by Heather Boyd
Theodora smiled at his restraint. Now that her first rush of pleasure had passed, she would admire him, appreciate him, tease him and tempt him in ways he couldn’t resist. He seemed most responsive to praise. “You are a devil in bed,” she whispered.
“I was thinking the same about you.” He buried himself deep and then chuckled. “I’ve made a pact with the devil.”
“For good, not evil,” she promised, then used her own body strength to move against him when he remained still. It may be brazen, but time was too short. One day he’d have enough of her, and fall in love with someone else.
Quinn caught her hips tightly as she set her bare feet against his skin, one on his chest, the other over his shoulder in a bid to still her. However, with the additional leverage, she could rotate on him no matter what he attempted. “I’m very good for you,” Theodora promised.
Those few little movements brought a wicked gleam to his eyes. An expression Theodora had grown to love seeing on his face. Everyone enjoyed a good romp between the sheets, whether they admitted to it or not. Thankfully, she had Quinn for now.
“I should have known you couldn’t be passive,” he murmured, his lips curving into a deep smile. “To be honest, I’m glad we’re in bed together again. It would have been hell working beside you if I couldn’t have this too.”
He thrust hard and withdrew, then repeated the pattern as her breath whooshed out of her lungs from the sheer joy of being so well used. Pleasure built as he continued to hammer her body harder than ever. She put her fingers on her clitoris and let his thrusts jolt her fingers against the hard bud of her sex until she was moaning out loud.
Her body was flushed with heat and sweat when he turned her again, so she lay on her side while he was still buried deep. He moved her to the angle he wanted, held her top leg up, her hand trapped between her legs and thrust very slowly.
“Wait for me,” Quinn demanded.
Theodora jerked her hand away from her quim, but it was too late. She lost her control over her arousal and came anyway. She turned her face into the bedding just in time to muffle a scream.
Above her, Quinn stilled and then, by the short, abrupt thrusts, she knew he was about to join her in bliss.
Chapter 20
Quinn lay on his side, watching Theodora sleep. He’d exhausted her, and his lips curled in pleasure that he could. When it came to lovemaking, Theodora was very physical. She liked what he liked, which seemed to be any position he wanted to bend her into. She liked to tease him with bold conversation. They were well matched indeed, and yet it was always Theodora who collapsed first. He’d never known such honesty in a lover. Never taken so much pleasure in a woman’s desire.
Despite their poor beginning, Theodora appeared made for his pleasure.
Quinn studied Theodora’s face in repose. In the light of the new day, she was breathtaking. Pure and yet so very wicked at heart. Gentle and yet fierce. She made every moment together an event, a necessity for his soul. He could hardly believe he’d turned her down once. He wouldn’t ever be so foolish again.
He moved a curl of her dark hair from the pillow and lay it gently across her exposed breast. He grasped another carefully, so as not to wake her, delighting in the texture of the dark strands between his fingers, and added it to the first. She was a strange and fascinating creature. He had no regrets they’d become lovers. He did things to her he’d never have attempted with Adele in the past, which made him reconsider how deeply he’d cared for his former mistress.
To be honest, he’d never actually felt like this before. Every glimpse of Theodora’s body filled him with anticipation. Every conversation with her revealed an odd symmetry of thought. He did not fool himself that she agreed with him on every subject, but what they had discussed was done with enough friendly banter and intelligence to her logic to have him looking forward to their next conversation, and even disagreements…not that they’d had any yet.
She’d become deeply involved in his affairs, his properties and investments, his ambitions to live on his own terms. She made making sense of his father’s affairs feel less overwhelming.
He’d grown so accustomed to sharing everything with her that it seemed disloyal not to turn to her for advice. He considered again whether she might help him solve the puzzle of Mary’s last days. He could explain what he knew of Mary and see if she concluded anything beyond his own thoughts.
“There’s always a sheet to cover me with,” Theodora grumbled sleepily after he added another curl over her breast.
“But then I’d be denied the view of the rest of your delicious body,” he whispered, teasing his fingers over her soft belly until she squirmed. He wished they could remain like this until morning came, but he had a valet who would come to “wake” him in his own room shortly. He had to return there soon.
He stole a kiss, and Theodora lifted her face for more. He obliged, kissing her softly, teasing her awake. Quinn moved over her, propping himself on his arms and knees to lose himself in her delicious scent yet again. It was almost more than he could bear to pull away and not continue exploring their mutual passion. “I must be going. It is almost six.”
She peeked around the room with one eye open and groaned softly. “You woke me up just to tell me you were going? In truth, I didn’t expect you to stay so long.”
Neither had he, but when their last pleasure had ended, he’d wrapped Theodora in his arms and dozed longer than normal. She was very soft and seemed very willing to be held. Something he adored about her. It was also an intimacy Adele had never allowed him to indulge in often, he suddenly remembered. She hadn’t liked him to see her at anything but her best looks, either.
He ran his hand over Theodora’s tangled dark locks fondly. “I dislike slinking off in the dark like a thief,” he murmured as he considered his last relationship. He’d not particularly liked the terms struck between himself and Adele that only allowed him three nights a week in her bed at most. Most often it had been once a week, because she claimed to be committed elsewhere.
Father, of course, had been among her other engagements.
He was glad to be rid of her, in truth.
So far, Theodora had never denied him a moment in her company, although he’d never asked for more beyond their beds. He should like to dance with her one day, though. He was eager to learn what she thought of his friends too.
He dropped his lips to her breast and teased her until the bud pebbled, then he drew the peak deeper into his mouth. He feasted on her lightly until she caught his head and held him there with firm pressure. Theodora had full breasts, ones perfectly shaped for his hands and lips to devour. He could easily spend an hour making love to one if he could bear to leave the rest of her body alone for that long. Quinn drew her firmly against him, cupping her back and then sliding his hand down to her rear. He tilted her hips up until she pressed her quim against his belly, and she gasped softly before grinding her sex harder into him.
There was one thing he absolutely knew about Theodora Dalton—she was always eager for pleasure. She always welcomed him with open arms.
Her fingers tightened and then she tousled his hair. “It seems I must forgive you, since you are waking me with such lovely kisses.”
Reluctantly, he drew back from her breast. He had arranged to meet a friend this morning in pursuit of information about Mary’s final days. He couldn’t be late. “Kisses that must stop, if I’m to return to my room unnoticed.”
“Sadly true. I was just beginning to feel warm all over.” She pulled a face, not a pout but an expression of acceptance. Adele would have complained about him abandoning her and sulked, denying him her bed until he’d bought her a pretty trinket to make her smile once more.
He kissed Theodora’s lips quickly. Theodora was a sensible woman. It was unfortunate that they could not play together in bed all day and get away without it being noticed. “Hold that thought until tonight, or if you dare, you may finish this morning without me, and we will st
art anew later.”
She smiled slowly. “If you are certain you must go, I suppose I have no choice but to please myself.”
“I am sorry I cannot stay.”
She peeked beneath the sheets toward his erection. “I know.”
He smiled and rolled out of bed. As was often the case, he felt very energetic after being with Theodora. Quinn found his banyan, slipped it on, and spent a moment gazing upon a very tousled Theodora. Her hands moved beneath the sheet, sliding down her body. She widened her legs a little and raised her knees.
Vixen! She was going to take him up on his suggestion while he was still in the room! What he wouldn’t give to stay and watch her make love to herself.
“Until later,” he whispered.
He hurried out, giving his erection a stern warning to subside. If he stayed, he might be tempted to stay with Theodora forever. An idea that was slowly beginning to become appealing.
He was inside his chamber less than five minutes before Rodmell arrived, arms full of riding clothes. He was out to the stables fifteen minutes later.
Once Quinn had regained his appreciation of firm land beneath him, and lost his sea legs, he preferred to be out in the fresh morning air each day on his favorite horse, Locket, riding with old friends in Hyde Park. He pushed Locket to a trot to reach the prearranged meeting place as quickly as possible.
Lord Deacon was already waiting on a restless mount, but had unexpected company in the Duke of Calder at his side. He galloped to join them. He was late, and apologized for making Lord Deacon wait and then turned toward Lord Calder, a man a little older than him but quite a prankster. “Good morning, Calder. What brings you out of your bed at this ungodly hour?”
“Good news. I’ve found a bride,” Calder said, beaming from ear to ear.
Quinn blinked, and then pressed his hand to his chest. “You? Married? The world is about to come to an end.”
“That’s what I said,” Deacon added glumly.
“We’ll be married by the end of the month.”
“Well then. Congratulations.” Quinn maneuvered his horse so he could shake Calder’s hand. Calder would have chosen very well. A woman with a large dowry and impeccable connections were needed when an estate had fallen on hard times, as his had. “I’ll tell my secretary to accept the invitation immediately once it arrives.”
“Good, for I should like the pair of you to stand up with me.”
Quinn’s horse pranced. “It would be an honor. Now, do tell me about your bride. Who is she?”
“You don’t need to know yet.”
Deacon scowled. “There’s the rub. He won’t say who she is. Means to surprise us all, he says.”
“What?”
Deacon slumped in his saddle. “I ask you, how is a man supposed to pick a wife if there is every chance he pursues the hand of a woman who’s already off the marriage market and won’t say a word about it?”
“You would never suit my lady, Deacon, and I am most definitely keeping her away from the likes of you, Templeton,” Calder promised, then laughed.
“Afraid she’ll throw you over for an inferior title?” Quinn joked.
“Or perhaps I am merely afraid she’ll take a look at my friends and become hysterical and run.” Calder quirked one haughty brow and then laughed. “I am not giving society a chance to gossip about my choice of bride until the very hour we’re to marry.”
Quinn exchanged a long glance with Deacon, but saw his confusion too easily at Calder’s plan. It was highly unusual, and not at all like Calder to be secretive. “You’re not marrying the baker’s daughter, the one on Bond Street that you always flirt with, are you?”
“She’s a fine wench,” Deacon murmured, with a touch of reverence in his voice. “Her sugared buns bring me back to her shop again and again,” he promised.
“No, not her.” Calder laughed heartily at that. “My lips are sealed until the ceremony. You’ll have to wait like everyone else to find out her identity.”
Quinn shook his head. Calder was the most outspoken of his circle of friends. It would be a miracle if he didn’t give away his own secret before the appointed hour. “This ought to be very interesting,” Quinn conceded.
“I think so too.” Calder’s grin widened. “Now all we need do is see the two of you similarly well matched.”
Quinn pulled a face. The only woman he wanted in his life was Theodora, and he had her already. “Perhaps we should concentrate on finding Lord Deacon a wife first.”
“That’s a good idea. He’s become rather maudlin about everyone else getting wed before him.” Calder turned his mount about. “By the way, Templeton, I’m sorry to have missed the dinner for your sister. I don’t recall receiving an invitation in the mail.”
“Invitations were not sent, in the end,” Quinn confessed. “It seemed imprudent timing, given my father’s illness.”
Calder expression softened. “Ghastly business with your father.”
Quinn stiffened. So far, his friends had been kind and not spoken of Father and Adele Blakely being lovers. He did not want to discuss the matter, either. He looked away rather than respond.
“She would understand the need to delay for a happier occasion,” Deacon promised.
“Possibly,” Quinn murmured.
Deacon tapped his boot with his riding crop suddenly, forcing Quinn to spin about. The man stared at him, one eyebrow rising in question. He smiled, and then his expression turned sly. “She always liked Calder, though I don’t see why she should have. Nothing to recommend him but his lofty title.”
“She was a good sport, wasn’t she?” Calder said, but then his grin returned. “Although you might be right about her taste. What she saw in Deacon and that other fellow I’ll never understand.”
“Her choice of friends was occasionally questionable. She should never have befriended me, I know,” Deacon moaned.
Mary had always been a staunch supporter of Lord Deacon, always suggesting Deacon would love this or that entertainment. Inviting him home to the family estate in Essex for a few weeks every summer until her death. Quinn had not thought Mary wrong about Deacon, but he’d not noticed she’d favored anyone else in that way. “What other fellow are you talking about?”
Calder blinked. “You know, the one she was a bit smitten with.”
Quinn’s heart sped up a little. “No, I don’t think so. Do you, Deacon?”
“Name was…” Deacon scratched his head, then shrugged. “Damned if I can remember.”
Quinn clenched his hands around the reins, his pulse racing. “Try very hard to remember. It could be important.”
Deacon’s lips drew into a thin line. “What does it matter?”
“It may seem unimportant to you, but I still want to know who my sister was speaking with back then.”
“Romeo,” Calder exclaimed suddenly. “I remember teasing Mary that we would all have to call her Juliet one day.”
Quinn recalled no one by that name. “Romeo?”
“Romeo…” Calder looked at Deacon. “Come on, man. Surely you remember him better than I? He had a house near yours, didn’t he? He wore a wide-brimmed hat with a ribbon wrapped around and little feathers at the front. We used to laugh about it being rather silly when he strutted off to his employment, as we were only just returning home from the night before’s revels.”
“What did he do?”
“I can’t recall that I ever knew,” Calder said, shaking his head. “We used to make up so much nonsense to tease your sister with that I don’t think I’d trust my memory now.”
Deacon closed his eyes briefly, and then he sighed. “Roman, not Romeo. Roman Gently. A clerk. Are we going to ride?”
“Indeed we are,” Quinn promised, but he was racking his brain trying to place Roman Gently in his sister’s life. Mary had no business being involved with a lowly clerk. He was fairly certain his father and grandfather had never employed anyone by that name in London, either. He would do well to ask Theodora if sh
e recalled reading the name anywhere in his father’s papers.
Chapter 21
“Are you finished for the day?” Theodora glanced at the ornate clock on the mantel, and then at the late Lord Templeton’s two secretaries, who were on the point of leaving the room. Mr. Kemp and Mr. Sever were sticklers for punctuality and routine, which Theodora grudgingly approved of, even if they were leaving too early in her opinion.
Mr. Kemp, the elder of the pair, nodded. “Our workday ended at three o’clock. It is quarter past the hour now.”
“Oh, I see.” Theodora exchanged a glance with her mother, who had kept them all quiet company from her spot by the window all day, leaving only long enough for Soot to be walked when she needed to go out. “Very well. Well, good night, Mr. Kemp and Mr. Sever.”
She reached for another file and flipped open the cover to read the first sheet. It was a contract to purchase a property in St. James and, according to the note, no income was derived from the tenant for the last six months. She frowned at it, wondering who the late earl had liked enough to allow them to live there rent-free. The late Lord Templeton was hardly known for his charity.
Sever turned back at the door. “You’re not done?”
“No, and not for several hours, I expect.” Theodora copied the particulars of the property into a small notebook, ready to pass along to Quinn when he had time to investigate the anomaly. She’d begun keeping records of her own as soon as she’d uncovered a dozen odd things among the late earl’s papers. “I will see you both in the morning.”
There was a lengthy silence after their departure before Mama spoke. “I think you just put two grown men to shame. It is not a good idea to alienate secretaries who would replace you.”
“I know, but I learned early that to work meant I must toil harder than any man. Besides, the late Lord Templeton’s affairs are rather complicated. If I kept to their hours, I might never understand before my hair was streaked with gray.”
Her mother stood and drew close. “Just don’t stare at that chicken scratching pretending to be handwriting for too long. You’ve barely glanced out the window today.”