“It was worth it.”
His soft laughter teased her hair. “Then I was right.”
“About what?”
“Physically we are highly compatible. We would suit each other very well in the marriage bed.”
Arabella felt her defenses leap to life. “Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean we would suit in other aspects of marriage. A short while ago, we were fighting just as my parents did. That is hardly the model of an ideal marriage.”
“No, but I suspect an ideal marriage would bore us both to tears. Fighting can be invigorating,” Marcus said thoughtfully. “Admit it, you found it exhilarating, locking swords with me.”
“I found it perfectly wretched,” Arabella replied honestly.
“But it was exhilarating to make up,” he prodded, a smile in his voice.
Unable to deny the truth of that, Arabella felt a strange turmoil of dismay and contentment ripple through her. Marcus’s passion was as thrilling and overwhelmingly wonderful as she had feared it would be. She shut her eyes, savoring his tenderness, the intimacy, the bliss of lying here in his arms like this.
When she wouldn’t answer, he eased from beneath her and rolled onto his side so he could gaze down at her. “Why don’t we declare a truce for now? No more fighting tonight. Just pleasure.”
Arabella hesitated. She didn’t want to fight with Marcus. She couldn’t regret giving him her innocence, either. But did she want to entertain the scandalous notion of sharing his bed for the entire night?
The trouble was her foolish heart. Could she trust herself to keep emotionally uninvolved with Marcus if she surrendered to his lovemaking?
At her delay, Marcus bent to place a light kiss on her lips. “A truce, love. For the remainder of the night, we will forget about our wager and just enjoy ourselves.”
Arabella bit her lip, telling herself that she shouldn’t worry. She couldn’t resist his lovemaking, obviously, but now that she was forewarned, she could guard her heart more ardently. She had only to imagine Marcus with his beautiful ex-mistress to bolster her resolve. She wouldn’t be so foolish as to fall in love with him if she kept reminding herself of the danger.
“Very well, a truce,” she murmured. Reaching up, she slipped her arms around his neck. “So what shall we do with the rest of the night?”
A slow, very male smile curved his mouth. “I suggest we work on your education. Your friend Fanny obviously didn’t tell you all there is to know about passion. You know little about my body, for instance.”
Taking her hand, he guided it to his loins, letting her touch him…his firm, flat abdomen, the long, thick shaft of his manhood, the heavy, swollen sacs beneath. When hesitantly Arabella began to explore his masculine attributes on her own, she discovered his skin was hot and sleek and oh, so arousing.
Her fingers curled around his heated length, squeezing gently. It was burning hot against her palm, hard as steel, throbbing beneath her touch. And when Marcus closed his eyes in obvious enjoyment, his response made her feel powerful and shivery and womanly all at once.
Intoxicated by the sensation, she bent down to kiss him. No, Arabella thought, feeling a searing rush of delight flare through her. Her friend Fanny hadn’t told her even a fraction of everything she wanted to know about passion with Marcus.
Chapter Twelve
Are you certain you don’t wish to consider the earl’s offer? There are worse things than a marriage of convenience to a wealthy, handsome nobleman.
– Fanny to Arabella
Not surprisingly, Arabella rose late the next morning, weary from her lack of sleep but filled with a warm glow from Marcus’s enchanting lovemaking. As he’d predicted, her body felt a bit tender, but she couldn’t regret spending the entire night with him and experiencing all the incredible delights he’d promised her.
Marcus had shown her pleasure so deep, so blissful, that her senses might never recover.
When finally Arabella finished bathing and dressing and went downstairs expecting to find him at breakfast, she discovered from Simpkin that she had just missed his lordship.
Ignoring her sharp little stab of disappointment, she read the note Marcus had left her, which said he had unexpected business in London but that he would return this evening in time for dinner.
In truth, Arabella realized, she was glad she wouldn’t have to face him just now. After the wanton passion they’d shared all through the night, she needed time to regain a semblance of composure.
She felt sluggish and bleary-eyed all morning long-until Simpkin announced that Lady Eleanor Pierce was calling. Wondering at the purpose of the visit, Arabella received Marcus’s sister in the morning parlor and was flattered by the warmth of her greeting.
“How delightful to see you again, Miss Loring,” Lady Eleanor said with an appearance of genuine sincerity.
Arabella smiled at her caller, who was garbed in a pale blue carriage dress and bonnet that set off her raven curls and rosy complexion to perfection. “I regret you drove all this distance for nothing, Lady Eleanor. Your brother has gone to London for the day.”