Warmth welled as he joined her; bone-deep pleasure swelled and spilled through her, golden glory filling her veins as, on a groan, he lost himself in her.
Smiling deliriously, she wrapped her arms about him and, without hesitation or intention, surrendered to the night.
Several hours later, she stirred, then woke to the unexpected sensation of a hard, still-hot, naked male body beside her.
Instantly she knew who it was—her senses didn’t even jump, just purred. Turning onto her side, she looked at him, at the sliver of face she
could see given he was slumped facedown on the pillow beside hers.
She looked, let her gaze caress; unable to resist the temptation, she let her feelings creep from within and stretch. Tentative and strange. What she felt…wasn’t something she’d felt before.
Admitting as much was tantamount to acknowledging that this bordered on the dangerous, that fate’s time—her boon—might already be running out. That if she wanted her heart to remain safe, untouched, untrammeled, then she should think of pulling back, of bringing this liaison to a close.
She shifted her gaze, looking past his shoulder to the open window beyond. To the night sky, still dark and heavy with cloud.
“I’ll leave before it’s light.” At his mumbled words, she glanced at him. He continued, his voice muffled by the pillow, “No one will see or know.”
She hesitated, then lifted one hand, set her palm to his shoulder, savored the width of the muscle, the latent strength, then slowly, following her hand with her gaze, she ran it down the long line of his back to his hip. “So…you’ll stay for a while?”
Her soft whisper hung in the night.
He shifted, rolled onto his side, caught her hand and lifted it to his lips to place a heated kiss in her palm. Through the shadows he met her eyes. “I’ll stay…for as long as there’s night.”
It was she who stretched and closed the distance to bring her lips to his; she who kissed him, then pushed him onto his back.
When she rose above him in the dark and impaled herself on his hard length, she sighed.
Dangerous it might be, but she knew she wouldn’t be giving up this pleasure, giving him up, anytime soon.
Not because she would have to battle to deny him, fight him for every inch of separation, not because avoiding him would be a social and logistical nightmare. Regardless of all else, as she rode him slowly, savoring the heat, the sweet build of passion, knowing the firestorm that would eventually come, feeling his hands close strongly about her waist, feeling the delicious tension rise…no matter the distraction, or perhaps because of it, one truth shone clearly in her mind.
She wouldn’t be curtailing their liaison because she didn’t want to.
Because she didn’t want to deny herself this pleasure.
Because she didn’t want to give up the feelings that along with the glory of satiation filled and swamped her heart.
The next morning they met as arranged near Tregoose, where the road from Coverack joined the road from Lizard Point. Madeline rode between Gervase and Harry as they continued past Helston and out onto the road to Penzance.
Breage was a small village north of the road about two miles west of Helston. The manor house they sought, however, lay to the south, between the road and the cliffs; they followed a narrow lane, then turned up a drive that ultimately led them to the front door.
No groom appeared to take their horses; looking around, they tied their reins to the low branches of a nearby tree. Then, with Gervase at her shoulder and Harry just behind, Madeline walked to the door.
Gervase’s sharp knock was eventually answered by an older middle-aged man, his neat clothes concealed behind a worn apron.
He looked from one to the other, then settled his gaze on Gervase. “How can I help you, sir?”
“Lord Crowhurst, Miss Gascoigne and Viscount Gascoigne to see Mr. Glendower.”
The man’s eyes widened; he recognized the names. He bobbed a bow. “I’m sure the master would be happy to see you, m’lords, ma’am, but he’s been called away. Urgent-like. He left early this morning.”
“Did he, indeed?”
Madeline glanced at Gervase; his eyes had narrowed. Summoning a smile, she took charge. “And you would be?”
The man responded to her smile with a grateful nod. “Gatting, ma’am. Me and the missus do for Mr. Glendower.”
“I confess we hadn’t realized until recently that he’d come to live in the district. How long has he been here?”