Page 88 of A Night of Forever
With that Arend stepped forward and placed a swift kiss on her lips.
Mrs. Clarke giggled. “Go on with you.” Then she turned to Isobel. “The townsfolk try to keep the tunnels a secret from outsiders, but most of the smugglers born and bred in Deal know of them.”
“Thank you,” Isobel said.
“It was nothing, my lady.” Mrs. Clarke curtsied again and smiled. “I’m pleased to help such a lovely couple.”
Mrs. Clarke thought them husband and wife. Isobel felt the heat radiating from her cheeks. She hated the deception.
Once Mrs. Clarke had left the room, Isobel asked the question she couldn’t ask in front of her. “Do you think Victoria knows we are lovers?”
Arend appeared surprised. “You said she told you so when she kidnapped you.”
Of course. “So she would assume we share a bed?”
He nodded. “Your point is?”
“I’m thinking about what they will do when they sneak through these tunnels and into the house.”
“Ifthey sneak in.” He frowned. “Surely they must be aware that we know about the tunnels.”
She smiled. “But wedidn’tknow.”
She rolled onto her back as Arend sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. It was difficult to concentrate with him posed in such a way. All she could think about was straddling him and…
She looked away from the glorious sight. “I think they have been watching us to see if we have been using the tunnels. That’s why Dufort walked past my window. He wanted to see how I’d leave the house. I’ll wager they have also put feathers on the tunnel door.”
Arend crooked his finger at her, and she gave in to the need to crawl up the bed and straddle him. “I love that brain of yours,” he whispered against her ear.
For one moment her world halted. She wished he could simply love all of her, not just her brain.
Be brave.
She slid her hands inside his jacket and began to unhook his waistcoat. “What else do you love about me?”
A wary look entered his eyes, but when her hand fitted over his growing erection, a wicked smile settled on his lips.
“I do love the way your mind works,” he said. “And if you let me slowly undress you, I shall demonstrate what else I love about you.”
She kept her voice serious. “Perhaps it’s my fingers you love.”
“It’s more than your fingers, I can assure you.” Now that Isobel had undone the hooks, Arend sat up and shed his coat and waistcoat. She also helped him draw the fine linen of his shirt over his head.
She sat still, stunned as usual by the beauty of his chest, so different from her own. Olive skin covered sculptured muscles, all tantalizingly hidden by a smattering of black hair.
She couldn’t help her response. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his skin above his heart. When she straightened, the depth of heat in his eyes told her what he could not say aloud.
He reached for her then.
She loved how Arend’s hands thrust deep into her hair, scattering pins across the bed as he tugged her tresses free.
He wound the long strands around his hand and pulled gently until her head eased back. Then he ran his tongue up her neck and took her lips in a drugging kiss.
Usually she loved how he seized control. Tonight, however, it was her turn.
She groped for one of his nipples and pinched it gently.
His grip on her hair loosened, and Arend hummed into her mouth. “Someone wants to play.”
