Desire was still rampaging like a firestorm through her blood in tandem with an ache between her thighs. “And suppose I do want my first time—”
He shot her a quelling look that silenced her completely. “Fine,” she snapped. Angry now, she forced her fingers to do up her buttons and stuffed her shirt tail back into her denims. “I’m ready to go back.”
“I’m not. Give me a few minutes.”
That snuffed her pique. Concern filled her. “Are you okay?”
“No, but I will be as soon as my body calms down enough to get in the saddle. It’s a little worked up at the moment.”
“Oh.”
This time when he turned, he wore a smile and she met it with a shy one of her own. “I’m a little worked up myself. We need to be near a bed the next time we do this.”
He laughed. “Are you trying to kill me? No. Besides, your first time should be on your wedding night with your husband.”
“I’m not having either, so your point is moot.”
“So you say.”
“So I know.” He could be your husband. She pushed that aside.
On the ride back to the hotel, although Kent’s passion had subsided somewhat, just glancing over at her riding beside him made him want to find that bed she’d referenced and spend the rest of his life giving her pleasure. As it stood, he was going to have to do some self-pleasuring if he planned to get any sleep tonight because his body was still straining for release. He blew out a breath. He supposed were he to make another woman his wife, the memory of these private moments with Portia would fade with time, but more than likely he’d take the feel of her soft skin and the sounds she’d made in response to his loving to his grave. He wanted her like a man dying in the desert craved water. It was easy to see that she wanted him, too, but was it enough for her to let go of her stance on remaining unmarried? He needed an answer because she was the only woman he wanted as his wife.
Dusk was rolling in when they reached the hotel. After bedding down their mounts, they left the stable and made the walk to the doors. “Feeling better about Jakes?” he asked.
She nodded. “Much better. In fact, I haven’t given him or his mother a moment’s thought. Thank you for the novel cure.”
“You’re welcome.” He didn’t want her to leave him, and by the way she looked up at him, she appeared to be struggling, too. “You go on in. I want to check in with Matt. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Kent.”
“Night, Duchess.”
Before going to her room, Portia searched out Eddy and found her in the kitchen taking inventory. “Do you ever rest?”
Eddy turned. “Pot. Kettle.”
Knowing her aunt was referring to Portia’s well-known work ethic, she dropped her eyes and grinned.
Eyes shining with amusement, Eddy asked, “So, did you enjoy your ride? You certainly look as though you did.”
Portia froze and wondered what had given her away, but was too embarrassed to ask.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of as long as you’re careful. Do you know what I mean?”
Her eyes were very serious now, and Portia nodded. “Babies.”
“Yes. As far as I know, this is your first time being swept away by someone and passion can override good sense very easily.”
She thought back on telling Kent about maybe wanting her first time to be on a bed of pine needles and knew Eddy was right. She had been swept away and definitely hadn’t been thinking clearly. It was good he was so honorable. She had a question for her aunt, but having never asked it before, more embarrassment burned her cheeks. “Um. Is there someplace in town where I can purchase—some precautions?” She was smart enough to know that if Kent didn’t provide any, she needed to make sure she had her own.
“Talk to your sister.”
Portia’s jaw dropped.
Eddy chuckled softly. “She and I had the same conversation a few years ago. Regan’s always blazed her own path, so when she asked, I told her what she needed to know rather than judge her, refuse, and send her out into the world unprotected. I realized it was safer that way.”
Portia understood and was glad her aunt hadn’t judged her either.