Page 9 of A Love to Remember
“Don’t you agree?” Rose asked.
Philip shoved the memories aside and tossed off his brandy. He reached down and lifted her into his lap. “Yes, I do. But we have to find the money to pay for the pensions, and there just isn’t enough money to do everything we need.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and her soft breasts pressed into his chest. “You mean the government would rather fund more wars than look after the heroes who won the last one.”
She was very clever, his Rose.
His.
He thought of her as his. Already his body cried out to give her pleasure and to take his own. It hurt him to know he’d then have to creep away before dawn as if what they shared was something to be ashamed of.
He bent his head and kissed her. “Someone had to stop Napoleon. We could all be speaking French by now.”
She snuggled into his arms.
He held her tight. If Napoleon had won, Robert’s sacrifice would have been in vain. He would never have been able to live with that.
When he shivered, she tipped back her head to look him in the face. “Are you cold?”
“No.” In the light of the dying fire he stood, gathered her into his arms, and headed toward the door. “Time for bed.”
“You’re staying?”
“Of course.” He smiled. “I’m tired but not that tired.”
Her saucy smile made him harden. Everything about her made his body hum and desire grow until the thought of her consumed him. He’d never want a woman as much as he wanted Rose.
Her lady’s maid knew when to be discreet. Philip could manage very nicely on his own. Undressing Rose, revealing the perfect creamy skin and curvaceous body, was his favorite thing in the world—except of course, for being buried deep inside her.
He kicked the door shut behind him, crossed the room, tossed her onto the bed, and followed her down, trapping her beneath him.
“You can hardly undress me if you keep me pinned to the bed,” she teased.
He settled on top of her. “I’m enjoying the softness.”
“I’d rather enjoy something hard.” Her hands rose, reaching for his cravat.
With a chuckle he caught them, one in each of his, and pressed them back to the coverlet, anchoring them on either side of her head. “You know how much I love undressing you. It’s been too long since I have seen this magnificent body. I beg you to indulge me.”
Her lips curved. “I’d indulge you in anything you want to do to me. I know you’d only ever give me pleasure.”
He met her wicked gaze with one of his own. “Unfair. Now I want to rip your clothes off.”
She pressed quick, breathless kisses to his face. “I’m not stopping you.”
He couldn’t help it. His mouth crushed hers and his need began to race. She was like a drug in his veins. The more he tasted her the more he wanted her. If he was not careful he’d do something foolish—like promise her something he could not give.
His body was primed and ready but he needed to slow things down. He wanted to pleasure her all night. In his current state—and after two months of abstinence—he was a pistol ready to fire.
Dragging a portion of his wits free of her seductive powers took effort. The sensual silk of her mouth, the wicked touch of her tongue, the knowledge of what that hot, wet mouth could do to him—
He drew back, warning her with upraised finger to stay still as he unhooked the fastenings on the front of her gown. “Do all your gowns hook in the front? Very convenient.”
“Only the ones I wear for you,” she whispered, sending a shiver over his earlobe while her fingers fumbled with his cravat.
He made a strangled sound and tried to ignore her explorations. He could have demanded she stop, but her need for him excited him even more.
Finally, he was peeling off her gown, his hot palms skimming the curves of her shoulders, pushing the silk over and down her arms. He had done this hundreds of times before, but with Rose, each time felt like the first.
