She scooped her dress up from the floor. The memory of Townsend tossing it away, the intensity and passion with which he’d made love to her, replayed in her mind. Desire clenched in her stomach. Turning slightly away from him, she struggled to pull her simple gown over her head without losing the coverage of his cloak.
Townsend returned to the door and fiddled with the latch. “There, that should hold. But just in case—” He dragged a chair from the table and wedged it under the iron mechanism. “We wouldn’t want any more interruptions this evening.”
From the corner of her eye, Leela tracked Townsend as he edged around the table, setting the food out, before crossing to the sofa and reaching for his shirt. Giving Leela his back and, consequently, her privacy, he slipped his white linen shirt over his head.
She felt a rush of gratitude for his consideration, and a pang of regret that he was no longer shirtless.
Chapter Four
Hunt sat across from Venus consuming boiled beef and cabbage served with beer.
Ravenous, he cut into his meat and tossed a generous piece into his mouth, chewing appreciatively. The mediocrity of the meal did nothing to curb his appetite.
Swallowing, he reached for his beer. “As it turns out, I’m famished, too.”
“You did work up quite the appetite,” she allowed with a mischievous smile. She bit enthusiastically into the meat. Her lovely bronze skin was flushed, and that spectacular hair cascaded about her shoulders in glorious untamed waves. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“I must keep my strength up for our next go at it.” Hunt was eager to bed her again. Next time he would pace himself, taking time to explore every part of that nimble body. She was tall for a woman, not at all fragile, and pleasingly curved in all of the places a man hopes to discover when he beds a woman. Her toned arms and legs suggested she regularly engaged in physical activity. “I would not want my performance to disappoint.”
Her dark eyes twinkled. “If the first encounter was any indication, you needn’t worry.”
Completely enchanted, he soaked in the sight of her. She glanced up from her meal and caught him watching her. Her bold brows shifted upward. “Yes?”
“I realize this is somewhat overdue, but do you suppose I could have the honor of knowing your name?”
She laughed, her eyes sparkling. Seeing the effect humor had on that lovely face made Hunt feel like he’d won a prize. “Forgive me. It is just that I cannot fathom that I have lain with a man who does not know my name.”
Hunt knew exactly how she felt. Everything about this encounter was out of the ordinary and most certainly out of sequence. He never bedded a woman without both partners having a clear understanding of expectations. And he’d definitely never swived a woman after knowing her less than an hour. He always sated his appetites in an orderly manner. But with this woman, everything felt different. He couldn’t think rationally in her presence.
“My name is Leela.”
“Leela.” He rolled the name over on his tongue, enjoying the sound of it. “I quite like your name.” He held out his tankard. “And I am Elliot, as you know.”
She clinked her beer against his. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Elliot.”
“I assure you that the pleasure is all mine.”
“It most definitely was not, but I shan’t argue the point.”
He’d never met such a forthright woman. He appreciated her candor.
“This is all so unexpected,” she continued with a shake of her head, as if she couldn’t quite believe they were here together. “You’ve no reason to believe me, but I do not make a habit of bedding strangers. I’ve been with no man other than my late husband.”
He believed her. He admired the smooth planes of her expressive face, the defined cut of her cheekbones. A woman with her handsome looks would have no trouble finding a suitable second husband. “Will you wed again?”
“No. I have other plans for my future.”
“Such as?”
“I intend to chart my own course, and that requires never being beholden to any man again. What of you? Are you married?” She flushed, alarm shadowing her face. “I didn’t even think to ask.”
“I am not wed,” he gently reassured her. “At least not yet.”
“But there is a bride on the horizon?”
He nodded. “However, we are not betrothed as of yet.” He saw no reason not to be truthful. Leela had made it clear that the last thing she sought was a husband. And she was the one to insist they limit their intimate encounter to this one evening.
“I intend to be faithful once I am wed.” He wanted her to know he wasn’t a rake who casually bedded women. Despite what had just occurred between them—and would hopefully occur repeatedly before the night was over.
“That is commendable.” She studied him. “I wonder what sort of woman would you take to wife?”
“She is a very agreeable girl. Quite shy but clever, I think.”
“You think?”
“We are not particularly well acquainted.” It amazed him how easily the conversation flowed between him and a woman he’d met barely an hour ago. He’d never spoken so candidly to any woman. “I have not spent a great deal of time with the young lady, but I am confident she’ll make a suitable wife and mother.”
“Your passion for your future bride is not exactly overwhelming.”
“It’s not as though it’s a love match. I respect her, which is far more important. She seems nice enough. And I don’t expect we’ll be in each other’s pockets. Besides, I am not a man given to passion.”
“The last thirty minutes would suggest otherwise.”
He grinned. “It would, wouldn’t it?” He’d never acted so impulsively. Yet he was having the time of his life. “It’s quite unusual, I assure you. I am not normally ruled by carnal impulses.”
“Should I be flattered that you got carried away this one time?”
“You do drive me mad with lust,” he said happily.
“Do you not want a little passion with your wife? Especially considering that you intend to remain faithful to her.”
He grimaced and thought of his brother, a man whose entire short life had been driven by impulse. History suggested Phillip’s unrestrained nature wasn’t entirely his fault. The Townsends were a hotheaded brood. It was in their blood. Fortunately, the defective gene skipped a generation. For almost a century, the decorous generations had saved the dukedom from the destructive urges of the dukes who preceded them.
Phillip’s temperament had followed the family tradition. Hunt was determined that his would not. He would never be a wastrel like his brother.
He set his tankard down. “Passion makes people do foolish things. I prefer a more considered approach. This decision will impact the rest of our lives.” He sat back, crossing his large arms over his chest. “Enough about me. I am far more interested to learn more about you.”
“What would you like to know?”
Everything. “Where did you get that knife?”
“It was a gift. It once belonged to my great-grandmother and to her mother before that.”