Page 65 of Only Scandal Will Do

She wrapped her arm around him and sighed. “I could sleep like this for another two days.”

“But there are other things you could be doing in this bed, my love.”

Awareness pulsed with the intimate nature of their pose. The image his words conjured made her whole body heat. And tingle in anticipation. Forcing her whirling senses to relax, she lay back and took measure of her husband’s mischievous smile.

“Oh, I concur with that, my dear,” she said in her sweetest--and most seductive--tone.

“You must have read my mind.” She rose on an arm.

His eyebrows shot up. “Indeed. And perhaps you would enjoy some company while you engage in your activity, my sweet?”

Kat pretended to ponder the matter then nodded in agreement. “I would enjoy company

for such an activity, Duncan, although,” she stared boldly at him, “I am as content to engage in it alone if necessary.”

“Indeed, my lady.” He seemed to bite back a laugh. “I have also done so on occasion, but find, with two it is eminently more pleasurable. Or more, although more than two is too much for a bed. Three or more necessitates the use of a sofa or a table, I would guess.”

“Or perhaps a blanket,” she ventured, deepening her voice. “If one is outside and so inclined to indulge, don’t you think, my love?” Her husband gulped, and she smiled. “But what is wrong, my dear?” she asked, pretending wide-eyed innocence. “Of course we are speaking of eating luncheon, are we not? I find I am quite starved, having had no food for almost three days.”

Duncan threw back his head and laughed. “I wondered if you would tumble to my conceit, my love. Yes, I too speak of luncheon, which I ordered Margery to bring at one o’clock.

She said if you weren’t awake by then she had a guaranteed way to rouse you.”

Kat shot a rueful glance at the closed drapes. “She does indeed, Duncan. But that will hardly be necessary now.” She lay down and stroked the mat of golden hair that showed through his open shirt. His body felt warm and vital, as if he simply itched to leap into action, like a coiled spring. She heard a chuckle and looked up.

Captured by his brown-eyed gaze, she held her breath as his mouth came closer. His lips brushed hers. And again. Lingered the third time. He raised his head. “Are you quite sure all you spoke of was luncheon, Katarina?”

Desire flamed in his eyes, searing her with its intensity. Acutely aware that every inch of her body pressed against him, she sucked in a breath. The hard object prodding between her legs was not his knee. He traced a path down the side of her neck with his mouth, nudged aside the lacy fabric at the night rail’s opening and trailed kisses onto the swell of her breast. A more exquisite feeling than those soft lips against her skin, she could not remember. Like the kiss of a rose petal wrapped in dew. Fever and chills warred wherever his lips touched and she stretched against him, feeling his arousal press against her closed thighs.

Delicious heat rose in her body, as her husband stirred embers deep inside. He tugged on the gown’s drawstring, releasing her breast from its gauzy prison, then lipped her aching nipple, which sent new flares of passion straight to her core. As he flicked his tongue over the sensitive peak, she moaned and squirmed. Of their own accord, her legs parted in invitation.

“So you are hungry, little one?” Duncan’s rough tone sounded like a cannon in the still

room. Sensitive to every sound and touch, she could only nod as she gazed into his eyes, which were luminous in the room’s half-light. Once she’d dreaded this moment; now she could scarcely wait for him to fill her, to satisfy the yearning to be possessed, and possessor. She felt his hand straying down her thigh, raking the gown’s fabric upward.

“I have waited so long for this moment, Katarina,” he crooned, and his hot breath in her ear set her trembling, as need for him intensified. He stole down again, and this time let his fingers wander through the wiry curls, parted them and her. Gently, he urged one finger inside her, and she gasped at the strange feeling of them so intimately joined. He withdrew and she whimpered, unwilling to lose that connection, only to feel stinging pain as he slid two fingers in to stretch her wider.

Moaning, she writhed with mounting tension. Moisture where he stroked and fondled her stoked a fire that threatened to burn out of control.

“Duncan.” His name came out a throaty growl. “What are you going to do?” If he didn’t do something soon, she might combust where she lay.

“I’m going to savor my first course, sweet.” His voice matched hers, husky and low. “By the time we reach dessert, I don’t think either of us will have strength to move.” He trailed his tongue upward to her mouth, slid it into the welcoming warmth. She lay transfixed, doubly joined with him, wanting to remember this moment and the next ones with crystal clarity. She cupped his face and pulled him onto her, feeling every inch of him along her body.

Bombarded by these exciting, unfamiliar sensations, she didn’t think anything strange when he stiffened oddly over her, but when he disengaged his mouth from hers, she looked up, puzzled as he scowled toward the door.

“Damn!”

Seconds later the door flew open and Margery bustled in with a huge serving platter covered with various dishes. Kat squeaked and Duncan scrambled to cover himself. Margery paid them no mind, put the platter down on a nearby table, then strode to the window and jerked the drapes aside. Afternoon sunlight flooded the room, which elicited a groan from Kat as she dove under the blanket.

“Serves you right, my lady,” the maid said, “lying abed so--”

Margery’s piercing scream sounded shrilly, even beneath the heavy covers.

She poked her head out and glared at her maid. “Serves you right, Margery, for not

knocking.”

The maid stared, mouth and eyes open in horror. “But, my lord,” Margery said, wringing her hands, “you bade me bring lunch at one o’clock. You said Lady Dalbury needed to eat.” Apparently realizing the degree of their dishabille, Margery whirled around and presented them with her ample backside. “I beg pardon, my lord, but you did--”