Page 22 of The Duke's Price
And suffer after, both for her sin—for she believed Perry when he said he would never force her, which meant her fall was her own choice—and for the loss of the flawed but noble man with whom she was in love.
You will have saved Bella. It will be worth it.
She stepped into Perry’s waiting arms, determined to hold on to any last pieces of her heart that were not already his, and already knowing she would fail.
“The day has been long enough,” he said an uncountable time later, surfacing from a long kiss. “Let us make camp. We can tether the horses and sleep in the carriage.”
Ruth nodded, knowing exactly what her agreement meant. Today, perhaps before nightfall, Perry would complete the seduction he had begun. She dreaded it and could hardly wait.
Had she been asked,Ruth would have said that a duke, especially one with Perry’s reputation, would be at a loss faced with setting up a safe and comfortable camp. She would have been wrong. Wherever he had learned the skills, as she collected wood and kindling for the fire he proposed to build, he took the horses to the nearby stream to drink, tethered them where they could graze, and produced a spade from a tool rack under the carriage to dig a fire pit.
“Would you make a bed for us upwind of the fire, Ruth darling?” he asked.
“A bed? But are we not going to sleep in the carriage?”
Perry’s eyes twinkled as he gave her a wicked grin. “We’llsleepin the carriage,” he explained. “This bed is not for sleeping. Sweep the ground of any rocks or sticks, then lay a couple of quilts for comfort underneath, and put a sheet over them. The bedding is inside the backward facing seat.”
“And the broom?” Ruth did her best to sound as matter-of-fact as Perry. It would be soon, then.
“I’ll make you a broom,” Perry offered. He pulled out a knife and began cutting branches from one of the bushes that surrounded the clearing. By the time Ruth had collected the bedding, he was binding branches to a stick he’d selected from Ruth’s firewood. “There. Not particularly robust, but it should hold together for long enough to sweep the ground.”
The man is astonishingly competent. Ruth blushed at the thought of the competence for which he was most famous, and perhaps he guessed at her thoughts, for he winked at her as he bent over the fire pit, carefully placing wood to build the fire.
“We won’t light this before the sun sets,” he commented. “I don’t want smoke to give us away, and it is warm enough that we only need it for cooking. And for a cup of tea, if you want one, dearest. Meanwhile, our wash will need to be cold. I propose that we wash now, and then go and test out the bed you havemade. Do you want the stream first, darling? Or we could wash together, if you prefer.”
“First,” Ruth said, through a suddenly dry throat. She did not drag out her wash. The cold water did not make her inclined to linger. Besides, now that the time was on her, she wanted it done and over.
Perry did not keep her waiting long. He returned quickly from his wash, with a towel wrapped around his waist, a pair of shoes on his feet to protect him from stones and prickles, and nothing else on.
Ruth was sitting on the make-shift mattress, still fully dressed. He came and sat beside her to take his shoes off. He then started to unwrap his towel. Ruth stiffened in shock.
“Too soon?” Perry asked. He pulled back the top sheet and slipped under it, pulling the sheet up to his waist before tossing the towel to hang from a nearby branch. “If I may just comment, Ruth darling, you are somewhat overdressed for the occasion. Do you need help with your laces?”
An advantage of men’s clothing was that nothing fastened at the back. Ruth shook her head and took off her coat. Her fingers fumbled with the laces on her trousers, but she reminded herself that Perry would offer to help again, and she would far rather do it herself. She had not replaced her socks and shoes after her wash, so once the trousers were off, all that remained was the voluminous shirt that hid her down to the knees.
Apart from her chemise and drawers, and she was not taking those off while Perry watched. Though perhaps later. Since this was going to happen anyway, she was putting the demure daughter of the vicar into a box for the moment. Instead, she was going to experience everything Perry could show her. It was going to happen, so why should she not enjoy it?
He obligingly shifted to the far side of the mattress, and flipped the top sheet ready for her to slide under. She did so,pulled the sheet as high as she could, and tugged the shirt off over her head.
Lying down, with the sheet up around her neck, she waited to see what happened next.
“What are you still wearing,” Perry whispered, sounding interested rather than irritated.
“My chemise and drawers,” she muttered.
His response was a noncommittal noise. “Would you be kind enough to kiss me, Ruth?” he asked next.
She could do that. She now knew how, and kissing was very pleasant. Keeping the sheet over her shoulders, she rolled to face Perry, but he remained flat on his back, his face turned to the sky, smiling as he watched her from the corner of his nearest eye.
With a sigh, she raised herself until she could lower her mouth onto his. After that, she quickly lost the ability to catalogue what was happening. Perry didn’t take over the kiss so much as lead her to greater and ever greater intimacies. Deeper kisses. Caresses. Kisses in places that would have made her blush if she had paused to think about them.
He filled her senses. The sight of him—so male, so fit, so beautifully sculpted. His smell—something spicy and musky, with an extra something that said ‘Perry’. His touch, with mouth and fingers—gentle and then firm, always pleasurable, each stroke and glide ensorcelling her still further. His taste on her tongue, as he encouraged her to explore his body with her kisses—a slight remnant of his lunchtime coffee, the tooth powder he must have just used, the slight salty flavour of his perspiration. And his sound—the murmurs of instruction and encouragement, the soft sighs and groans that were her reward when she found the touches that affected him the way he was affecting her.
At some point, he dispensed with her chemise. She didn’t miss it. The drawers went the same way, though she couldnot remember how or when. All of the sensations were mixing together, until she could not tell whether she was hearing, tasting, seeing, smelling, or feeling. She was just one creature of sensation, every nerve in her body straining for something.
“That’s it, dear heart,” Perry murmured, his voice just one more sensation in the orchestral symphony he was playing on her body. “That’s it. Let go. Let it happen.”
Let go of what? Let what happen? But even as the thought struggled to make its way through the sensuous haze, she found out. All the sensations reached a crescendo, a peak, a space of light and glory.
