Brianna had an infernal knack for complicating things that should be simple.
He sighed and set down the invitation, finding the vague scent of Brianna’s perfume that clung to the paper beguiling. “Since she has doubtless sent out other invitations to this event, I suppose I have little choice but to attend. Please check my calendar and rearrange any appointments if possible. I think I am supposed to see Lord Liverpool during this time, and one does not put off the Prime Minister unless he’s agreeable to it. If he is, you will accompany me to the country and we can get in some work while at Rolthven. Right now I had better go find my wife and try to discover if she is plotting anything else I am unaware of.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Mills moved with his usual unobtrusive efficiency as Colton rose and left his study. In the main hall he found the butler, who informed him that yes, indeed, the Duchess was home, having just returned.
As he went up the graceful sweep of the main stairway to the second floor where their apartments were located, Colton contemplated how to handle the situation. Firm remonstration, at a guess. Though he didn’t want to appear ungrateful for a celebration in his honor, she must understand that she couldn’t reorder his schedule. He paused to knock on the door of her bedroom, reminded himself she was his wife, this was his house, and opened it instead.
Her maid glanced up, startled at his abrupt and unprecedented entrance into her mistress’s bedchamber in the middle of the afternoon. She was in the act of shaking out one of those ridiculously sheer undergarments Brianna had begun to favor, the filmy lace suspended in her hands as she dropped into a deep curtsy. “Your Grace.”
A slight splash behind the screen on the dais at the end of the room told him Brianna’s location. She was humming as she bathed, a surprisingly melodic tune. He didn’t know his beautiful bride could sing.
If she was in her bath, she was naked.
That irrefutable fact held him checked for a moment, for while he’d come to talk to her, he hadn’t expected to find her nude. It was probably best for him to turn around and leave, the voice of reason in his head suggested. They could discuss the party over dinner. He could even request her presence beforehand for a glass of sherry and introduce the subject at that time.
There was another faint splash.
The sound was unexpectedly erotic. Odd—before now, he hadn’t considered bathing a seductive pastime.
Colton glanced at Brianna’s maid. “Please excuse us. She’ll ring later if she needs you.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” The young woman draped the chemise quickly over the dressing table stool and hurried off, discreetly shutting the bedroom door behind her.
“Colton?” Brianna said from behind the screen, obviously registering the sound of his voice.
It was four o’clock in the afternoon, he reminded himself. Besides, he was annoyed with his wife’s confounding behavior.
His unruly cock didn’t care. Colton hadn’t even seen Brianna yet and he could already feel his erection grow, the fragrance of lavender soap reminding him of the softness of her scent. The tantalizing vision his mind created of bare shoulders propped against the edge of the tub evoked a physical response so strong he couldn’t quite believe it.
Four o’clock in the afternoon was a fine time to make love to your wife.
He walked over and went around the screen.
A pair of gorgeous dark blue eyes stared up at him as he climbed the two steps and stood at the edge of the tub. Brianna had her pale golden hair caught up in a careless topknot, wayward strands escaping to brush her slender neck. The upper curves of her breasts were completely exposed, the sumptuous flesh wet and glistening, and her smooth cheeks held a pretty flush from the heated water that deepened as he examined what he could see of her with leisurely inspection. “I received your invitation.”
There was a double entendre if ever there was one, he thought, his lascivious gaze fastened on the silken mounded flesh visible above the water.
“Did you?” There was a tentative note in her response, the tone of her voice hushed.
God help him, even her knees, just visible above the soapy water, were entrancing.
When a man found himself riveted by a joint, he was in trouble indeed.
“Yes,” he said hoarsely.
“Are you angry?”
He had come upstairs with the intention of telling her she couldn’t presume to arrange social events without consulting him, but now, looking down into her lovely face, he found he wasn’t nearly as exasperated as before. What he was feeling had nothing to do with irritation and everything to do with incipient lust. “I’m not sure. I wouldn’t say angry was the right word. Is there some reason you chose to not discuss this with me first?”
“Then it would hardly be a surprise, would it?”
“I suppose not,” he agreed, uncertain of how to handle the situation.
Her glimmering smile made blood he didn’t know he had left surge to his groin. “I’m so glad you are not upset with me. I wasn’t sure you would like the idea.”
He didn’t particularly, but it was impossible to concentrate on anything except the alluring sight of his breathtaking wife in her bath. Bathing anyone but himself was out of the realm of his experience, but he was willing to give it a try. He shrugged out of his coat and pulled off his cravat, seeing Brianna’s eyes widen. With deliberation, he removed the studs at his cuffs and then rolled up his sleeves. The soap sat in a small porcelain dish perched on the edge of the tub, and as he picked it up, he found that even the slick, wet feel of it aroused him. “Allow me to help you finish, madam.”
Brianna gave a small gasp as his sudsy hands slid over her exquisite breasts. They felt perfect in the warm water, full, firm, the resilient flesh like satin as he fondled and caressed. Colton took his time, weighing each one in turn, lifting the flesh as if gauging the ripeness. When her nipples hardened against his palms, he smiled, unable to help himself.
“I am . . .” Brianna said breathlessly, her eyes half closed, “. . . perfectly able to bathe myself.”
“You are perfect, that is for certain,” Colton responded, his cock so hard he feared he would burst from his breeches.
At four in the afternoon.
He washed her slender arms, the nape of her neck, the mesmerizing smoothness of her thighs. When he found the warm softness between her legs, she parted for him, her breathing shifting to small pants as he slid his fingers into heated tightness. The first moan made him long to elicit the second and he leaned forward to kiss her, his hand beginning a rhythmic motion against her sleek, satiny flesh.
This, he reminded himself, was
not
why he’d come to talk to her.
But a delightful change in plans just the same.
Her inner muscles clenched against his invading fingers and he smiled and deepened the kiss into something more urgent, more carnal.
It was wickedly strange to be touched such a way in broad daylight, but Brianna found she didn’t have one single objection.
Not one.
Colton’s mouth was warm and insistent, his tongue sweeping deep, and she touched his face lightly, her damp fingers sliding along his lean jaw as his thumb gently rotated between her parted thighs. Involuntarily she quivered, pleasure spiking through her body to settle in the pit of her stomach.
“Delightful,” he murmured against her lips. “But I can do even better. I think you are done bathing. Shall we move to the bed?”
Before she could answer he plunged both arms into the water and lifted her from the tub, heedless of his clothes. Brianna gasped at the audacity of the gesture because it was so unexpected and out of character. “Colton! You’ll get wet.”
“I’ve an entire wardrobe full of dry clothes in the next room.”
That was true, but she was still amazed he would act so impetuously. She clung to his broad shoulders as he strode across the room and deposited her dripping body on her bed. Systematically he began to disrobe, his gaze fastened on her. Boots first, tossed carelessly aside in a very unColton-like way, his fine linen shirt—now soaked—unbuttoned and haphazardly discarded, then his breeches, revealing his rampant erection.
They had never before made love during the day. Naturally the draperies were open, and sunlight fell across his skin, gilding it to gold, defining the sleek, hard muscles of his body, lending highlights to his thick hair. Brianna knew her husband thought she was beautiful, for he had told her so with flattering sincerity, and the evidence of his desire for her was especially obvious at this moment. But she found him beautiful too, in an entirely masculine way, with his lean, hard body and chiseled features. People tended to think of Robert as the handsomest brother because of his roguish charm, but in her not unbiased opinion, Colton was just as attractive if not more so. He didn’t smile often enough, it was true, and she wished that would change, but from the very first time she’d seen him, she had just
known
.
He was hers. And she had no intention of sharing him with any other woman.
She
must
be making some progress; the staid, reserved man she’d married three months before wouldn’t have hauled her out of her bath in the middle of the afternoon.
“I want you,” he said, the declaration unnecessary because the physical evidence stood high against his taut stomach.
“We are in accord then, Your Grace,” she murmured, pulling at the ribbon holding her hair and letting the mass tumble free. “I want you.”
He climbed on the bed and moved over her, trapping her beneath him, his mouth seeking the sensitive juncture of neck and shoulder. “I don’t have time for this.”
It was just about the least romantic thing she could think of for a man to say, but from Colton, it was a high compliment. Brianna slid her hands across the muscled hardness of his shoulders with a breathless laugh. “I shall contrive to make every minute worth your while.”
“Hmm.” He licked her throat, his erection rigid against her thigh.
The noncommittal response didn’t bother her because her wayward body was gripped by desire, and as much as she wanted to please and beguile her handsome husband, she also felt an overwhelming need to have him inside her. When his hand cupped her bare breast, she arched into the caress, shameless and uninhibited, and a low moan tore from her throat. Between her legs, she throbbed. She could feel she was wet—and it had nothing to do with her bath.
“So soft,” Colton said in a hoarse voice, fondling and gently kneading.
Don’t wait
. How wanton would it be to ask him to take her as fast and furiously as he had in the carriage and the other night after she practiced the advice in chapter two?
For a man as conservative as her husband, it
would
probably seem wanton, she decided in a haze of need. Brianna bit her lip as his hands continued to roam, but she subtly shifted position, lifting her hips to urge him without words, her heart pounding.
Colton apparently understood, for he used his knees to part her legs and took her mouth in a searing kiss just as he took her body. The long, hard length of his cock sank into her passage and wrung a low cry of pleasure from deep in her throat.
Though she was afraid they had a long way to go in getting to know each other in day-to-day life, Brianna thought as he began to move in long, sure strokes that shot tingles of blissful sensation through every nerve ending, here they were achieving accord. Colton’s face was dark with passion, his azure eyes glittering in the afternoon light as he quickened the pace to the sharpening bite of her nails on his shoulders.
Her eyes drifted shut, his scent surrounding her, crisp and clean and male, the power of his body an aphrodisiac, the upward spiral to sexual fulfillment carrying her helplessly to a dizzying, rapturous height before she fell gladly into paradise. Brianna cried out as she climaxed, a short, sharp noise she barely registered, and Colton made a low sound in answer, his tall body going rigid. The pulse of his ejaculation was unmistakable as he surged deep into her trembling body one last time and flooded her with his release.
In the lethargic wash of the aftermath, Brianna didn’t protest when he rolled to the side, taking both their entwined bodies. Nestled next to him, she felt the heave of his hard chest with a sense of pure satisfaction.
“I think I’ve decided bathing oneself is overrated,” she murmured teasingly once she could summon the strength to speak. “I might require your assistance from now on.”
“I am your servant always, madam.” Colton touched her bare hip, just a brush of his fingers and his voice was light, but his expression hard to read. He gave a small sigh. “Though I admit what just happened was not at all my intention when I came up here to speak with you.”
Clasped naked in his arms, she recognized her advantage and she pressed it. “Oh yes, the invitation. You said you didn’t mind.”
“No,” he corrected, a hint of the austere duke creeping back into his voice. “I said I wasn’t angry. There is a distinct difference. Mills seems to think you are doing this for my birthday.”