He took her. That was the only way to describe it. He pounded hard into her, his groans and grunts increasing as she began to flutter with orgasm. The flutters turned to waves, the waves to clenching, overpowering pleasure. She keened against his skin, scraping her teeth over him like she could mark him as hers, and he swore as he came deep inside of her.
For a few moments they just stood there, foreheads pressed together, bodies entangled, their panting breaths slowing and matching.
“Too hard?” he asked at last.
She drew back. “God, no. That was remarkable.”
He sighed as if relieved as well as satiated and then set her down so she could rest her feet on the ground again. They stared at each other. This was the point where she would normally gather her clothing and pad off to her own bedroom and its lonely bed.
But she didn’t want to do that tonight. So much had been shared between them, she wasn’t ready to let go.
“You know,” she said softly. “It is possible we missed your sister dancing at some point.”
He arched a brow. “You mean that she might have taken a turn around the dancefloor with ten gentlemen rather than nine?”
She nodded. “I was not always watching, you know. I assume you weren’t either. So it might have been ten or eleven. And our agreement was that the person with the closest guess without going over would win. If we miscounted, that would mean I was the loser.”
There was a tension to his face now. Almost an anticipation. “So you would owe me the boon.”
“I wouldn’t want to accidentally cheat my way out of paying the terms.”
“Which are to sleep in my bed,” he said.
“Yes. If you want me there.”
He pulled the covers back with a flourish and smiled. “I do, Your Grace. Won’t you join me?”
She shivered as she slipped into the sheets and he joined her. When he settled, she rolled against his side, placing her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and held her there. It was warm and safe, or at least it felt that way in this charged moment.
But she still feared that if she let herself, she might never want to let him go. And the pure terror of that notion still ruined the perfect peace of whatever they were building.
She pushed all that away. It was just a night in a bed, nothing more. She wouldn’t let it mean more than that…even if she desperately wanted to.
Chapter 24
“Abigail?”
Abigail jumped, her cheeks heating as she realized Ophelia was calling her name as she stared off into space. Her mind had wandered, as it had been wont to do these past few days. Where it took her? To Nathan.
It had been three days since the ball, and something had changed between them. Things were lighter when they spoke or touched or smiled at each other. And she had been sleeping in his bed each night, no longer running to hide in her own chamber to escape him.
But now Ophelia stared at her from the chair across from hers, brow wrinkled, and she was clearly expecting a response.
“I’m so sorry. I am woolgathering, it seems. Leagues away.”
“It seems a more common experience for you lately,” Ophelia said with a knowing smile. “I look and there you are, staring out a window or reading a book upside down.”
“You are teasing me,” Abigail said with a laugh.
“Am I?” Ophelia sat back and gave her a long look. “If I didn’t know you better, I would say you are mooning.”
“I’m not mooning!” Abigail burst out. But she felt very seen by these accusations. Too seen for comfort. “If I’m distracted, I’m just thinking of my garden and our plans for later this summer.”
Ophelia arched a brow. “I see. Well, then I suppose I can do nothing but believe that. However, I wonder then, what do you think my brother is mooning about? He is suffering from the same affliction, and I do not think he cares as much about your garden as you do.”
Abigail pursed her lips. Ophelia was treading in dangerous waters. “You would have to speak to him on that topic, I suppose. I could not speak to the inner workings of Nathan’s mind.”
Ophelia got up with a bark of laughter. “Well, perhaps I shall. I can ask him about why he’s always got a secret little smile on his face now. Or perhaps I’ll inquire about his new habit of playing faro with us every night after supper when I know he was never a fan of the game until you spoke of enjoying it.”
Abigail blinked. Was that true?
“Or…” Ophelia laughed. “Perhaps I will finally get an answer from him about why he insisted I limit the number of partners I danced with at the ball a few nights ago.”
Abigail sat up straighter. “Wait…what are you talking about?”
Ophelia’s smile widened. “It was the oddest thing. Halfway through the night, he rushed over to me and begged me not to dance with more than nine partners in total. He refused to tell me why, but seemed willing to trade anything in order to get his way. One can only imagine it had something to do with you, because everything he does seems related to you now.”
Abigail continued to stare at her sister-in-law, but her ears had begun to ring. Nathan had interfered in the outcome of their wager…in order to lose? Why would he do that? Unless he wished to tell her the story of the past…
But to what end? Was he trying to manipulate her? Trick her somehow?
She got up, hands shaking with all the questions. “I…I must excuse myself.”
Ophelia’s smile fell. “You have gone pale as paper. Did I say something wrong? I was only joking.”
“No.” Abigail caught her hands. “You did nothing wrong. I just…I must go speak to your brother about something.”
She pivoted then, hurrying from the room with Ophelia’s concerned voice calling out for her. She ignored it as she made her way toward Nathan’s study. A few weeks ago, she might have simply ignored this issue. She would have seen it as proof he was behaving duplicitously and built an even higher wall between them.
But because of the last few days and nights, she found she couldn’t dismiss him so easily. She wanted to know the truth. Even if it hurt.
She knocked and heard papers rustling. Nathan’s tone was distracted as he called out, “Enter” from within.
She smoothed her dress and then did just that. He was focused on the ledger before him, the quill in his hand poised over the sheet before him. His jacket was draped across the chair behind him, his sleeves were rolled to the elbow. Her breath caught at the sight of him.
He glanced at her, and his expression lit up. “Well, this is a welcome surprise,” he said, rising. “I thought you and Ophelia were having tea and then you were going to talk about the book you finished this morning.”
She pursed her lips and tugged the door closed behind her. She stared at him, trying to find the words she wanted to say. Knowing that once she said them that everything would shift between them. Because it was inevitable. She’d known it for a long time.
“What is it?” he asked, his face growing concerned as he came around the desk toward her. “Abigail?”
“Why did you manipulate the outcome of our wager at the ball?” she asked in a rush of words.