Mayhew had undressed a woman before, but it had never been like this, unhurried, a sweet and slow disrobing, minutes slipping by in quiet murmurs and gentle touches, in the whisper of fabric sliding over skin, in the feather-light brush of his fingertips across the nape of Willie’s neck, in reverent kisses placed on her bare shoulders.
When they were both standing naked Mayhew couldn’t help but gaze at Willie, because she was so damned beautiful, all creamy skin and slender curves, sweet rosy lips and sweet rosy nipples.
Willie gazed back, taking him in from head to toe, a blatant perusal that made his balls tighten and heat flush beneath his skin. Then she tilted her head and said, “You look very fine, Lieutenant Mayhew.”
Mayhew laughed—somewhat breathlessly, and said—somewhat hoarsely, “You look a great deal more than fine, Mrs. Mayhew.”
She laughed, too, and Mayhew realized in that moment that his hands were trembling slightly. He wasn’t sure whether the tremble came from his eagerness to make love to Willie or his fear of hurting her. He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “It might hurt a little bit.”
“I know,” Willie said. “Your sister told me about it.”
Mayhew blinked at her. “My sister did?”
Willie nodded. “She said it would probably hurt the first time, maybe even the first few times, but after that it would become a lot more enjoyable.”
Mayhew stared at her, bemused. His sister had talked to Willie about sex?
His expression appeared to amuse Willie, because she laughed, and then she climbed up on the three-poster bed, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her derrière as she did so. “Come to bed, Lieutenant Mayhew.”
Mayhew did.
He’d never felt shy when making love to a woman before, but he found himself a little shy tonight. Willie was shy, too, of course—shy and blushing, but she was also eager and trusting. She laughed at him while he worshiped every one of her fingertips with kisses, and she giggled when he nipped and teased his way down her throat, and she gasped and squirmed as he kissed his way up her inner thighs.
He did his best not to hurt her, entering her more slowly than he’d ever entered a woman before, more carefully. He watched her face intently while he sank in those final inches and he thought that he’d mostly succeeded. Willie looked flushed and wide-eyed and a little disconcerted, but not pained.
“How does it feel?” he asked.
Her lips pursed thoughtfully. “Odd.”
It didn’t feel odd to Mayhew; it felt unbelievably good.
Willie shifted her hips slightly, making the breath catch in his throat. She heard it, and grinned up at him. “How does it feel to you?”
“Good,” Mayhew said, and the word was almost a groan. He was trembling—the muscles in his belly, in his thighs, in his arms as he braced himself above her. Trembling with the need to move and the equally strong need to stay still until he was certain he wasn’t hurting her.
He bent his head and kissed Willie. Their lips clung together for a long moment, and then he began to move—slow slide, slow glide—coaxing a rhythm between them.
Willie enjoyed it. He could tell from the way she gasped and the tiny, guttural moans she uttered, and also from the way that she moved, clutching his arms, arching into him—and he could tell from the way she laughed at the moment of her climax. Mayhew laughed when she laughed and climaxed when she climaxed, because it was impossible not to do either, and then he held her tightly while they both floated down from that soaring high.
He would have liked to have stayed inside her all night, but he couldn’t, so he carefully withdrew and cleaned her with a handkerchief, and then he blew out the candles and crawled into bed and tucked Willie into the curve of his body, her back pressing snugly to his chest, his arm securely around her waist.
They lay curled together in the cozy warmth of the three-poster bed. Willie stroked the back of his hand. “I know your sister said it would get better, but I honestly can’t imagine it.”
Mayhew couldn’t imagine it either.
When he woke, it was dawn and his wife was still in his arms. He pressed his face into her hair and inhaled her scent—orange blossom—and wondered how he’d been so damned lucky as to meet Sweet Willie Culpepper, let alone marry her.
Mayhew tightened his arm around her, but only a little bit; he didn’t want to wake her. But it appeared that she was already awake, for her fingers intertwined with his. “Careful,” she whispered. “Don’t disturb the kitten.”
“Kitten?” He lifted his head and peered over her, and there on the pillow was a tortoiseshell kitten, curled up asleep. He found that he wasn’t surprised. It felt almost like fate. “How long has it been there?”
“I don’t know. It was there when I woke.”
Mayhew was fairly certain it was the same kitten that had sat on Willie’s lap in the coffee room. “It must like you.”
Their voices woke the kitten. It blinked its eyes opened and yawned, pink-tongued and sharp-toothed. It looked adorable. Almost as adorable as Willie.
Willie slipped her hand free from his clasp and reached out and stroked the kitten. “It was born a marmalade tabby, I think, but someone took it by the paw and dipped it in a cauldron of magic and stardust, and now it looks like the night sky.”
Mayhew huffed a laugh. “Very poetic.” And accurate, too; the kitten’s coat did look like a night sky speckled with stars. Except for that one golden paw.
Willie carefully rubbed between the kitten’s ears. Mayhew heard the tiny rumble of its purr. “My brigade major had a kitten that looked a bit like that,” he told her. “He found it at Badajoz, carried it around with him for months.”
“He did?” Willie said, and he heard her surprise.
“He did. His name’s Reynolds. Major Reynolds.” Mayhew smothered a yawn. “Actually, it was Reynolds who rescued Scout and Mr. Bellyrub.” Or Princess Plum Blossom and Prince Purr-a-lot, as they’d been renamed by the twins.
“Is he on furlough, too?”
“Sold out after Waterloo. Henry Wright’s our brigade major now. He’s first rate. You’ll like him.”
“I’m sure I will,” Willie said, and then, “Colonel Barraclough didn’t mind one of his officers keeping a kitten while on campaign?”
“Not at all. He was rather fond of it. Was forever bringing scraps for it to eat.”
“Was he now?” Willie said, her tone thoughtful.
Mayhew yawned again. “I think Barraclough likes cats.”
Willie was silent for a moment, and then she said, “Good,” and tickled the kitten under its chin with a fingertip.
Mayhew watched her fingertip and heard that tiny purr and made a belated realization. “We’re taking the kitten with us, aren’t we?”
“Yes,” Willie said. “It’s our wedding gift from the Fates.”
Mayhew didn’t laugh at that statement because he had a feeling she might be right. “What shall we name it?”
“Stardust,” Willie said, and tickled the kitten under its chin again.
Mayhew pressed his face into his wife’s hair and inhaled her orange blossom scent, and then he laughed softly, his breath stirring her messy ringlets. “I love you,” he told her.
Willie stopped stroking the kitten. Her fingers intertwined with his again. “I love you, too.”
Mayhew inhaled another orange-blossom-scented breath and thought that he couldn’t possibly be any happier than he was at that moment, lying in a three-poster bed, holding his wife, while a kitten purred on the pillow alongside them.
Then he remembered that this was the first of many such mornings together, and he discovered that it was possible to be even happier. He gathered Willie closer, tucking her warmth and her soft, slender curves in tightly to his body. “This is going to be so good,” he whispered in her ear. “Us, together, forever.”
“It most certainly is!” Willie said.
And it was.
Thank you for reading Love and Other Surprises. I hope you enjoyed the two stories!
If you’re in the mood for more novels featuring men who fought at Waterloo, you might enjoy The Earl’s Dilemma, a novel about a former cavalry officer who needs to marry in a hurry and the spinster who’s determined to find him the perfect bride.
“Utterly delightful friends-to-lovers story. This is by far the funniest that I've read, and the most adorable too.” ~Buried Under Romance
Read The Earl’s Dilemma.
Alternatively, you might like The Spinster’s Secret, a novel about a secret authoress, a battle-scarred soldier, and some of the worst food in England.
“Straight up touched my heart. It's been a while since I laughed, cried, despaired, and felt one with a character to this extent.” ~Punya Reviews
If you’ve had your fill of soldiers, then I invite you to read My Lady Thief, a novel that features an heiress with a dangerous pastime and a bachelor who thinks very highly of himself.
“Characters with passion, depth, intelligence, and a great sense of humor.” ~Buried Under Romance
Read My Lady Thief.