‘Mmm?’ He was nuzzling her ear which was good because she was not at all certain she could face him, not after that totally abandoned flood of passion, the intimacy, the shock of his words.
Sophie, my love. He didn’t mean it of course, he couldn’t, but the word, the concept would not leave her. I am falling in love with him. She should be terrified after what had happened last time, but all she felt was a rock-solid certainty that she was right to love him, that he cared for her, that he was a good man and she could trust him with her heart as well as the rest of her life. Such a fool to reject love because of one bad man.
‘Sophie?’
‘I am sorry, I was drifting.’ She snuggled down against him, then raised her head and me his gaze across the bare expanse of his chest. ‘I am being very selfish, don’t you want me to …’ Her voice trailed away. She knew some of the things that he might wish her to do, but she wasn’t certain she had the words for them, or even the nerve to mention them.
‘To what, Sophie?’ He was smiling at her, but not laughing at her ignorance.
‘To pleasure you.’ Her hand seemed to move of its own volition to the falls of his breeches.
‘Do you want to or do you just think you ought to?’ If she hadn’t known him so well now she would have thought it merely a request for information, but now she could hear the desire behind the words and his concern to keep it from being a demand.
‘Want.’ That was the truth. ‘Show me.’ Her fingers were already busy with the fastenings and Cal lifted his hips to give the breeches a sharp tug down. Sophie kept her eyes locked with his as her hand explored, found him, curled around. His eyes closed, his lips compressed on a groan.
‘Oh, so soft, like mushroom.’
Cal’s lids flew up. ‘Like what?’
‘Mushroom skin, or suede. So soft, and so hard underneath.’ Fascinated, she began to experiment. ‘So mobile.’
‘Sophie.’ It sounded as though Cal’s teeth were gritted. ‘Did you never touch your lover like this?’
‘No.’ She was up on her elbow now, her hair trailing across Cal’s chest. ‘He just, er, entered me.’
‘Bastard.’ Cal fell flat on his back with a gasp. ‘Sorry, him, I mean. Oh God, harder, Sophie, like this.’
He reached and covered her hand with his, tightened her tentative grasp, showed her what he needed, then jerked her against his chest, kissing her as he arched into her grip, moving with her until he bowed up, his cry hoarse against her lips and fell back.
The breeze swirled around them bringing the scent of crushed grass, musk, salt, sweat. Heaven. Sophie closed her eyes and slept.
She woke to the sound of pigeons cooing overhead, the distant sound of sheep and the awareness that she was alone on the crumpled greatcoat. ‘Cal?’
He came back through the wood carrying the water bottle and a large handkerchief, poured water over it and hunkered down beside her to wash her hands.
‘You are dressed.’
‘I thought it best. We can hardly stay here naked in the woods for the rest of the day, although you tempt me.’ He picked up her clothes and began to shake them out and hand them to her. Stockings and garters, chemise, stays. He knelt to lace them, then found her shirt.
He knows the correct order to put things back on again as well as being an expert in taking clothes off, Sophie thought ruefully as she fastened her skirts and shook them out. ‘I don’t suppose you have a comb.’ It was strangely reassuring that he shook his head. At least the man did not go out equipped for al fresco seduction.
She managed a reasonable braid with the aid of a piece of leather thong that Cal found in the saddlebag, then he tossed her up into the saddle, mounted the grey and led the way down the track away from the castle, whistling.
Sophie urged the bay gelding up alongside. ‘Where has Hunt got to?’
‘He will be back behind us now, covering. Look, there’s the herd of fallow deer.’
Sophie followed his pointing finger and admired the herd, listened as he talked about the park and its history and thought about what it would mean to love this man and how she was going to raise a family with him unless they discovered the truth about his mysterious illnesses and the accidents that had driven him from home.
And then she looked across and saw his face, animated, engrossed, as he talked
about the land and what it meant to him and she knew that duke or not, under threat or not, she was going to carry on falling in love with him and she would stand shoulder to shoulder with him to fight whatever threatened them, and the family they would have.
‘There is a man I could take a thoroughly irrational dislike to with no provocation at all.’ Jared lounged against the panelling of the drawing room and narrowed his eyes at the nearest group who were talking while they waited for dinner to be announced.
‘Who?’ Cal shifted his position so he could look down the room to the object of Hunt’s attention.
‘Mr Beautiful, the big blond.’