Chapter 29

"Would you like a nightcap?" Thomas gazed at Catherine as they hovered at the top of the staircase in their home. "It has been quite a night."

She hesitated. He could see she was tempted. The ride home had been thick with such sensual tension that it was a wonder they hadn't started ripping at each other's clothes in the carriage. They had talked little. Thomas had been content with just watching her intently. He knew that she was feeling the same way as him.

"Perhaps just one," she demurred, smiling at him almost shyly. "Just to top off the night, as you say."

He led her to his study. It was dark with just one candle burning and a small fire in the hearth. He stoked the fire and lit another candle, watching her covertly as she took a seat, gazing around.

"You know, I do not think I have ever seen such a sight as you this evening," he said in a gentle voice as he poured the brandy, handing a glass to her. "You took my breath away."

"Did I?" Catherine smiled at him sweetly. "Did Lady Isabella take your breath away as well?"

Thomas let out a bark of laughter. "You are truly jealous, are you not?"

Catherine glared at him. "I am not jealous," she huffed. "I just do not appreciate you flirting with other ladies in a public place. It is humiliating…"

"You are jealous," he insisted in a teasing voice. "I already told you that I am not having an affair with the lady."

Catherine flushed. Desperately, she looked around the room, as if seeking an escape. He could tell she didn't like being teased about her jealousy. He was about to do it again, just to watch her squirm, when she suddenly put her hands on the table, looking him straight in the eye.

"I have an idea," she chirped. "Let us play a game of cards." She paused, her eyes holding a challenge.

Thomas suppressed his surprise. He hadn't been expecting her to say that.

"I suppose so," he said slowly before taking a sip of brandy. "I know how good you are at cards. I will have to watch myself. Which game?"

Catherine laughed. "I propose a new game," she said in a slightly husky voice. "A game with a twist."

Thomas crossed his legs, gazing at her. "Please, do go on. I am all ears."

"Very well." She took a deep breath. "I propose that every time someone loses, they must do what the winner commands." Her eyes were intense as she gazed at him. "Without argument."

Thomas felt a shiver of shocked delight. She was back to being her bold, adventurous self again. The woman he had first met at the gambling hell, dressed as a boy, risking everything. She seemed relaxed, almost playful, like a cat gently toying with its prey. The defensiveness that she had been wearing like a suit of armor ever since they got married seemed to have disappeared entirely.

He had never wanted her more than at this moment.

"I agree to your terms," he said in a grave voice. "But you must realize the ramifications. You might not always be the winner, Catherine."

She shot him a smoldering look. "I accept the risk."

He took another sip of brandy before placing the tumbler down. He got up, retrieving a deck of cards from behind his desk, shuffling them without looking at her. He dealt the cards on the low table between them. They sat in silence as they looked at their hands before the game began.

They slipped into a game of piquet, jibing at one another easily. Thomas refilled their glasses. He noticed that Catherine was swirling hers, a challenging look in her eyes. He was already so aroused that it was uncomfortable. It was as if she had decided to throw caution to the wind and simply see where this night led.

What a woman. I have never met another woman remotely like her before.

"I win," he announced, throwing his cards down triumphantly on the table. "Have a look."

She narrowed her eyes, looking at his cards. Then she sighed, sitting back, draining her brandy.

"So you did," she said, crossing her legs and putting a hand over the back of the chair. She looked at him. "Go on, then. What do you want to ask me?"

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. His eyes dropped to her hands. "I am asking you to take off your gloves."

Her eyes widened. "My gloves? But why on earth would you ask me to do that?"

He smiled, leaning over the table and looking her in the eye. "I want to make sure that you do not have a card concealed there. I am only ensuring that we play a fair game, Duchess."

"Are you accusing me of cheating?" Her voice was outraged.

He laughed again. "I would never do such a thing. I would never infer that you cannot win a game through your skill alone." He shrugged. "You did say I could ask you anything without argument."

Catherine raised her chin. "I am no cheater, Sir." She slowly peeled off her gloves and then tossed them behind her shoulders, looking at him defiantly. "There. Did you see a card fall?"

He suppressed a smile. "No." He cleared his throat, gazing at her. "Shall we keep playing?"

She nodded. "We shall."

They started playing again. He kept watching her gloveless hands on the cards, wanting to take one, to lick her fingers slowly, sucking on them one by one until she was begging for mercy…

"I win," she declared, her eyes flashing in triumph, and she threw her cards on the table.

Thomas shook himself, checking her cards. He sighed in a dramatic way. He was starting to really enjoy this game.

"What do you want to ask me?" He gazed at her, feeling a little dazed.

"I ask you to take off your jacket," she said, looking up at him with an innocent expression on her face. "Just to make sure that you are not hiding a card in your pocket. If you please."

Thomas grinned, his heart hammering harder as he peeled off his jacket, tossing it behind him just as she had done with her gloves. She stood up, walked to the jacket and checked the pockets before she sat down again, seemingly satisfied.

"Is that better?" Her eyes were full of mirth. "It is so hot in here, after all."

"Much better," he agreed, smirking at her. "I might loosen my cravat as well." He paused. "Just because it is so hot, of course."

She watched intently as he loosened his cravat. He realized suddenly that she enjoyed looking at him as much as he enjoyed looking at her.

"You watched me that day at the lake," he said, his voice husky. "Did you not?"

"No," she demurred, shaking her head. "I did not."

"You did," he insisted, gazing at her.

Slowly, she nodded. "All right, I did. I watched you swimming at the lake. I watched you walk out of the water." A pause. "I could not take my eyes off you."

Thomas felt a thrill run down his spine. He had sensed her watching him that day, but of course, she would never have admitted it then. Now, however, something seemed to have shifted between them.

She didn't want to deny what was between them any longer. In fact, she wanted to explore it. This game told him that, loud and clear.

They kept playing. Catherine was good, skillful at the game, but he deliberately let her win the next few hands. He lost his cravat and socks, tossing them to the wind. His shirt was the next thing to come off. He felt another thrill as he watched her watching him as he slowly peeled it off, throwing it behind him. He was dressed in only his britches now.

"Very good," she said in a husky voice, her eyes lingering on his chest. "You are a quick learner."

He chuckled. Their eyes met then slid away. The game commenced again. But this time, Thomas was determined to win. When he triumphantly laid his cards down, fixing her with a triumphant look, she visibly gulped.

The time for play was over. Now, the serious business was about to commence.

"What do you want to ask me?" she asked in a breathless voice.

He leaned back in his chair, so she could see the whole expanse of his naked torso, smiling at her lazily.

"I want to ask you to come and sit on my lap," he said slowly.

Her eyes widened. She gulped again. "You want me to sit on your lap?"

He nodded. "Yes." A pause. "Please."

She looked flustered for a moment. He held his breath. Was she going to refuse and back away again? Had she changed her mind?

But then, after what seemed like an eternity, she stood up and approached him. He could barely breathe as he watched her standing there, looking down at him with an enigmatic look on her face.

He held out his hand to her. She sighed then took it. He drew her down, so she was perched on his lap. He saw a vein twitch in her right temple.

For a long moment, he did nothing except breathe in the sweet scent of her, clasping her closely, relishing the contact. Then he ran his fingers down the length of her back which was exposed, thanks to her gown. She shuddered, arching her back and closing her eyes.

Slowly, he snaked his arms around her, pulling her closer still. Boldly he started caressing her waist—circular strokes above the fabric of her gown. She gasped again, turning limp and falling against him.

His hands drifted higher, finding her breasts, and one slipped inside her bodice. The first touch was electric as he gloried in the fullness of her breast, squeezing and caressing it before focusing on her erect nipple, flicking it. The result was instantaneous. She shivered violently, moaning loudly.

His other hand snaked up to her head, drawing it around so that they were face to face. As he kept caressing her breast, feeling his arousal heighten, he stared at her face, marveling in the beauty of her high cheekbones, the shape of her nose, her stunning eyes. Her long, dark eyelashes were golden at the tips, as if they had been dipped in paint. He pulled her head closer again.

"Do you like this?" he whispered.

Mutely, she nodded.

Thomas felt another thrill as he watched her lips part, her bottom lip jutting. It was one of the most sensual things he had ever seen in his life.

"Your lips are divine," he whispered, bringing his hand around to caress them slowly, pulling on her bottom lip before slipping a finger into her mouth. "As luscious as you."

In response, she drew his finger deeper into her mouth, suckling on it. He started, closing his eyes as tiny shocks coursed through his body. He was literally tingling from head to toe.

He swore under his breath, removing his finger and cupping her head in his hand again, drawing that delectable mouth to his. He had not forgotten the taste of those lips. It was as if his body had been lying in hibernation, waiting to taste them again.

Slowly, deliberately, he explored every inch of them, tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth softly, pushing his tongue into her mouth, settling into the kiss as if he were sinking into warm water.

For many minutes, he was happy to stay here, just kissing her, his mind a blessed blank. The only thing that mattered was this moment. He could have kept kissing her forever.

She was trembling now, shivering, gasping as she drew breath, wrapping her hands around his head, drawing him closer still. He kept flicking her nipple, squeezing her breast, the caress becoming stronger and more frantic. He was as hard as a rock. At any moment, he was certain he would burst.

"I want you," he whispered fiercely, between kisses. "I want you so bad that I can taste it."

"I want you," she whispered back.

The naked need on her face told him all that he needed to know, more than her words ever could. She was clearly as aroused as he was. They were finally at the point of no return.

For a moment, he hesitated. If they did this—if they finally consummated the desire between them—there would be consequences. He knew it plainly. The connection between them was so strong, so powerful, that he knew it would be impossible to go back to how things were. To keep the distance he had wanted—no, had needed—between them.

He had been fighting it for so long. Was he finally ready to step over that precipice and claim her as his own, once and for all?