Lord Deverill's Heir by Catherine Coulter (best books to read all time .TXT) 📗

asleep. He couldn’t believe it. “Damn,” he said as he turned her face up with his thumb and kissed her mouth. “How long have you been taking advantage of me?” he said into her mouth. She jumped, then grinned. Then, quite suddenly, she was on top of him, her hands around his face, her lips parted, kissing him with a good deal of enthusiasm.

Her hair had come free of its rolls and was a thick curtain on both sides of his face. The smell of her made him wild. He didn’t want to frighten her, but he groaned, and it was deep and hoarse.

She wasn’t frightened. If anything she was more enthusiastic. He wanted to come inside her this very instant, but he was wise enough to let her keep control. He had to be patient; he had to keep on a steady course. He was a physician, for God’s sake, not some randy, ignorant boy. He groaned instead, his hips lifting.

“Ann, it’s going to be a close thing for me. Eighteen years is a very long time to wait to have you.”

She raised her head and looked down into his eyes. “It’s a ridiculously long time,” she said. “It’s too long a time. If you wait for another minute, then I will have to rhapsodize about the lily pads again.” She was laughing even as she jumped to her feet and began unfastening the buttons on her gown. He stared at her. There was no hesitation in her, no fear, only her beautiful face flushed with excitement, with anticipation.

They were both laughing by the time they were on his coat again, naked, in each other’s arms. And when he finally came to her, she welcomed him with a soft moan. And when she cried out, he took her cries into his mouth, and gave himself to her completely.

He believed she was asleep, when she said, “Paul, that is the first time I have ever felt pleasure. It is something I couldn’t have imagined. Will it always be like that with you, with us?”

“If it isn’t, I’ll cut my wrists.”

“I didn’t know—”

He kissed her ear. “No, I never thought you did. Now you do. Forget all the rest of it, Ann. There’s just us now. I will give you pleasure until we both cock up our respective toes and pass to the hereafter.”

“And I gave you pleasure?”

She sounded so uncertain, perhaps even frightened. He kissed the tip of her nose. “You give me any more pleasure and I’ll need to have a doctor.” He yawned.

She bit his shoulder, tasted the warm muskiness of his flesh, and kissed him again. “This pleasure—no, don’t tease me—it’s quite extraordinary. I knew something was going to happen to me but I had no idea that it would shake me to my toes and lift the hair off my head.” He stroked her hair. “There are all sorts of ways to bring you to pleasure, Ann.”

She came up over him, balancing on her elbow, chewing on her bottom lip.

“How many?”

He groaned. “I’ll be a dead man before the year is out. Enough, Ann, you are too sore for us to come together again today. No, don’t go all maidenly on me, it’s true. You are still unused to a man and I have no intention of hurting you. Now, I want you to distract me. No more talk of pleasure. But I want you to know something. It’s something that’s very important. I love you. Only you. It’s always been only you.” He loved her. Only her. “And I love you,” she whispered against his shoulder. She realized she was aching between her legs. But it didn’t hurt. It felt wonderful and strange and she wanted to feel it every moment for the rest of her life. She sighed, kissed his closed mouth.

“Distract me, Ann. I mean it.”

She said, frowning, “Whatever shall we do about Arabella and Justin?”

“That was mighty fast. I expected a smoother, slower transition between passion and the damnable problems of the world. Here I am, just a poor man whose woman has used my man’s body for her pleasure, wrung me out so that I’m now only a husk, and is now unaware of the fact that I still have my hand on her beautiful bottom.”

She moved and he moaned. “Stop that else I’ll never have another intelligent thing to say. No, distract me. I won’t complain again, I swear it. At least for ten minutes. Now, you’re worried about Bella and the earl.”

He knew that he wouldn’t think long about them unless he removed himself from her. As much as he hated it, he pulled away from her, rose, and began to dress. She followed suit. Soon he was helping her fasten the buttons on her gown. He leaned down and kissed her throat. She was damp with her sweat. Her flesh tasted wonderful. “You know, Ann,” he said slowly, thoughtfully, “I believe that their difficulties involve the comte.”

Lady Ann looked startled. “Gervaise? But how could they? I can’t imagine how Gervaise could have anything to do with their problems.”

“I have seen Justin look at him. It is clear to me that he despises him.

I would wager that he would challenge him to a duel if it weren’t against the law. Justin has enough brains to realize that he would have to flee the country were he to kill the comte, and if it came down to a duel, he would most certainly kill him.

“But he wants to. It’s eating at him. Nor does he trust that young man.

Not as far as he can spit. I believe he’s even made inquiries about him in London. But surely it’s too soon for him to have received any answer.

I’ve tried to figure out why and the only thing I can come up with is that Justin is jealous of him.”

“Jealous,” she repeated slowly. She tucked errant wisps of hair back into the smooth coil of hair at her neck. “Jealous? And that