Best of Both Rogues Page 17

  She accepted his assistance from the carriage and linked arms with him before they climbed the steps leading to the front door.

  The massive door swung open before they reached it, and a broad-shouldered man dressed in livery greeted them.

  “Good afternoon, Dobbins. Have Mrs. Fitzhugh assemble the staff for an introduction to Mrs. Hillary.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Eve couldn’t help smiling at hearing her new address.

  She and Ben passed through a narrow entry hall that opened onto a large circular foyer with several arched doorways leading to different parts of the house. “What would you like to see first?”

  “Let’s start there.” She randomly pointed toward a doorway on the right.

  “As you wish.” Ben provided a brief tour of the rooms on the ground level—two drawing rooms, his study, the library, and a dining room—before returning to the foyer where a staff of eight had gathered. Ben rested his hand at the small of her back. “Please allow me to introduce my wife, Eve Hillary. I trust you will all make her feel welcome and answer any questions she might have as she assumes management of the household.”

  The servants offered tentative smiles and the proper greetings.

  “Thank you,” Eve said. “I can see what a splendid job you’ve done maintaining an efficient and lovely home. I do not anticipate many disruptions to your routines, so please, carry on as you have already been doing.”

  The servants dispersed with their heads held high, which was exactly as it should be. She didn’t want to barge in, assert her authority, and throw the household into chaos. A slow transition seemed wisest.

  Mrs. Fitzhugh remained behind when the others left. “Would you like me to show you to your chambers, ma’am? Your maid and belongings arrived earlier, so everything should be in order.”

  Ben clasped Eve’s hand. “Allow me.” He drew her toward the curved staircase. “Thank you, Mrs. Fitzhugh,” he called over his shoulder.

  The woman smiled fondly at him. “It is my pleasure, Mr. Hillary.”

  Above stairs, Ben led her to a doorway in the middle of the corridor. He paused with his hand on the handle. “You may change anything you do not like. The decor may not be fit for a lady’s tastes.”

  Eve pursed her lips. “Are you trying to torture me? Open the door!”

  He grinned, stole a quick kiss, and pushed open the door. Eve gasped. Never had she seen anything more beautiful. Rich green and crimson silk fabrics woven together with gold thread hung from the windows and puddled on the floor. An equally decadent coordinating fabric draped the carved bed, and a plush coverlet that Eve wanted to curl up in covered the thick mattress. A hand-painted cabinet held porcelain vases and silver candelabras with new candles.

  She moved toward the intricately carved dressing table as if she was in a trance. Colorful bottles had been grouped together on the surface. “What are these?” She pulled the stopper out of one and held it under her nose for a tentative sniff. A woodsy lemon-like scent wafted on the air, and she sighed with pleasure.

  Ben came up beside her and reached for a different bottle. “These are essential oils from Egypt. One of man’s earliest forms of medicine, I’ve been told. I don’t know what power they have to heal, but they have a lovely scent. This is origanum.” He held the bottle out for her to sniff. It was a sweet and spicy scent and reminiscent of his cologne.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this, Ben. I feel as if I’ve traveled to another world.” She replaced the bottle and wandered to a small wardrobe to see what treasures were hidden inside. Long lengths of colorful cloth hung from the pegs. “Beautiful. Are these draperies too?”

  He grinned. “No, this is called a sari. Women in India wear them.”

  She snatched the translucent cloth and held it up. “Ladies wear this? How?”

  “They do not wear this alone.” He reached for two satin pieces: a short corset-type garment that would come down to just beneath her breasts, and a colorful petticoat. “Once the blouse and petticoat are donned, the women drape the fabric around their waist and over the shoulder. You may use them however you see fit, though.”

  “Do you like how the women dress?” she asked as a flood of heat swept through her.

  He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. His blue eyes darkened as he held her gaze. “I do.”

  “Hmm.” She didn’t trust her voice not to crack. Replacing the fabric, she shut the wardrobe doors, ending the discussion of saris, and placed a bit of distance between herself and the slightly scandalous attire. “I do not see a thing I would change about my rooms. I will be quite comfortable here.”

  His relieved smile caused her heart to hitch. He’d truly been concerned she would not like her chambers, but she could not imagine a more perfect set of rooms.

  After testing the fainting couch by lightly bouncing up and down while seated, she smiled up at him. “Where are your chambers?”

  “Through the doors. Would you like a tour?”

  She hesitated. It was on the tip of her tongue to say it would be inappropriate, before realizing a tour of a gentleman’s private chambers—at least her husband’s—was no longer forbidden. Her stomach tumbled at the thought of what was to come later. “Perhaps we could visit the gardens first?”

  His eyebrows lowered over his eyes. “If you are certain you aren’t too tired…”

  “Not one bit.”

  Twenty-one

  Ben had enjoyed showing Eve her new home, and the obvious pleasure she’d derived from her chambers was heartening. Furthermore, he had delighted in her company throughout the day. Even their dinner conversation had been stimulating and a break from his usual dull evenings at home. But, God’s blood, lusting for his wife seemed to slow time to a near stop. Twilight had barely descended when he could no longer pretend he wasn’t preoccupied with having her beneath him.

  “Shall we ready for bed?”

  Eve blinked, and a becoming blush swept across her cheeks. Eventually, she nodded. “I will summon my maid.”

  That had been an hour ago. Now crickets chirped outside his bedchamber window, and every time he heard Eve giggling with her maid through the adjoining door, he forced himself to the other side of the room rather than bursting in on her. Surely, brides frowned upon that sort of thing.

  “Good night, ma’am. I will wait for you to ring for me tomorrow.” Her maid’s muffled farewell drew him to the door.

  “Good night, Alice.”

  As the outer door to her chamber closed, he secured the sash to his dressing gown and let himself into his wife’s chambers. Eve was seated at her dressing table, pulling a brush through the curls falling to the middle of her back. Rich like mahogany, her hair glistened in the candlelight.

  Her equally dark gaze locked with his in the looking glass. Her eyes glittered like obsidian stone, more black than rich brown in the muted light. She set the brush on the dressing table and smoothed her hands over her legs with a shy smile.

  His blood scorched his veins when he saw what she had done. “You are wearing the sari.” His voice sounded husky.

  A rosy blush covered the exposed areas of her chest, neck, and face. Her lovely freckles faded. They weren’t nearly as plentiful as she had promised, but he would still have fun searching every inch of her.

  “Alice and I were uncertain if we draped it correctly,” she said, her blush deepening, “but it hasn’t fallen off.”

  A long length of fabric was bunched at her feet beneath the dressing table, and the precariously draped silk could easily slide from her shoulder with any movement.

  “That wouldn’t be the worst outcome,” he said with a wink.

  “Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose?”

  “Not mine.” Ben came up behind her to place his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her neck. “You look stunning.” The scent of
elemi—from the first bottle of oil she had selected earlier—wafted from her freshly bathed skin. He gently nipped her earlobe. “And you smell amazing.”

  She closed her eyes. Inky lashes fanned against her fair complexion to create a striking contrast, and a ragged exhale escaped her. When she opened her eyes, her wide-eyed gaze darted toward the bed reflected in the mirror.

  “All right,” she said in a much stronger voice than he’d expected, given her show of nerves. “I am ready.”

  He grinned. “Not quite yet, love.”

  His brave little bride was far from ready, but she would be keen for the marriage bed after he introduced her to the pleasures one could have there.

  He slowly combed his fingers through the silky strands of her hair. The damp ends curled around his fingers, and he gently tugged until she tipped up her face. “I love you, Eve Lorraine Elizabeth Thorne Hillary.” He kissed the end of her pert nose.

  Her mouth curved into a tentative smile. “I love you too.” He was happy to hear no hesitation in her profession.

  “Come with me.” He urged her to follow him and led her to stand beside the bed.

  She averted her gaze as he reached for the sari and slowly unwrapped his gift. As the length of shimmering cloth coiled at her feet, a tremor shook her lush frame. She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “I am sorry. I don’t mean to be nervous.”

  Affection filled his heart until he felt it might burst. He was hard and eager to be buried deep inside her, but he only had patience and tenderness for her. “You have no cause to be sorry. Nerves are to be expected, but I promise we will not do anything you don’t want.”

  He drew her into his embrace, placing a kiss on her hair. She dissolved against him: warm, pliable, and so trusting he couldn’t bear to betray her faith in him. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her sweet scent, contentment settling in his bones. Eve made him feel whole. She gave him peace, and he wanted to give her the same.

  “Lie on the bed, sweetheart. I know how to make you more comfortable.” He helped her climb onto the thick mattress and recline on the pillow. Her posture was as rigid as iron, as if the prospect of their joining was as enticing as a visit from the dentist.

  He turned toward her dressing table to retrieve a bottle of scented oil before she saw his amused grin. As he returned to the bed, he unstoppered the bottle, poured several drops of oil into his palm, and placed the bottle on the side table. Climbing on the bed, he rubbed his hands together and gently lifted her foot. She rose to her elbows, her forehead wrinkling.

  “I am only going to rub your foot now.” He kissed her instep, then placed small pecks on each toe, erasing the tiny line between her elegant brows. “Lie back.”

  With the first stroke of his thumb across the arch of her foot, she released a breath and rested against the pillow, placing herself in his hands. He smiled and kissed her ankle before circling the delicate bone with his thumb. Slowly moving up her calf with long sweeps of his hands, he eased the hem of her petticoat higher on her legs, feasting on the sight. He’d often imagined what she would look like bared to him, and he wasn’t disappointed. Divine ankles, well-sculpted calves, luscious thighs.

  A strong urge to place his lips against her soft skin and nibble his way up her leg until he could taste her rushed over him. He held back, his muscles quivering. Much enjoyment could come from a slow seduction, and he wanted Eve as hungry for him as he was for her.

  He concentrated on making long downward strokes over the plumper flesh of her inner thigh. Her chest rose and fell steadily, and a soft sigh slipped past her lips. Moving to her other leg, he repeated the gentle kneading and caresses, allowing his fingers to graze the dark curls between her legs. She shifted on the bed, her sigh closer to a moan.

  When she opened her eyes, they were cloudy with desire. He smiled and stretched over her body to retrieve more oil. His shaft strained against the front of his robe, throbbing when he brushed her leg through the thin material. She lightly gripped the edge of his robe and pushed it down his shoulders to reveal his chest. She sucked in a breath, stroking his pride as he’d been stroking her body.

  “Would you like me to remove my dressing gown?” he asked, teasing her. She wouldn’t be ready yet.

  She surprised him, however, by nodding. Returning to kneel between her legs, he untied the sash and shrugged off his robe. Her eyes flared wide for a brief moment.

  He rested his hand on the gentle swell of her stomach and cocked an eyebrow. “Do you like what you see?”

  Her skin heated under his touch and she turned scarlet. “It is impolite to solicit compliments, sir.”

  A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Forgive my rudeness.” He didn’t need compliments on his physique, although they would be arousing as hell to hear.

  He smoothed his palms over her stomach, his thumbs caressing along the hem of her blouse, skimming just below her breasts. Her nipples hardened, but he resisted taking one in his mouth. He wanted her writhing on the bed, nearly mad with desire before he touched her in that way. She swallowed hard as he swept his hands slowly over her body, around her waist to the small of her back, and along the top of her buttocks. She moaned softly, her lips curving into a sensual smile.

  God, she was beautiful, perfection. Strong in spirit, and yet so fragile when his hands spanned her waist. A swell of protectiveness built inside him.

  She was his. His to cherish. His to love until…until death parted them. A sharp pain pierced his chest, making him want to wrap her tightly in his arms to keep her with him forever. Loving Eve made him more vulnerable than he’d been in a long time. He hated it. And yet he reveled in it as well. She made him feel alive again.

  He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly tight and achy. “I would like you with less clothing, my dear. May I?”

  Her eyes flickered open and she met his gaze without any signs of apprehension. “Yes.”

  * * *

  Eve’s lower belly fluttered when Ben slid his hands under her blouse. His fingers skimmed the sides of her breasts before he pushed the fabric high on her chest. The fresh air on her bare breasts made them feel heavier and achy. She arched her back, seeking relief, but he rocked back on his knees, not touching her like she wanted. Unable to help herself, she brushed her hand across her nipple to ease her own need.

  He uttered a mild curse as his heated gaze traveled over her, causing an unfamiliar pulse between her legs. “You are killing me, Kitten.”

  If that were true, he appeared happy to meet his death. His blue eyes were almost black and smoldering. She stole a glance at his cock, and then because it was a shocking sight, she looked again. In no way did he resemble the statues from the Elgin Marbles exhibit at the museum. His jutted long and powerfully from his body, and caused her a moment of trepidation. But then his hands slid to her back, soothing and gentle, and she became swept up in the lovely tingles raining over her.

  He lifted her to a seated position and shimmied the blouse over her head. The decadent slip of satin over her skin elicited the most delightful shivers. He cupped her breast and smoothed his thumb along her flesh. Her nipple hardened even though he avoided touching it. “Beautiful,” he murmured and covered her lips with his.

  His mouth lightly played over hers with maddening slowness. His tongue flicked along the seam of her lips until she was panting.

  “Kiss me,” she pleaded.

  His mouth came down harder against hers and his tongue swept between her lips, no longer teasing. He was taking possession of her—mind, body, heart—and she wanted nothing more than to be his forever. She startled slightly when her back made contact with the coverlet. While his kisses and the lovely feel of his fingers slipping through her hair had distracted her, she hadn’t noticed he was stretching her out beneath him. His hot skin against hers branded her.

  Ben pushed back to his knees and reached for her petticoat. She follo
wed the flexing of his muscles with her eyes as he wrestled the petticoat over her derriere and tossed it on the floor. With nothing between them—both of them as bare as the day they’d been born—she didn’t feel vulnerable or embarrassed as she had feared. It felt right and symbolic of their promise to one another. There were no barriers keeping them apart, no walking away from their troubles. From this moment forward, they would be one in facing whatever life gave them.

  She covered his hand resting beneath her breast and entwined their fingers. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I missed you so much.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips, closing his eyes as if struggling to maintain his composure. When he finally opened them again, his eyes shimmered in the candlelight. “I will never leave you again, Evie. I wouldn’t survive.”

  He kissed her hand once more before cupping the soft underside of her breast and settling over her to lick a wide circle around her nipple. His tongue moved closer on each sweep until the tingling became too much. When he covered her nipple, his mouth hot and wet surrounding her, she cried out with relief. The gentle but firm pull of his mouth sent the ache to a new place. The pressure of his weight against her sex heightened her sensitivity. Deep inside, she throbbed.

  His hand slid between their bodies to cup her, and the heat of his touch spread through her body. She bit her bottom lip to stop the unladylike groan building at the back of her throat from escaping. She hadn’t expected this, the intensity and fire flowing through her veins.

  He shifted to the bed beside her and gazed down at her. “Allow yourself to feel everything. Let the sensations carry you without worrying what will come next.”

  He kissed her tenderly once more before returning to her breast. Eve’s eyes drifted shut when his lips closed around her, but they popped open again. The thrill of watching him kiss her so intimately was too tempting. She buried her hands in his golden brown hair, then trailed her fingers along his broad shoulders and down his back as far as she could reach. His skin was like satin stretched across granite.