Page 77 of A Scandalous Bargain
He went faster, and she fell apart again, whimpering with each thrust that brought an even greater pleasure. He shouted and let out a soft curse as he pulled himself from her and spilled his seed on her thigh.
“My God, Beatrix. I’m sorry.”
She panted, trying to regain her breath. “Why would you be? That was, as you said, perfect.”
He rolled to the side and swore again. “I almost forgot to pull myself from you. Jesus.” He put his arm over his eyes, his chest heaving.
Beatrix slipped from the bed and found a cloth to clean herself. Dropping it into an empty basin, she took another cloth to him and tidied him too.
He lowered his arm and peered at her, barely lifting his head from the bed. “What are you doing?”
“Tending to you.” She smiled as she finished. “All clean now.” Then she went and threw the soiled linen atop the other one.
Returning to the bed, she curled next to him, laying her hand on his chest. “Now. Will you tell me what happened? The night we met, I mean. I think you must.”
He glanced at her, the anguish they’d banished for a short time having returned.
“Not because I want you to, but because it will help.” She rose upon her elbow and looked down at him, at the torment lining his handsome face. “You have such a burden. Will you share it with me?”
“I don’t know if I can.” His gaze met hers. “I don’t know if I can bear for you to hate me.”
She touched his jaw, gently stroking his warm flesh. “I don’t think I ever could.”
Something in him released—she felt it in the relaxation of his muscles, saw it in the sudden calm illuminating his gaze. “I’ll tell you everything.”
* * *
Asoul-stirring serenity seeped into Thomas as he gazed up at Beatrix’s beautiful face. Her pale hair was a tousled mess, a halo of raucous disarray surrounding her angelic features. Tonight had been a revelation.
He twisted his finger in a lock of her hair. “I haven’t taken many women to bed, and it’s been years. For me, that was astonishing. I hope it was the same for you.”
She laughed softly. “You didn’t have to tell me about your experience.”
“Why not? You told me about yours.”
Sobering, she looked away from him. “That’s different.”
He supposed it was, but he didn’t want her to feel bad about a choice she thought she’d had to make. Curling his hand around her nape, he tugged at her to look at him again. “Don’t ever feel embarrassed or ashamed with me. I’m grateful for your openness, your vulnerability.”
Her eyes softened, the green in them a warm, vivid hue. “And I am grateful for yours—and for your support. I haven’t let many people get this close to me. To know me this well, I mean.”
“I understand.” He pulled her head down and lifted his to kiss her. Their lips met and briefly molded together.
Thomas sat up and pulled the coverlet back. She moved with him, and they both slid between the bedclothes. He sat against the headboard and put his arm around her as she nestled into his side.
“I probably shouldn’t have come here tonight, but I needed to see you.” He ran his hand through his hair, scrubbing his scalp. “I didn’t think it through. What if Selina and Harry had been here? It’s their bloody wedding night.”
Beatrix put her hand on his chest. “They weren’t. All is well. Or it will be. You seem like you’re feeling better than when you arrived.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “How can I not?” Truthfully, he felt better than he had in his entire life. He wanted to ignore the anguish pushing at the back of his mind—Bow Street, Thea, all of it.
“I’m glad.” She kissed the base of his throat.
He realized if he didn’t start talking, he might never get to it. His body was already rousing, eager to explore Beatrix once more.
“I lied to you—and to Bow Street—about what happened the night Thea died. You saw that she followed me onto the balcony and that she fell, but I don’t think you saw what really happened. More importantly, you don’t know what happened inside.”
“No, I didn’t. I could tell you were arguing—I could hear raised voices. It wasn’t the first time I heard you. Rather, her. I could always hear her voice, yours less so.”
