Page 48 of Untaming Lady Violet
Violet could not say with certainty how she made it back to her room.
The aftermath of those moments with Tristan was a bit hazy. Like a lovely dream with sharp edges and bright flashes of color. Certain moments and details etched into her mind. The rasp of his cheeks against the inside of her tender thighs. The quick flicker of his tongue against her sex and the bluntness of his finger filling her until she thought she might overflow.
There was the moment she plunged over a jagged cliff, calling his name, her hands clenched in his hair so he would not move away from her. A disturbingly primal thrill illuminated her soul when he gripped her hip tighter in response. His fingers bit almost cruelly into her flesh as though he wanted to leave marks of possession.
She wanted those marks. Wanted him. Desperately and without reason.
After that remarkable experience, she had drifted in a cloud of satisfaction. Tristan rose from the floor, murmured unintelligible words into her hair, then kissed her mouth softly. She could taste herself on his lips, salty and sweet, but it did not bother her like it should have. She let him soothe and pet her, and stood still while he rearranged her clothing.
There was no protest formed when he left her slumped against the wall and returned with a silky black robe from his wardrobe. Wrapping it around her, he muttered beneath his breath something about being damned if he’d allow her to go back through the corridors in the same half-dressed state in which she’d come to him.
Tristan did not speak at all as he returned her to her bedchamber. He seemed content in allowing the silence to hang between them.
Violet wasn’t sure she could conduct an intelligent conversation anyway.
With a hand to her elbow, Tristan stopped her before they reached her doorway.
“I’ll leave you here, Violet. It wouldn’t do for anyone to see me outside your room at this time of night. Not when we are both so scandalously underdressed.” He smiled, his teeth flashing white in the shadowy alcove he’d pulled her into. With gentle hands, he pulled his robe from her body. “And while my heart pounds seeing you in this, there would be no rational explanation for my robe being in your room.”
Violet nodded. Of course, everything Tristan said made perfect sense. Only, there was a tiny portion of her soul yearning that he would not leave her. That he would follow her into her room. Lock the door. Kiss and caress her again until she could not form words and soared again.
Tristan’s head cocked at her continued silence. “Are you well, Violet?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper that sent tingles chasing each other down Violet’s spine. “I did not hurt you, did I? I wasn’t too rough?”
His eyes, so darkly expressive and fathomless, watched her reaction.
Violet hugged herself, suddenly cold without the voluminous warmth of his robe. “No, Tristan. You did not hurt me. I’m fine, really.”
There was a flash of relief in his gaze. “Good. Then I’ll say goodnight.” Very gently, he kissed her, then gave her a tiny nudge to encourage her feet to begin moving. “Meet me tomorrow in the rose garden for your beast’s portrait, and we shall put my plan into action. Hurry to your room now.”
She did as he ordered. Before the door closed completely, shutting out the light from the hallway sconces, Violet saw a slight movement.
It was down the corridor and in the opposite direction of the alcove where Tristan had already melted into the shadows. She peered into the darkness to determine if her eyes were playing tricks but could see nothing worthy of alarm.
Violet shut the door, wishing it were “tomorrow”, already.
* * *
The next day,Violet made her way to Lady Darby’s garden. She carried Carrot in her arms and laughed softly at the mewing sounds he made upon seeing a flock of brown sparrows foraging on the pathway.
Tristan was not waiting by the massive circular fountain, but an easel and blank canvas were already set up.
She did not expect him to be there. She’d come early for the purpose of allowing Carrot to become familiar with his surroundings.
Perching herself on the fountain’s wide basin wall, Violet placed the cat on the ground.
Carrot immediately darted toward the birds, coming up short in his quest. The leash attached to the tiny collar restricted his stalking range. Giving a low yowl, he crouched by Violet’s feet, tail twitching in frustration at being unable to reach the tiny birds.
Violet found it surprising that the garden was not populated. Afternoons usually meant a steady stream of visitors parading along the gravel paths. They admired the roses blooming in all shades and sizes, as well as the magnificent stone fountain in the garden’s center. The musical sound of water splashing over the four tiers was soothing, the late afternoon light sparkling through the waterdrops enthralling. It was a beautiful spot to spend the afternoon.
“This is where you’ve run off to today. I’ve been looking for you, my dear.”
William emerged from one of the five pathways designed like wheel spokes to end at the fountain. Coldly handsome as usual, his golden hair gleamed in the sun and his clothes were the epitome of fashion.
Adjusting the cuff of his jacket, he halted before her, an eyebrow shooting skyward. “What is that?”
Violet tightened her grip on Carrot’s leash, noting the kitten moved closer until he was pressed against her skirts. William’s appearance was suspicious. He would not have known she was in the gardens unless he’d been apprised of her whereabouts.
“It’s the kitten I told you of. The one I rescued.”
