“Then what are you waiting for…,” she slowly blinked her thick, black lashes, “to ravish me?”
Chapter Seven
Prue was decidedly, wonderfully tipsy, and exquisitely aroused by her husband’s frank words. “You seem speechless, my lord,” she murmured wickedly. “Have I truly shocked a man of your worldly experience?”
“You teasing minx, another side of you that is most interesting.”
Tapping her chin, she said, “I also enjoy riding and archery. Even embroidery I find particularly soothing.”
He let out a slow, deep breath. “I know of your love for riding. Whenever I visited the country, I usually stared from my bedroom window and watched you ride across the lawns. You did not seem shy when you rode…but so wonderfully free and daring.”
She gasped. “My early morning rides I thought no one knew of?”
He lightly stroked a finger over her right ankle. “Yes, I particularly enjoyed watching the ones you did in breeches, astride.”
It was as if his fingertip singed her flesh through her silk stockings. “You never stopped me,” she murmured. “Your mother saw me once when she visited with your sisters. The dowager countess was displeased with my conduct.”
“Did that make you stop?”
“No.”
Admiration and something indefinable lit in his eyes, warming her.
“You seemed happy. I liked seeing you like that.”
“Why?” she whispered.
“I enjoy your laughter. And I loathed it the instant the smile dropped from your face whenever you saw me. I seemed to suck away at your joy, so I stayed in town as much as possible and only visited the estate when necessary. I will admit that at times I was pulled back there simply to see you.”
Since their dreadful wedding night, she had been so uncertain about everything; she would blush or stutter in his presence. How silly they both had been. “I also like gardening.”
“I know of it as well.”
Her husband had been keenly watching her over the last three years. And what did she know of him? Little to nothing. She tried to dismiss the growing ache that swelled through her body and squeezed her heart. “What do you enjoy, Oscar?”
A lock of his dark hair fell forward onto his forehead. Prue leaned forward quite aware of how the motion pushed the skirt of her dress higher up to her knees. She tenderly brushed aside that lock of hair. “Will you tell me?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, as if he felt uncomfortable with revealing a bit of himself. “There is not much to tell, countess. I enjoy painting very much.”
“I never knew it. I would love to see your work sometime.”
He gave a brief nod and a smile.
Prue sighed drowsily. “I believe it is time I start sharing your bed.”
Her husband made a rough sound in his throat. “Hold your tongue and ideas, countess.”
“Why should I?” The carriage lurched, and Prue pitched forward. A dark thrill coursed through her veins, and her heart fluttered wildly in her breast. She could have halted her momentum, but she aided it, so she ended up in her husband’s lap with her knees bracketing his outer thighs. “What providence,” she said, laughing softly, brushing a kiss right along the underside of his jaw.
Prue wiggled a little closer so that she was seated closer to his erection. Her husband gripped her hips, and a harsh breath shuddered from him. She slipped her hands around his neck, hugging him close to her body. Prue could feel his heartbeat thudding against her own. Her husband was just as affected by their proximity. Still, she was glad she had consumed four glasses of champagne at the pleasure gardens. Otherwise, without this liquid courage rushing through her veins, she might not have been so daring.
The possessive manner in which that brash woman had stared at Oscar had also roused Prue’s own ire and jealous heart. She lightly nipped his chin. “I am not very countess-like, am I?”
He huffed out a strained laugh. “I cannot credit myself, but I am quite enjoying you like this.”
“And did you enjoy seeing your Clarice tonight?”
“She is not mine, and unequivocally no, I did not like seeing her.”