Chapter Twenty-Six

L ord Tobias Moran

Birdie’s soft skin was supple beneath my thumb. I hadn’t expected such passion to spark between us. My time with Ash was always full of lust, and Birdie had proven that she was just as sensual as my friend. I wanted to remain where we were and not have to get up. My body was very relaxed, and having her weight on my chest was somewhat comforting. If things were different, I would take Ash up on his challenge and simply ask her to marry me. But she had made herself clear, saying she never wanted to marry again.

I sifted my fingers into the thickness of her hair, finding a pin and pulling at it. She had been a surprise and a frustration since walking through the door and applying for the secretary position.

“I believe the water is getting cold.” She cuddled close to me, her nipples velvety against my chest.

If the snow continued, I would have more opportunities to bed her and Ash. The thought of him and our last conversation before he all but pushed me off the bed came back to the forefront of my mind. I couldn’t tell him why I didn’t want to fall in love, because it would reveal too much about my past, a past he didn’t know about. A past he could never know about.

I knew his feelings about the aristocracy, for they matched my own. In the class he was born into, he was seldom treated with kid gloves by the gentlemen he encountered while investigating crimes they committed. My own reasons were due to my uncle’s cold nature. My grandfather had been a strict disciplinarian, but he was a fair man. I often wondered how Nigel turned out so much different from his father. “I believe it is.”

Her stomach growled and she released a soft giggle, goosebumps showing on her skin. “I haven’t eaten since this morning, hence one of the reasons why I interrupted you earlier.”

“I should apologize for overreacting.” The water had turned tepid at best. “Would you like to get out?”

“An apology isn’t necessary.” She sat upright and gripped the side of the tub, a mischievous grin playing across her lovely mouth. I dipped my head and kissed her smiling lips, contentment washing over me. Elizabeth hadn’t been a romantic person. She was the kind of woman I thought I wanted. Apparently, we weren’t right for each other and she was smart enough to know it.

“Be careful. The floor is wet.” I watched her climb out of the tub, all long limbs and luscious curves. She had a delectable body, one made for bedding.

“It looks like there is more water on the floor than in the tub and I’m afraid your robe is soaked.” Frowning, she reached over to grab one of the towels that were hooked on the wall. She wrapped it around her chest, blocking her breasts from view.

“That is an unfortunate fall-out after such a pleasant endeavor.” I swallowed my disappointment and pulled the stopper before following suit. She handed the other towel to me, strands of hair wet around her face and neck.

“It was rather pleasant, wasn’t it?” Birdie looked around, clasping the towel to her neck. “This room is very handsome.”

“I like it.” I had made a point to renovate the bathing room with white tiles and a checkered mosaic floor like the one in my youth. The ducal manor house in London had been outfitted with the latest amenities, and I was spoiled by my upbringing. Thus another reason I kept my origins to myself. While my uncle Nigel was the worst of the lot, there were good people who were part of the gentry as well. Many in my adopted neighborhood didn’t see it that way, Ash being one of them, and I never tried to dissuade him otherwise.

“After you dress, I will feed you.” I indicated that she exit ahead of me. She left wet footsteps in her wake, my own feet slipping on the tiled floor.

“I think my skirt might still be wet.” Lip caught between her teeth, she glanced over at Ash, who was seated at the desk, a pen in his hand. “Are you writing?” she asked.

“I am.” He returned her smile, his gaze skimming down her body with overt lust. “You look very fetching.”

She blushed and glanced over her shoulder at me. “Thank you. As do you.”

He laughed at her quip.

“Have you seen my skirt?” Birdie glanced around, paused and then went to the chair where her skirt was crumpled on the floor. She picked it up and looked at the sodden skirt. “It is indeed still wet.”

“Allow me.” Ash stood and removed my other robe, unabashed to be naked. He strode to her side and held it out to her. Cheeks red, she slipped her arms inside, the towel falling to the floor. The belt tight, she picked up the hem in her hand. He rested his hands on his hips and surveyed the room. “I believe my shirt is somewhere around here. Although I am a bit warm, so I think I will stay like this for a while.”

I rolled my eyes at him and turned to Birdie, the towel still wrapped around my waist. “Don’t mind him. If he could live without clothes, he would. The man is a damn menace to society.”

Ash narrowed his eyes in reply.

“We do have a woman present. She doesn’t want to look at your hairy arse.” I was aware of Birdie like I had never been aware of a woman before. There was something about her which made me wish to protect her, even though she didn’t need any man’s protection.

“It isn’t hairy, is it?” Ash twisted his torso and tried to look at his bum.

Birdie began to giggle, followed by a soft snort. With her damp hair curling around her face and the soft glow on her cheeks, she never looked more stunning. “No, it is smooth as a ripe apple.”

“Thank you, love.” Despite his earlier statement, Ash disappeared into my room.

I spoke low enough for only Birdie to hear. “You must let us know if our bantering becomes too much. Even if Frank was the most liberal of husbands, I doubt he pranced around naked in front of you.”

She shook her head, the blush deepening. “I can honestly say no. This is a bit of a shock, but not an unpleasant one. I, well, forgive my boldness, but you and Ash are very pleasing to look at. If you were paunchy and snaggle-toothed, I might have some objections.”

“So you are shallow by your own admission?” I tucked my thumb into the knot at my waist as I passed by the window. Snow continued to fall in lazy swirls. Contentment settled over me, my body sated by our play in the bedroom and in the tub.

She raked my chest with appreciation, licking her lips provocatively. “It would seem to be the case. Or perhaps I am a connoisseur of beauty in all its forms.”

“Or you are simply shallow. You can admit it.” With one finger, I traced a path across her lower lip. I liked matching wits with her. Coupled with her pleasing frame, she would make the perfect wife for me. Except she told me in no uncertain terms that she had no intention of marrying again. Disappointment made my stomach turn.

“Fine, I will admit it. I am shallow.” She moved closer to me, her chin lifted.

“We all are. Some of us just hate to admit it.” I kissed her parted lips, unable to stop bestowing kisses on her. The bathtub would be forever a fond memory. I would never look at taking a bath the same. “I have some food in the icebox.”

Ash returned with his trousers and shirt on but had left off his waistcoat. “Excellent. I am starving. What do you have?”

“Your mother gave me some mince pies, if you recall.” If not for Connie, I would starve. I kept telling myself to hire a housekeeper to come in more often than once a week. Except I lived an unconventional lifestyle, and I didn’t wish for prying eyes. Once I married, that would no longer be the case. I would walk the straight and narrow path of normalcy. My shoulders drooped simply thinking about it.

Birdie went to the icebox and pulled out the wrapped package I had haphazardly shoved inside. I’d had more important things to do at the time. Admiring the curve of her bottom in my robe reminded me of said things. She placed the pies on the small table that sat in the corner, a bowl of apples centered on the scarred surface. While the interior of the building and all the plumbing was new, I kept certain pieces for sentimental reasons, the table being one of them. “Should I use these plates?” she asked, referring the ones on top of the squat icebox.

“Yes, that will be fine.” I shifted my gaze to Ash, who had resumed his seat at the desk, but he wasn’t writing.

He stared at me with a smug smile. “We don’t usually use plates. Just napkins.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “That’s not true.”

“When in Rome.” Amusement lit Birdie’s eyes as she slipped into one of the dining chairs. Lifting a golden pastry, she took a bite, euphoria enhancing her expressive face.

“You should put something on,” Ash said, his heated gaze raking down my chest. “If I can’t walk around the way God intended, then you can’t either.”

“I should.” I stepped into my room and rushed into the wardrobe, unsure why I was hurrying. Well, I did know. I didn’t wish to miss out on anything. Outside of Ash’s family, I led a solitary life. Partly by choice, and partly by necessity. Having two people I enjoyed in my house was a rare occurrence. Would Mrs. Engel be an equally engaging companion?

I pushed my legs into my trousers and snatched my shirt from the floor. A second spent apart was a second too long.

Ash had refilled our glasses and was sitting next to Birdie. She laughed at something he said, her hair in disarray, and several long strands ran down the back of my brocade navy robe. She looked rather fetching in the piece and I would forever think of her when I wore it.

I sat down across from Ash and to her left.

Drink in hand, he stared at me. “I neglected to ask. How was your bath?”

Since Birdie had just taken a bite, I assumed he was speaking to me. I darted my gaze to her. The blush she wore deepened in hue. “Stop being a prat. You’re embarrassing Birdie.”

His smile dimmed and he clasped her free hand. “I am sorry. I am simply harassing Moran. It is how we talk. My mother says we are unusually cruel to each other. As you witnessed, that isn’t necessarily true.”

She swallowed her bite and took a sip of her wine. “I realize that and I am very entertained by it. I am also very hungry, so forgive me if I don’t participate in the conversation.”

“Fair enough.” Ash fisted an apple. “Do you have a knife? We must keep Birdie fed. She will need all of her energy for things to come.”

I got up and grabbed a paring knife. A stack of napkins was at the end of the table and I began to cut the apple, laying the slices on the cloth. My own stomach rumbled and I bit into the apple, the sweetness coating my tongue. “You should take your own advice.”

The mantel clock chimed the hour, reminding me of the lateness. While sleep beckoned, I didn’t want the night to end. Another look outside showed the snow still falling. The tension in my belly relaxed and I ate another bite of apple.

Ash began to regale us with the plot of the story he was writing. Birdie laughed at his impression of her in the doorway, the book a comedy of errors. He wasn’t deviating far from the truth.

Sitting with the two of them, contentment washed over me. I would fall asleep with both of them in my bed and wake up to them beside me. We would have tomorrow as well, or at least the morning. Once the roads cleared, our tryst would end and I would go back to courting Mrs. Engel.

Until then, I would bask in the moment with two of my favorite people.