Truly a Wife (Free Fellows League 4)

“Yes, Daniel, Carville proposed to me last season.” She pinned him with an unwavering gaze. “Is that so surprising? You proposed to me last night.”

“I was drunk last night,” he defended.

“Lord Carville was sober last season,” Miranda told him. “But I refused him just the same.”

Daniel reached up and raked his fingers through his hair. “I had no idea that you were aware of Carville’s proclivity. It’s a very well kept secret.” It was such a well kept secret that had he thought Miranda was serious about marrying the man, Daniel would have been forced to warn her about Carville’s mating habits himself.

“Pooh!” she exclaimed. “My footman warned me about Lord Carville, and that was before Carville propositioned him. I may not understand exactly how two men …” She let that thought trail away. She didn’t understand exactly how a man and a woman made love either. “But I know there are men who prefer other men, but who require a wife and an heir all the same.

“And while I appreciate the offer, I don’t need you to keep my secret, Your Grace, for you have more than enough to worry about in keeping your own.” Miranda’s cheeks flushed with color when she realized she hadn’t meant to go quite that far. She consoled herself by answering Daniel’s question. “And to answer your question: I helped bathe my father during his last illness.”

“Your father?” Daniel showed his discomfort at the physical comparison. “The only nude male body you’ve ever seen was your father’s?”

“Except for paintings and statues and yours.” She looked at him from beneath her lashes once again.

“Your father was an old man, Miranda,” he said. “I am not.”

“Ned said as much when he helped me undress you.”

“Oh?” He glanced around.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “And he told me you wouldn’t appreciate the comparison to my father, but I assured him that as far as I was concerned, one naked male is very much like another.”

Daniel laughed, a rich full-bodied laugh that made his ribs hurt like the very devil. “Only a woman of your vast experience,” he emphasized the word, “could make such a patently ridiculous statement. That’s like saying all horses are black in the dark.”

She folded a clean square of bandage, then leaned over him to tie it in place.

Daniel gaped as the lapels of her brocade robe opened wide enough to give him an unhampered view of her truly spectacular bosom.

“Aren’t they, Your Grace?”

Magnificent. Superlative. Gorgeous. Tempting. “Aren’t they what?” It took Daniel a moment to comprehend her question.

“All horses black in the dark.”

Daniel reached up, without warning, tangled his fingers in Miranda’s hair, gently pulled her face to his, and kissed her.

The first touch of his lips on hers was tentative, like the soft touch of a moth’s wings. He kissed her gently, lightly, allowing Miranda time to become accustomed to the taste and touch of him. Then he slowly moved his mouth over hers, nibbling at the corners of her mouth, tasting and testing the texture of her lips before gently coaxing them to part.

And like a moth drawn to a candle flame, Miranda succumbed to the lure of Daniel.

He swept his tongue past her lips, inside the warm, sweet recesses of her mouth, inhaling her breath as he did so, taking his time persuading her to grant him further liberties.

Miranda gave a soft sigh of surrender, leaned closer, and did as he willed, tentatively meeting his questing tongue with her own. Her breath quickened and her heart began a rapid tattoo as she explored the interior of his mouth and urged him to continue his exploration of hers.

She felt the blood rushing through her body as he stopped exploring the interior of her mouth long enough to nibble at her lips once again, tracing the texture of them with a light brush of his mouth, warming her in places she’d never realized could become so feverish.

Her legs began to quake, and Miranda thought her knees would buckle from the force of the white-hot emotion flowing through her. He urged her closer as he deepened his kiss. His tongue delved deep into the lush sweetness of her mouth, and she mirrored his actions as he plundered the depths, then retreated into politeness, before plundering again.

Daniel loosened his hold on Miranda’s hair, sliding his hand out of her hair, down the line of her jaw, beneath her heavy tresses, where he cupped the nape of her neck while he tenderly massaged her earlobe with the pad of his thumb.

Miranda had never felt anything so soothing or so exhilarating. He tasted of cherries and coffee and a flavor that could only be Daniel. And suddenly Miranda developed an immense craving for cherries and coffee à la Daniel.

She’d been kissed before, but never like this. She had no idea kissing could be so extraordinarily wonderful. The only other kisses she’d ever received had been mere brushes of lips upon her gloved fingers, or wrists, or a slight brush of lips against her face or eyelids. The closest Daniel had ever come to kissing her had been the brush of his lips against the corner of her mouth that had sealed their wedding vows the night before. And that slight touch of his lips against her flesh couldn’t begin to compare with this.

No wonder mothers warned their daughters against allowing gentlemen to kiss them full on the lips. No wonder girls fell from grace every season. Running off with dancing masters and army officers, eloping to Scotland or sailing off to ports unknown. If other men kissed half as well as Daniel, if other girls felt half of what she was feeling, it was a wonder there were any maidens left in England.

He swept her mouth with his tongue again, and Miranda moaned her pleasure.