She laughed lightly. “I told you that I don’t have the powers to do that.”
“And yet you have.”
“Then call me fortunate,” she said playfully.
“Call me fortunate,” he corrected.
Sophia leaned down toward him, closer and closer, until her mouth was a hairbreadth away from his. “Call us fortunate,” she said. Then she touched her lips to his. Her touch was tentative, and he wanted nothing more than to devour her. To tease his tongue into her mouth and invade her. It had been a long time since he’d had a woman. But this was different. This was her trusting him.
Her lips grew a little firmer and he opened his mouth slightly, then tickled the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue. She opened for him, and he swept inside. She startled at first, but then she melted. He turned, wanting to be closer to her, and pulled her down to the floor with him, cradling her in his arms as he kissed her. His heart was pounding in his chest at her gentle responses, at the little whimpers she made in her throat. She melted in his arms. And it felt so damn good that he didn’t ever want to stop.
Ashley let his hand drift up her side, and she didn’t stop him. She didn’t react because she was so absorbed in the kiss. So, he took a moment to explore the arch of her back through her robe, but he could not get close enough. Not close enough at all. He pulled one hand down to untie the robe, wanting to press his skin against hers. Her mouth still let him plunder, and those sounds still escaped her throat. He tugged loose the sash of the robe she wore, and spread it open.
But then there was a heavy knock on the door. Ashley lifted his head, groaned loudly, and swore beneath his breath. She giggled in his arms. It made him want to smile along with her. And tickle her to make her do it some more.
“Yes!” he called, more than a little bit frustrated.
The door opened slightly and Wilkins poked his head through the opening. He startled for a moment at the scene before him, but quickly composed himself. He looked everywhere but directly at Sophia.
“I didn’t say for you to open the door,” Ashley groused as he brought the edges of Sophia’s robe together. She burrowed her face in his neck, and he liked it immensely.
“Beg your pardon, Your Grace. But it’s Lady Anne.”
Ashley sat up straighter. “What about her?”
“She’s having a night terror,” Wilkins said.
Sophia crawled from his lap so he could rise. Ashley adjusted his trousers and pulled her to her feet. “Wilkins will see you back to your room.”
She nodded, her brows drawn together with worry. “Do you need some help? With Anne, I mean?”
He shook his head. Anne didn’t respond to anyone but him. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said with a soft smile. Then, with a twinkle in her eye, she stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. He wanted to drown in her once again. But Wilkins cleared his throat.
“See Miss Thorne to her room,” Ashley barked at Wilkins. The man merely nodded once. “And your discretion is warranted.” He nodded once more.
With that, Ashley started down the corridor, wit
h the taste of Sophia Thorne on his lips and the feel of her in his hands. And all he could think about was how much he wanted more.
Fourteen
Wilkins said not a single word to her as he navigated the maze of corridors that led back to her chambers. He walked stone-faced, not showing a hint of emotion. It made Sophia want to stick her tongue out at him, or pull her nightrail up around her knees and dance around him, just to see how he would respond.
The very thought of it brought a smile to her lips. She probably looked like the cat that ate the canary when the butler stopped at her door, opened it for her, and stepped to the side.
“Good night, Wilkins,” she murmured.
“Miss Thorne,” he said with a serene nod of his head.
Sophia stepped into the room and leaned heavily against the door. She hugged her arms tightly around herself and squeezed, a giddy laugh escaping her throat. Ashley had kissed her. He’d really kissed her. And it was nothing like Sophia had expected a kiss to be. She hadn’t expected at all for it to be like that. For him to taste like that. For him to take over her senses like that. She spun quickly in a circle, his dressing gown billowing around her.
“Where have you been?” a deep voice barked from the chair beside her bed.
Sophia stopped spinning and turned to face the noise. “Marcus?” she asked. Faint light shone on half of his face, casting the rest of him in shadow. He looked none too pleased, and Sophia raised her chin a notch to stare back at him. “What are you doing here?”
He crossed one foot over the other knee, shifting slightly in the chair in a relaxed pose, a pose Sophia knew well wasn’t relaxed at all. “I came to collect my wayward sister,” he said. “Both of them.”