Chapter 16

Lenore nodded, not trusting her voice, but Rhys's lips curved into the most relieved, wicked smile she'd ever seen.

"Was that when I kissed you, in the wine cellar?"

"Yes," she admitted. "And every time before that, too. Ever since that very first time we met, in Lady Chessington's garden."

His jaw dropped open and she relished his look of shock as he finally understood what she was admitting.

"You love me? Right now? And you've been in love with me for almost an entire year?" His tone was an amusing mixture of triumph and irritation. "Bloody hell, woman! Why didn't you say something?"

She sent him a laughing, scolding glance. "When did I have the chance? You avoided me at almost every single event. You barely even deigned to talk to me."

"Because I was in love with you," he said, his voice rough with frustration. "And I didn't want to admit it, even to myself. It was self-preservation. I told myself it was ridiculous to fall in love with someone I'd only just met. I was convinced a woman as beautiful and as clever as you would have nothing to do with me. That if I left you alone, you'd eventually marry some stuffy old duke and I'd just go and drink myself into an alcoholic stupor and die of a broken heart like all the best tragic heroes."

Lenore let out a peal of laughter. Her own heart was racing so fast she could hardly breathe.

Rhys reached out and caught her face between his palms, his eyes wide.

"You really love me?"

"I'm afraid so. The Davies-Montgomery curse has struck again."

"Lenore Montgomery, will you marry me?"

Lenore returned his incredulous smile with one of her own. "Rhys Davies, I'd be honored. And I really don't care if you don't have a title, or any money. We'll manage."

Rhys actually looked a little guilty. "Ah. About that."

Her heart dropped. Was he about to admit to a mountain of debt? A slew of illegitimate children? A terrible addiction to gambling or laudanum?

Whatever it was, they would deal with it. Together.

"I'm not entirely penniless. I'm actually quite rich," he said. "You remember all that wine in the cellar? That's mine."

Lenore gaped at him. "But that must have cost a fortune! How—?"

His grin somehow managed to be both shy and cocky at the same time. "Turns out this poor scrambled brain of mine is quite good at investing. I've made some decent returns on the stock exchange, and that wine is one of my longer-term projects. Most of those bottles will increase steadily over the next five to ten years. Far less volatile than stocks and shares."

Lenore stared at him. "I don't know what to say. I always assumed you were a penniless second son."

Rhys's eyes bored into hers. "Say you'll still marry me, even if I have a fortune. Prove you weren't lying when you said you didn't care about a man's financial position as long as he loved you and you loved him."

Lenore let out an exasperated laugh. "Oh, you are impossible! Yes, I'll marry you, you rogue." She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He stilled, just for a moment, as if still afraid to trust his good fortune, then he returned the pressure with thrilling enthusiasm.

Lenore groaned as his tongue darted into her mouth, tasting her with an urgency that made her blood sing in her veins. She wound her arms around his neck and tugged him back with her onto the grass, loving the urgent sound he made deep in his chest.

"You're not just offering to marry me because I've been compromised, are you?" she murmured with a laugh, pressing feverish kisses along his jaw, his neck.

"Nobody except our families knows we're here," he panted between kisses. "So obviously not."

"Pity," Lenore sighed. "Because I'm not at all averse to being compromised, you know. In fact, I think I'd quite like it."

He stopped kissing her and rose up on his forearms to study her. His eyes were almost black with desire. "Are you sure?"

Lenore nodded. She'd never been more certain of anything in her life. She wanted him with a desperation that was a fire in her veins. And she trusted him not to love her and leave her.

"I've been dreaming of you kissing me, touching me, for months," she breathed. "Every time you looked at me from across a crowded room, I wanted to know what it would be like to have you make love with me."

"Wicked girl," he said softly. "But you deserve silk sheets and a feather mattress, not grass and—"

Lenore arched her neck and kissed him again. "I deserve you," she murmured. "All of you. Right now. I don't want to wait."

He shook his head, but his lips quirked in that teasing way she adored. "Oh, love. Your wish is my command."

He lifted his body off hers and she frowned in confusion, only to smile as he caught her hand and pulled her away from the shore and into the privacy of the trees.

"Just in case they decide to come and rescue us, after all."

As soon as they were safely hidden, he caught her in his arms and pulled her against his body for a kiss that set her heart racing all over again. The mossy grass was soft beneath her as he lowered her to the ground, his hands roving over her body as if he was searching for a flag hidden on her person.

Lenore gasped as his lips slid down her throat and over her collarbone, then lower, over the curves of her breasts. The slight stubble of his jaw raised goosebumps on her sensitive skin and her belly clenched in excitement.

His tongue swirled over her nipple a moment before he took it in his mouth, and she grasped his hair as his wicked tongue laved and circled, teasing it into a tight little bud.

"Rhys!"

"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured against her skin, his hand cupping her other breast, so she arched up into his touch like a cat. "I've wanted you from the very first moment I saw you, and I haven't stopped for a single day since."

His mouth nipped and teased.

She'd suspected making love would be nice, but she'd never dreamed it would feel like this. Hot and cold, like a fever, a clawing hunger in her belly and a pulsing throb between her legs.

"Please," she panted, not entirely sure what she was asking for, but desperate for more, all the same.

His low chuckle made her shiver. "Patience, my sweet. I don't want to hurt you. We're not going to rush."

He sat up and tugged off his jacket, then his cravat, and tossed them aside, and she ran her hands greedily over his shoulders, then stroked his chest, loving the twitch of his muscles beneath her palms.

"Shirt off," she demanded, and he laughingly obliged.

His chest was even more impressive than his brother's, all muscled curves and intriguing ridges thanks to his boxing regimen, and Lenore couldn't resist pressing her lips to the flat plane of his pectoral. She flicked her own tongue playfully across his tawny male nipple, reasoning that whatever he'd done to her would feel equally nice to him, and was rewarded with a deep groan and another ravenous kiss.

He untied the lacing at the back of her dress with deft fingers, then undid her stays, and his reverent gaze roved over her body as she wriggled out of the fabric.

Lenore's cheeks heated in embarrassment to be left in just her sheer shift, but the hot look in his eyes as he looked down at her made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

"One day I'm going to take you swimming in this, just so I can see you looking like a mermaid," he breathed, his hands skimming over her ribs and down the outside of her thighs.

She arched restlessly. "And I'm going to make you work for me in the butterfly house without your shirt, just so I can ogle you in the most shameless manner."

His brows quirked. "How scandalous."

He moved down her body, his palms skimming her breasts, then shaping the curve of her waist. Lenore opened her legs, desperate for him to touch her there, and his deft fingers slid up under the hem of her shift against the smooth skin of her thighs.

His eyes were almost black as he looked at her in wonder. "When you were up on my shoulders, all I could think about was pressing my mouth right here."

He bent his head and kissed her on the inside of her leg, just above her knee, then higher.

Lenore grabbed his hair to try to drag him even closer, and felt the warm puff of his laughing exhale against her thigh.

"I wanted to taste you so badly," he groaned, his breath fanning her most intimate place.

He kissed her again, even higher, and she squirmed at the delicious sensation. She'd seen such scandalous acts depicted in erotic engravings, but the reality was even better than the theory. Her eyes rolled back in her head as his fingers slid against her folds, teasing and circling, and when he leaned forward and added his tongue, she arched into his touch, trying to find some relief from the coiling tension inside her.

He made a hum of pleasure against her and the vibration made her shudder, and then his finger slid inside her, and she gasped at the strange sensation.

"All right?" he breathed.

She nodded. "Yes. It's just . . . different, that's all."

And then his hand began to move, slowly, sliding in and out of her, and the heat and the tension increased even more.

"Oh! That's very nice."

He rose up and took her lips again, and his tongue delved into her mouth in the same wicked, insistent rhythm as his finger. Every inch of her body felt hot and restless, and she held her breath, tensing, moving against him, reaching for something just out of reach.

"Let go, Lenore. That's it. Come for me," Rhys growled against her neck, and the pleasure burst over her like a great wave. She tilted back her head and groaned in astonishment as pulses of blissful relief suffused her whole body, happiness exploding like fireworks behind her closed eyelids.

"Rhys!"

He chuckled against her temple at her astonishment, and she relaxed against the grass, entirely spent. She'd never been so relaxed, so boneless in her life.

So that was the mysterious ‘crisis' she'd read about in books. How glorious.

A satisfied smile spread across her face, and she opened her eyes to find Rhys gazing down at her, a pleased, tender expression on his face.

"I had no idea," she breathed. "It was like running and jumping off a waterfall, and then splashing into the most glorious pool of happiness." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you sure you're not secretly a pink river dolphin in disguise?"

"Just a man." Rhys pressed a kiss to her flushed cheek, then another to her lips. "Who happens to love doing that to you. Do you think you can bear any more?"

Lenore widened her eyes. She knew he hadn't found his own pleasure yet, and to her surprise her body tingled with renewed excitement at the thought of him joining his body with hers.

"I want you, Rhys Davies. Body and soul. Make me yours."

Her words seemed to release some pent-up spring inside him, because he groaned and pressed a passionate kiss to her lips. "God, I really want to be gentle, to make this good for you, but I've wanted you for so long. I don't think I can wait."

She stroked her fingers through his hair. "Then don't. Show me what to do."

"Let me see you. All of you. Please." His voice was hoarse, and wonderfully desperate, and her heart sang at his indisputable desire.

With fumbling hands she helped him pull her shift up and over her head and she lay back, unashamed to lie before him naked. The cool breeze peaked her already-sensitive nipples and the dappled sunlight made shifting patterns across her stomach and chest.

He swallowed, then rolled to his back and discarded his breeches, and she sucked in a breath as she finally saw him naked.

He was beautiful, an animal in its prime, as sleek and as lean as a panther. His skin was tawny, and his limbs all flowed in muscled lines. His cock stood to attention against his flat belly, and when he wrapped his hand around it and gave it a squeeze, Lenore reached out, desperate to touch him herself.

She'd never seen an aroused man before, and she was intrigued by the difference between his body and her own. Men were such strange creatures.

He let her fingers close around him, and the contrast between velvet-soft skin and iron-hard muscle was fascinating.

"That's enough of that," he half groaned, half laughed, when she gave him a little stroke. "Or this will be over far too soon."

He settled himself over her, taking most of his weight on his elbows on either side of her head, and the sensation of his big body against hers, his ridged belly and strong thighs pressing her down into the earth, made her breathless with excitement.

She widened her legs to let him in, but when his cock nudged against her entrance he paused. "Still sure? We can wait until we're wed, if you like."

Lenore laughed. It was clear he was desperate to continue, and the fact that he'd deny himself, even to the point of pain, just to reassure her of his honorable intentions, was all the evidence she needed that he was a good man.

Luckily for him, she was a very bad woman, and now she had him here, there was no chance she'd let him go without finishing what he'd started.

"You can't stop now," she said, wriggling her hips so they both groaned at the delicious friction. "That's like setting off on an expedition and giving up a few miles from the end. I want the whole adventure."

He let out a breathless laugh. "Whatever the lady wants."

He rocked forward, entering her slowly, then pulled back, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. She tilted her hips, instinctively seeking a better angle, and the next time he slid in a little further.

There was no pain, just a slight stretch, and soon he was seated to the hilt inside her.

"So good," he groaned, sounding as if he was barely holding on to his control. "Hold on."

Lenore wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him as he started to move, slowly at first, then with ever-increasing speed. Her body clenched around him, and the friction of him inside her was even better than that of his fingers.

She stroked her hands along his sides, over the ridges of his ribs, then down to the smooth mounds of his backside, and he groaned against her shoulder when she gave his arse a cheeky squeeze, just as he'd done to her at the boat shed.

He quickened his pace, hitting a spot inside her that made her teeter on the edge of that wonderful drop again, and then she fell, arching her back and crying out as another surge of pleasure racked her body.

Her convulsions must have finished him off, because with a deep groan he tensed within her, and his whole body pulsed with his release. He groaned her name as he came, loud enough to be heard right across the island, and she smiled up at the canopy of trees above her head, entirely satisfied.

He collapsed on top of her, squashing her for a brief moment, then seemed to come to his senses and rolled to her side, withdrawing from her body.

Lenore felt wonderful, sated and tingling and utterly replete. She'd always suspected being ravished by Rhys would be delightful, but this had exceeded her expectations.

"Well, I'm definitely compromised now," she wheezed.

Rhys let out a weary chuckle and rolled onto his back to stare at the sky. "Bloody Hell, woman. Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?"

"Since the first moment you saw me," Lenore chuckled. "You said."

"It bears repeating. I didn't even think you were real, at first. I thought maybe I'd dreamed you up. My perfect woman. But then you spoke, and told me your name, and I started being an idiot."

"It's only taken you a year to realize it," she smiled. "And I did everything I could to show you I was interested. I wore the most beautiful dresses, encouraged a score of men fall in love with me, just to spur you into competing."

Rhys let out a heartfelt groan. "I told you. Scrambled brain. You're going to have to do most of the thinking."

Her turned his head to look at her. "Where do you want to get married? Here? Or back in London? I don't care which."

"Here. I always thought the little church in the village was pretty, and I've never wanted a big public society wedding."

"Done," he said. "I wish we didn't have to wait the three weeks required to have the banns read, but it can't be helped. I think we Davies have used up our share of special licenses for a decade. The Archbishop of Canterbury must be sick of us."

"Will we live at Trellech?" Lenore asked.

His brows rose. "Would you like that? I thought you'd want to keep traveling the world."

"I'd like to travel a bit, but only with you. And I'd love to live at Trellech. Then, I could easily work in the butterfly house at Newstead."

"In that case, yes. Although I do have quite a nice town house in London, just off Grosvenor Square."

Lenore sighed in happiness. "I have a confession to make."

His lips quirked in amusement. "Oh really? Do tell."

"I asked the Aunts to contrive ways for us to be alone together. This entire treasure hunt was a way for me to spend time with you to see if I could convince you to love me."

Rhys blew a lock of his hair off his forehead and laughed. "I needed no convincing. And, well, I have a confession to make too. I asked my siblings to take every opportunity to push us together. Morgan was kind enough to lock us in the boat shed, and even kinder to leave us here without any oars. I think I owe him a drink."

Lenore gasped. "We're as bad as each other," she giggled. "I knew you were dastardly, Davies."

Rhys rolled onto his side and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "We're perfect for one another," he grinned. "Now, get dressed, in case someone decides we've been her long enough and decides to come and get us."

"Please say we can do this again before the wedding."

"Oh, we will definitely do this again before the wedding. We Davies are excellent at sneaking around. I'll show you all the ways to get into Trellech without being seen. As nice as this was, I can't wait to make love to you in my bed. I want you naked on my sheets, exactly as I've imagined."

His eyes sparkled. "Now can I buy you dresses?"

Lenore bit her lip and pretended to consider. "Well, I suppose this does count as intimate acquaintance. I just had my hands on your arse, Davies."

He shook his head at her cheek. "You have a wicked tongue, Lenore Montgomery. And the next time we're together, I'm going to put it to good use."

"I can't wait."