Page 68 of Wickedly Yours
“I feel certain something else made you ill.” A hand reached out and loosened the tie holding her robe together. The garment fell apart exposing a sheer white chemise trimmed in red ribbon. After the disastrous dinner and her abrupt departure from the Marsh home, she wished to placate him.
Hunger flared in his face at the sight of the chemise.
“I could not stay a moment longer, Rowan.” Lifting her chin, she dared him to chastise her. “I tried.”
His eyes were focused somewhere below her chin. “Jesus. Where did you get this one? I can see your nipples.” A large hand cupped her breast. “I do not blame you, Bella.” Lips brushed hers. “Petra stopped me in the foyer and told me what happened. I’m actually amazed at your self-control. My mother deserved far worse from you.”
“But you deserve better. I’m ill-mannered and waspish in addition to being contrary. I am also quick to anger.” Arabella gasped as his fingers caressed her through the sheer fabric.
Rowan’s hand dropped from her breast to gently cup her cheek. His breath wafted across her skin. “I married you because I wanted you. I still do.” He whispered against her lips. “Every minute of every hour. Your scathing tongue does nothing to dissuade me unless you aren’t using it properly.” An impish grin tilted his lips as he placed a tender kiss to her mouth. He pressed his forehead to hers.
A tear slid down Arabella’s cheek.I’ve becomeamilksop. Rowan has turned me into a sniveling woman.
Still she held his words tight to her heart deciding she didn’t care if she became a watering pot. Her fingers slid around his waist to pull him closer to her. With a deep sigh she relaxed against the hard planes of his chest.
They didn’t speak for the longest time. Rowan’s fingers traced tiny circles between her shoulder blades and every so often he would press his lips to her hair. She could hear the fire Edith stoked earlier crackling and the beat of Rowan’s heart beneath her cheek. Arabella had never felt so safe. Secure.
Finally, a rumble came from his chest and he picked her up. “Time for bed, Lady Malden.” He walked towards the door separating their rooms. “My beautiful Bella,” he whispered in her ear before laying her atop the coverlet.
Rowan lay next to her, his hands exploring every line and curve of her body, stripping the chemise from her body in slow intervals. He worshipped her with his mouth and hands, wringing such intense pleasure from her, Arabella thought she would die from his ministrations. When finally she lay boneless and sated, only then did he finally join his body with hers to seek his own release.
Arabella moaned his name, as she wrapped her body around his. Here was her safe harbor. The place she would always long to be. A member of the very family she’d sworn to hate and punish had now become the very center of her existence.
I will tell him everything. Corbett. The Great Lie. Barker.
The words that terrified her finally spilled from her lips as he thrust inside her.
“I love you.”
38
“My lady, come see what has arrived for you.”
Arabella looked up from the letter she was writing. Aunt Maisy had left nearly a fortnight ago, returning to the moors with Brendan at his insistence. Putting the letter aside, she looked at her maid in amusement.
Edith was leaping from foot to foot in excitement. “Packages have arrived for you, my lady. From Madame Moliere’s. The famous modiste.” The maid’s face shone with rapture.
“I’m well aware of who Madame Moliere is.” The modiste had created Arabella’s wedding trousseau under the direction of Aunt Maisy. “I’m sure she’s sent the riding habit I ordered some time ago. There’s no need to become so ridiculously giddy.”
“Begging your pardon, my lady, but I don’t think it’s your riding habit. There’s too many packages and red ribbon.”
Arabella put the pen into the inkwell and stretched her neck before turning. She hadn’t much sleep last night as Rowan had been insatiable. An image of Rowan the previous evening, sitting naked in a chair before the fire, sipping at his scotch while he watched her bathe slipped into her mind and heat flew up Arabella’s cheeks. That she could still blush at what transpired after her bath was rather surprising.
When sleep finally did come last night, it was not peaceful. Barker’s repulsive form invaded her dreams of late, probably owing to her resolution to confess everything to Rowan. It had been several weeks since the evening they’d dined at the home of his parents, but still, Arabella couldn’t bring herself to tell him. The time had not seemed right and her bubble of happiness felt too fragile.
She must stop delaying the inevitable.
While Barker appeared in her dreams, he did not do so while she was awake. The more time that went by without seeing him, the more assurance Arabella felt he was gone from her life forever.
“My lady?” Edith was still hopping about like a deranged rabbit. “Shall I have them bring the boxes in?”
At the nod from Arabella, Edith flew from the room, only to return with two burly footmen each carrying a stack of boxes wrapped in red ribbon. When the footmen had shut the door, she turned to Edith.
I haven’t ordered anything else.” Mystified at the sheer amount of boxes now littering her private parlor, Arabella shook her head. “There must be a mistake.”
“I don’t think so, my lady.” The maid took the largest box and placed it on Arabella’s lap. It was wound with bright red satin ribbon and smelled of bergamot, her favorite scent. “This fell from the ribbon.” Her maid held out a small embossed card.
Opening the envelope, Arabella immediately recognized Rowan’s bold scrawl.
