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Olivia moaned as he teased one tight nipple. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Max’s hands stroked down her sides and over the flare of her hips. His fingers intertwined with hers as he gazed down into her eyes. “What if tonight was our last night? What if tomorrow could change everything? Would you let me love you tonight? Would you let me show you how much I love you?”

“What do you mean, our last night?” Olivia whispered.

But Max didn’t answer. Instead, he dipped his head to capture her lips in a kiss. His hands continued to smooth over her skin. Teasing the dip in her back with his fingertips before skating them over her derriere. Then they traveled up her spine one vertebrae at a time before delving his fingers into her hair. All the while, he kissed her slowly, reverently. She savored every nip and brush of his lips, every thrust of his tongue as they melded together, breath mingling; he demanded her surrender.Let me love you.She was helpless to do anything but succumb.

She smoothed her hands across his chest, his heartbeat strong under her palms. Then he lay her down on the mattress, covering her body with his, and teased her with a slide of his rock-hard erection against her mound. She wiggled against him with a whimper. “Max.” She scratched her frustration across his back with her nails. Finally, his hand slid between them, and he fingered her aching clit.

“You are so wet, darling. What were you doing before I came in? Did you have your fingers here?” He ran one finger along her seam and then inside her with a shallow thrust that wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy.

She nodded her head frantically. Then she pressed kisses along the shell of his ear. “I was thinking about you, and I had to touch myself.”

Max groaned, and the rumble in his chest vibrated against her. “You are a seductress, is what you are.” He lifted her hips, and this time he didn’t tease but instead thrust into her in a slow slide.

She gasped at the exquisite sensation of being stretched and filled by him. She arched back with a cry of his name. Max placed scorching open-mouthed kisses across the top of her breasts as he tormented her by stroking in and out slowly, rubbing her clit with each roll of his hips. He drugged her with his kisses, and his sweet words murmured against her ear. “Livvy, you are my treasure. My heart has always belonged to you.”

She ran her hands through his hair over and over. Her body consumed by the pleasure of his sweet seduction. Her orgasm built and built to a frantic roar.

“That’s it, my sweet girl, come apart for me,” he murmured against her lips.

Helpless to deny him, Olivia’s orgasm burst forth in a million bright pieces. Max pulled out of her with a roar as his release rolled through him, and he came across her stomach. He leaned his forehead against hers, and chest heaving, they both tried to catch their breath.

“Olivia—”

She put one finger across his lips. “Please, my heart can’t take any more. For now, can you just hold me?”

He nodded and kissed the tip of her nose. Then he climbed off the bed to cross to the washbasin. When he returned, he used a damp cloth to clean off her stomach. Tossing it aside, he finally slid back in next to her and gathered her in his arms. With a tug of the covers, they were wrapped cozily together. She pressed her face into his chest, breathing in the smell of sweat and sex. She sighed. So much for rational decisions involving her heart.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Max stared downat Olivia’s face in the soft early morning light. He studied the slope of her nose and the soft flutter of her dark eyelashes. He ran a featherlight touch of his finger along her delicate jaw. Today would be hard for her. He wished he could save her from the pain and what would surely be anger. But he had decided it would be selfish to keep Henry’s secret from her. She deserved to know. No matter what that meant for their future. That is if he could convince her that they should have one. He rolled out of bed, trying not to jostle her awake. He needed more time, more nights of passion, more days of flirting and conversation and kissing. He would even take her ice-skating again.Damn it, Henry, a whole year in hiding, and now you want to reach out to your lover?

Poor Julien. Max pulled on his robe. No, he wouldn’t feel sorry for Julien. He was going to be reunited with his love. Once he stopped being angry, he would get to spend a lifetime with the man he thought was dead. Max took one last look at the sleeping Olivia. She moved onto her side and pulled the pillow he’d been laying on to her chest. Max smiled.Until later, my love.Then he slipped out the door.

*

By ten o’clockin the morning, the three of them were mounted on their horses and ready to ride out of the warm stables into the crisp, bright morning. Max turned to Olivia and Julien. “Ready?”

They both nodded. Olivia looked pretty as a picture in her forest-green riding habit and matching box hat. A tall pheasant feather waved cheerily as she rode ahead of him out of the barn. He again felt guilty that he was leading them to such a rude shock this morning. He sucked in a deep breath of fresh air and tried to enjoy the beautiful surroundings as they rode. The rolling farmland that surrounded Belhaven Hall would be green in just a few months. In the spring, the sheep would be grazing, and the fields would be covered in bluebells. They made it to the road and headed east down the lane. They had made the right decision by riding instead of taking the carriage. This mixture of melting snow and sucking mud would have been hell for the wooden wheels to roll over. Max guided his horse around a dangerous rut.

They arrived at the cottage and pulled to a stop in front of the barn. Max helped Olivia down. He gave into impulse and bent to give her a swift kiss. She raised a hand to his cheek with a smile, and they walked the horses inside the barn to let them munch on hay. As they walked out, Julien glanced around the garden. “Where is this tree you spoke of?”

“Oh, let’s go inside first. We can look at it after we assess the house.” Max strode ahead to the front door. He lifted the latch and entered the cottage. In an attempt to make as much noise as possible, he stomped the snow off his boots. Then he coughed loudly.

The other two came in behind him, and Julien shut the door against the cold. Olivia sniffed the air. “Why does it smell like there is a fire burning?” She hurried into the front room. Max gestured to Julien to follow her.

Henry stood next to the fireplace. He tugged on the lapels of his jacket and smoothed back his hair.

“Henry?” Olivia’s voice rang out in the empty room.

“Yes, it’s me.” Henry moved forward. “I can explain.”

Julien stood frozen next to Max, his mouth agape. Then his nostrils flared, and his hands clenched into fists. He strode across the room and shoved Henry squarely in the chest. Then he hit him on the shoulder and kept hitting against his chest repeatedly.

Henry stumbled backward. Holding up his hands, he pleaded, “Julien, please let me explain.”

But Julien was beyond reason. He kept shoving at Henry. Max stepped forward to intervene, but then Julien grabbed hold of the lapels of Henry’s jacket and, with one last push, pinned him up against the far wall. He kissed Henry, hard and desperate. Henry gripped Julien’s face, and the two kissed like the only way to breathe was to be coupled mouth to mouth.


Tags: Karla Kratovil Historical