries growing louder until a scream burst from her lips, shudders wracking her body. He held onto her, her forehead resting on his shoulder, face pressed into his neck.
When the storm of her orgasm passed, he twisted, gripping the base of his cock to keep the condom in place as he pulled out. He gently rolled her onto her stomach, bending her over the arm of the sofa. Getting on his knees behind her, he nudged her legs apart and pressed himself against the curve of her lushly rounded bum.
Before entering her, Theo bent over her body, chest to her back, and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to come inside you now, okay?”
“Okay,” she breathed, bucking her hips backward, bringing him closer to exactly where he wanted to be.
It was all the invitation he needed. Bracing his palms on either side of her, he gripped the arm of the couch and thrust. Hard. He pumped into her. Once, twice, three times, his mind going blank as he gave himself over to his need, his hunger. Sensation crashed through him, and in a blink, he was shuddering against her, the rush of his orgasm sounding in his ears.
Before he collapsed, he leaned into her and kissed her flushed cheek. “Thank you,” he groaned, and passed out to the sound of her laughter, too spent to wonder what she found so amusing.
The steady ping of raindrops against glass broke through Bonnie’s languid stupor. She yawned and stretched, uncurling her limbs like a cat. The muscles in her thighs protested, body threatening mutiny if she didn’t stop moving.
Go back to sleep, the soft hush of rain whispered. Relax, a distant roll of thunder suggested. Breathing growing soft and even once more, she was on the verge of nodding back off when cold wet droplets sprinkled her face.
She jerked, blinking madly through the tangle of her hair, wondering if a window had been left open.
“You’re awake,” Theo murmured, hovering over her. Water dripped from the ends of his dark hair, landing on her cheeks.
“And you’re wet,” she grumbled.
“It’s raining outside.”
“You were outside?” she asked, tucking the blanket she was wrapped in tighter around herself. “Why?”
“I had some things to take care of,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “Come on, Sleeping Beauty, time to wake up.”
“It’s Saturday,” Bonnie protested, giggling when his shadow-beard tickled her. “I sleep in on Saturdays.”
“It’s almost noon, love,” Theo said, tugging on her blanket.
“Hey, I’m naked under here!” she yelped.
“Then it’s a good thing I’ve brought you your clothes.” He dropped her duffel bag next to the couch before tugging on the blanket again.
“Theo!” Bonnie snatched it back, clasping it to her chest.
“On second thought”—he licked his lips—“perhaps you don’t need to get dressed quite yet.”
He stared down at her, and her skin grew hot under his intense gaze. She pulled the blanket tighter, tucking it under her arms. He chuckled. The low male sound made her nipples tighten.
His fingers reached for the blanket again.
And this time, she let go.
Sometime later, they lay cocooned together under that same blanket. The rain had stopped, and bright afternoon sunshine spilled across the room.
“Christ, it’s getting late,” Theo groaned, chest rumbling beneath her cheek.
“Mmm,” Bonnie mumbled, perfectly content to stay curled up right here on the couch with him all day.
“We really should get moving.” Theo wriggled out from under her, evacuating their blanket nest. “I have one or two other matters needing my attention, and then we can be off.”
“Off where?” She rolled to her side, enjoying the view as he pulled on his pants.
“Have you forgotten about your surprise?” Theo asked. “Now, there’s a pot of tea on the counter, and a loaf of bread to make toast.” He bent down, grabbing his shirt off the floor and kissing her cheek. “Be ready to leave within the hour.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Bonnie mumbled at his retreating back. Someone can be bossy. She pressed her hand to her cheek where he’d kissed her, recalling last night, when he’d placed a soft kiss on the same spot. She smiled, laughter bubbling up again at the way he’d said “Thank you” in the epitome of British manners, right after pounding into her from behind, brutal and uncontrolled, like a beast let off its leash. Heat pooled in her belly, and she curled into herself, savoring the sweet sharp sting lingering between her legs.
But he was right, it was getting late, even for her Saturday morning sleeping habits, and she definitely wanted to find out what his surprise was. Gathering her things, blanket wrapped around her, Bonnie shuffled off to change.
By the time Theo returned, Bonnie had managed to locate an upstairs bathroom with a shower and was dressed and ready to go. She’d even had a little time to explore the cottage and was more smitten than ever. On the opposite end of the main floor was a large sunroom overlooking the undulating slopes of hillside meadows. Bonnie wanted to spend the evening in there and watch the sunset through the tall wall of windows, maybe write in her journal. She’d brought it along in case her muse decided to pay her a visit. After all, the Lake District was the source of inspiration for such literary greats as Coleridge and William Wordsworth.
They’d been on the road about twenty minutes, the last few clouds from the morning’s storm drifting away, when Theo drove the car through a small village and parked alongside a churchyard.
“A cemetery? Is this my surprise?” Bonnie gave Theo some side-eye. “Wouldn’t that be RIP, not LMP?”
“This is just a bonus stop on the way to your surprise.” Theo chuckled, stepping around the car, and held her door open. “And it’s not just any cemetery. This is St. Oswald’s. One of my country’s finest poets is buried here.”
“I didn’t know you liked poetry.”
“I don’t really,” he confessed.
She snorted.
“But I do appreciate this man’s poems.” Theo led her through the graveyard, stone monuments still dripping with the remains of the morning storm. “Here we are,” he said, coming to a stop.
Bonnie read the inscription. “Oh, Wordsworth. I was just thinking about him this morning.”
“I believe it. His life and work are woven into the history of the Lakelands. What I liked best about him is how he strived to preserve the beauty of this land, to prevent his generation from destroying it for future generations. To provide for the future.”
“I didn’t know that,” Bonnie admitted. “His work has never been a big part of my studies. I remember ‘I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud’ but that’s about it.”
“That’s what most people remember.” Theo grinned, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Can you recall the last line of that poem?”
Bonnie scrunched up her face, thinking. “Something to do with daffodils.”
“Not bad.” Theo turned to face her. Clasping their hands together, he recited:
For oft, when on my couch I lie,
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils.
His rich, crisp voice rolled over the words. Bonnie listened, transfixed. The man should be performing Shakespeare.
Still cradling her hands, he stared down at her palms, tracing a finger across the grooves in her skin. “It’s about the power of memory,” Theo explained, running his forefinger across her palm. “The happiness one experiences through reimagining an experience.” His fingers trailed over the mound at the base of her thumb. “The pleasure it brings.”
Bonnie shivered, her body infusing with heat, pulse throbbing in her wrists and at her throat. She could feel every heavy beat of her heart, the thick rush of blood in her veins—that’s what this man did to her, made her aware of how alive she was. She shook herself.
“Considering our experience this morning,” she observed, voice droll, “that poem is startlingly appropriate.”
“How so?” Theo asked, guiding her across the slick grass toward the wrought-iron gate.
“Oh, you know, lying on a couch, being filled with pleasure…” She nudged him with her elbow.
“I’ll never hear that poem in the same way again.” Theo’s eyes crinkled with laughter. “Are you ready for your surprise?”
In a way, this stop at Wordsworth’s grave had been a surprise. It had revealed a side of Theo she hadn’t expected. Not sure what else to expect, she nodded. “I’m ready. Surprise me.”
They walked through the cemetery and then strolled down to the village square. At the doorway to a tea shop, he paused. “I admit to having an ulterior motive by taking you here.”
“Am I finally going to discover the secret behind the mysterious LMP?”
“Actually, yes.” He beamed and held the door open, following her inside.
“Lemon meringue pie? My big surprise is pie?” Bonnie sat next to Theo in a booth, staring at the dish of fluffiness he’d presented to her.
“This isn’t just any pie. This is the most perfect slice of heaven you will find on Earth.” Theo stuffed a bite into his mouth, the groan emanating from his throat nearly pornographic.
Residual shivers tickled Bonnie’s spine as she recalled the way he’d groaned in much the same way last night when she’d wiggled on top of him, his cock deep inside her. “If you say so.” She poked at the scoop of meringue crowning her slice.
“I can’t help but notice you seem distracted,” Theo said, regarding her over another forkful. “Tell me, if you had to pick one food that carried you off to a state of pure bliss, what would it be?”
That was an easy one. Without hesitating a beat, Bonnie replied, “Gingerbread.”
“Really?” He cocked a brow at her. “Are you serious?”
“Oh yeah, I love it.”
“Then, I may have another surprise for you today,” Theo mused. “What’s that old saying? The key to a man’s heart is through his stomach?” He swallowed another bite. “Do you think the same can be said for a woman?”
“You pose an interesting question.” Bonnie rested her chin in her hand, watching him devour her slice of pie as well, and forced herself to remain casual. Inside, her mind had begun to race. What if he already has my heart?
At first, she was worried she’d been using Theo to fill the hole Gabe left. But it wasn’t that. It wasn’t that at all. Theo wasn’t Gabe—she didn’t want him to be. And she was beginning to think she wasn’t the same Bonnie.
“Shall we test my theory?” Theo asked, tongue darting out to lick a speck of lemon from the tip of his fork.
“Sure,” she breathed, gaze locked on his lips.
He slid off the bench and held his arm out to her. Again, she took it without question, her body fitting against him easily. They crossed the village square, retracing their steps. “Where are we going?”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You’ll see.”
She didn’t have to wait long to find out. On the other side of St. Oswald’s Church, opposite from where he’d parked the car, stood the Grasmere Gingerbread Shop. Before they’d reached the green picket fence surrounding the shop, Bonnie could smell the rich aroma of baking gingerbread. She inhaled a lungful of molasses and spice, and now she was the one groaning in pornographic pleasure. And she hadn’t even tasted it yet.
“An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy gingerbread,” Theo quoted.
She glanced up at him. “I know that’s Shakespeare, but I’m drawing a blank on the play.”
“Love’s Labour’s Lost,” he said, following behind as she made a beeline for the counter where a woman dressed in an old-fashioned apron and kerchief was handing out samples.
“How is it you remember that?” she demanded, a tad embarrassed he’d outdone her.
“The Shakespeare quote about gingerbread?” the woman asked, offering Bonnie a bite-sized square.
Bonnie took it and nodded.
“It’s on a sign out front,” the woman said.
“You don’t say.” She eyed Theo over her shoulder, then popped the gingerbread into her mouth and forgot to be annoyed, forgot to be anything but a mouth and a tongue, tasting and chewing and, “Oh,” she moaned, “oh, God, that’s good.”
“Best in the world.” The woman nodded. “Says so on a sign out front too.” She winked.
“You’re right,” she told Theo, accepting another sample from the woman. “I’m in love. Leave me here. I’m going to marry this gingerbread.”
That evening Theo sorted through the pile of notes he’d taken while walking the property with the groundskeeper. Luckily, the cottage was in good repair. But still, there were several layers to the rental endeavor, from permits to insurance to marketing—and all of it was bloody expensive and time consuming.
As he feared, to have any hope of making the venture profitable, the cottage would have to be let out most of the year. It was selfish, he knew, to balk at giving this place up. Especially since he wasn’t giving it up, exactly. But he wouldn’t be able to pop in for a weekend holiday whenever the mood struck. Not that he’d been doing much of that.
But he also knew opening this place to the public would change it in ways that couldn’t be measured in a ledger. Unlike the Abbey, which had always felt more like a museum than a house, the Lakeland Cottage was small, private, and felt more like a home than anywhere else in the world.
Setting the paperwork aside, Theo glanced over to where Bonnie sat on the other side of the cracked leather settee. The solar was perhaps his favorite spot in the cottage. The furniture was well-worn and comfortable, a collection of pieces relocated here once deemed unfit for other rooms. Appropriate, since anything placed in this room would soon start to fade after long days in the sun. The wall of windows overlooked the hills stretching up toward the Cumbrian sky, a breathtaking sight that never got old or faded, no matter how many years went by.
He eased back, pulling her legs onto his lap and rubbing his thumbs against her soles, gently massaging her feet. She glanced up at him, her pen pausing on the page. A smile passed between them, full of quiet contentment. Then she dropped her chin and resumed her scribbling. Leaving her to her thoughts, Theo enjoyed the simple pleasure of her nearness and the beauty of a summer twilight.
When the sky was full dark, he shifted his attention to her again. “How’s the writing going?”
“Good.” She arched her back, twisting her neck from side to side. “This place is working wonders for my muse.”
“Your muse, hmm?”
“Yeah, she likes it here.” Bonnie set her book and pen aside.
“What about you?” he asked. “Do you like it here?”
“I love it here.” Her feet were still resting on his lap, and she stretched, pointing and flexing her toes.
Theo’s heart swelled. It did something to him, to know she felt the same way about this place as he did. He wrapped his fingers around one of her ankles. “I’m glad you came up here with me.” He moved his hand up, brushing the tender skin of her calf.
“I’m glad you asked.” She smiled at him, closing her eyes as he massaged the soft curve of muscle. “Will it be hard for you?” she wondered, eyes still closed. “Having to rent the cottage out?”
“Yes,” he admitted, again surprised by his honesty. “But I can’t let my personal feelings get in the way of a sound business decision. It’s not just about me. The Emberton holdings are sort of like a corporation. The Lindseys have worked here at the cottage since before I was born, it’s all they know. And at the Abbey? Most of the town works for our family in some capacity. If we lose the Abbey, they’d likely lose their livelihoods.”
“That’s a big responsibility.” Bonnie opened her eyes and watched him, brow furrowed in empathy.
“Enough about my duke stuff.” Theo shifted, reaching for her other leg. “Tell me about your writing. What are you working on?” he asked, nodding toward her journal.
“I’m not sure yet,” she said. “I have some story ideas, and I’m just kind of jotting them all down, seeing where they go.”
“You enjoy writing, then?”
“Mostly. Sometimes it’s incredibly frustrating. But I always come back to it.” Her voice dropped, the tone almost shy as she continued, “It’s been so long since I’ve spent any real time writing I’m still getting my bearings, figuring out what the story needs.”
“How do you do that?” he wondered.
“Play around with the characters, throw different things at them until I find what works.” She shifted her free leg, and her foot grazed his groin.
He stiffened—everywhere. “Why did you stop writing for so long?”
“Life.” She went back to doodling on her paper. “I was too focused on all the things I thought I wanted, like a husband and a teaching career.” The corner of her mouth turned up. “I was wrong about the husband … and lately, I’ve been wondering if I was wrong about the career too.”
“You don’t enjoy teaching?” Theo asked, running his fingers up and down her leg. She’d mentioned her breakup but didn’t seem as bitter about it as before. If anything, she was more … resigned.
“Not as much as I thought I would.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s not terrible, and the classes I’ve taught this summer have been really cool, but overall … yeah. No.” Bonnie laughed and looked up at him. “Did that make any sense at all?”
Theo nodded. “Sure,” he said, stroking the back of her knee. “You need to figure out what you need.”
“I do, huh?” she asked, blue eyes flashing. “I think I know what I need right now,” she purred, sliding the foot he wasn’t holding back and forth. He bit his lip, his cock getting harder with each brush of her leg.
“I can’t wait to hear more.” His fingers crept up her thigh. “Why don’t we go upstairs, and you can tell me.”
“I thought you couldn’t wait,” she teased.
“Well, let’s see how fast you can get ready for bed,” he teased back.
“Like a race?” she asked.
“If you want it to be.”
“Okay.” She sat up, sliding her feet to the floor. “On your mark, get set, go!” She was off like a shot, racing out of the room before the last word was out of her mouth.
Theo stood, thundering up the stairs behind her. He didn’t mind if she beat him. The way he saw it, anything that got her in bed faster was a win.