They exchanged sultry, satisfied smiles.
“Butyouaren’t very vocal during. Do men ever do a lot of shouting? The last time we...”
“Made love,” he supplied patiently. He’d married a blue-blooded woman, a former countess, and he’d been a soldier. And while he occasionally enjoyed scandalizing her, he also loved her refinement and was generally quite gentle with her sensibilities.
“All you said was ‘Christ.God, that’s good. Yes, Delilah. God, yes.’”
He froze at this recitation.
She’d even done his voice. A husky, urgent baritone.
Her eyes were dancing wickedly now.
“I have seldom felt so conflicted,” he said slowly. “I’m very embarrassed... and very amused... and very, very aroused. I do believeyousaid...” He leaned forward and breathed the words into her ear. “‘Harder, Tristan. Please.Please. Now.’”
She closed her eyes, awash in lust. She drew in a shuddering breath.
He kissed her. Softly, softly, as if it was the very first time. And desire hit her bloodstream in a rush that made her breath catch.
“That. That little sound you make. Christ,” he breathed. “It makes me hard every time.”
She trailed her fingers over his thigh up to his groin, and ascertained the truth of this for herself.
Her fingers lingered purposefully and skillfully there, until his breathing was quite rough.
“What if one of our guests needs something?” she whispered.
“Like what? Earmuffs to drown out Corporal Hardcock?”
She stifled laughter. “We’rerightnext to the jar.”
“Two of them are busy, the rest are out, and Angelique and Lucien are likely enjoying, oh, I don’t know, spillikins. It’s been two weeks. I need you.”
Who was she to countermand the famous Captain Hardy?
She shut the door and locked it and surrendered herself into his arms.
Angelique found Lucien in their room, rummaging through his clothing press for a fresh cravat. He’d discovered that he’d spilled gravy on his. Such was the romance of married life.
“Lucien. Listen.”
“No,” he said darkly. “I refuse. I’m afraid to stop and listen now in my own home. I am scarred by the sound of Corporal Dawson’s ecstasy.”
She laughed. “No,listen. It’s quiet. Everyone is out for the evening, including Corporal Dawson and his wife.”
“Everyone?”
“Everyone except Delilah and Tristan. Whatevershall we do?”
They fixed each other with smolderingly significant gazes.
“Why,” Lucien mused, softly drawing out the word, “do we make love only in our bedroom?”
She was instantly breathless. “Do you think about making love in... other locations?”
“Nearly everywhere I go I eventually imagine you there with me and nude, I confess. The warehouse, the ship, in a hack, the back room of White’s. But that’s how men’s minds work.”
“I’m so flattered.”