Chapter 25

Philip froze, his feet solid in the ground as he faced Grace.

This was a part of himself he kept hidden, even from her, but everything was out in the open now.

His eyes raked over her. She was completely sodden, her hair damp and stuck to her cheeks and neck. The riding habit she wore stuck to her too in all the right places. It made his lower gut stir, wanting her as he seemed to always want her.

Behind her, she had dragged in muddy water. The sight of it angered him so much that he turned away, unable to say anything more.

“Why am I here?” she asked, forcing a scoffing laugh. “I do live here, Philip. We are married.”

“This is my room in the house.”

“It sounds like you were destroying it.”

“It’s my prerogative if I wish to do so.” He didn’t mean to sound so defensive or angry, but it just exploded out of him.

He had not forgotten the scandal sheet that morning, as much as he had attempted to do so. It had somehow seeped under his skin to the point he wasn’t sure which part upset him more. Was it the fact that one of the scandal sheet writers was clearly targeting Grace? Or that she was always, always in those pages?

“Philip, please,” Grace called to him.

He walked to the edge of the room and grabbed a towel, mopping the sweat from his brow and face before he turned back toward her.

She seemed to gasp at something, her eyes traveling down and back up him again. The mere sight of her looking at him in such a way was his undoing. He tossed the towel over his shoulder and marched back toward her.

In one swift motion he wrapped his hand around her damp waist and pulled her toward him. Their kiss was heated, full of the anger he had been able to contain that morning. To his relief, she kissed him back with equal feeling, her hands gripping his chest, exploring him then reaching for his shoulders.

He was imagining taking her against the wall of his sports room and forgetting that scandal sheet and replacing all thoughts with their passion instead. He could imagine the way she would cry out his name, perhaps splay her fingers across the racks on the wall as he entered her from behind.

“What is it?” she whispered, pulling back from their kiss. “Why are you so angry?”

“I didn’t say I was,” he murmured, trying to kiss her again though she avoided him, pulling back her head though her hands still gripped to his shoulders in the most tempting way.

“You can’t forget that scandal sheet, can you?”

He stiffened, no longer trying to capture her lips.

“Can you?” he asked eventually.

“I used to be able to,” she murmured. “Philip, the scandal sheet writers don’t like me. They never have. I’m not their idea of a lady.”

Bloody ridiculous.

A protective feeling swelled up inside of him. He wished to shout from the rooftops of London town that it didn’t matter if she was not the ton’s idea of a lady. She was a lady and deserved more respect than she was getting.

The overwhelming power of the feeling startled him.

He backed up from her, releasing her and turning to face the punching bag again, though he didn’t hit it yet. He wiped his hands on the towel instead, deep in thought.

I vowed to myself never to get in so deep with a woman. I will not repeat the lives of my mother and father.

He purposefully avoided looking at Grace as the thought burned in the back of his mind.

“Can’t you ignore them?” Grace pleaded. She seemed to know he was avoiding looking at her. For she walked around the bag and purposefully put herself in his eyeline again. “I do.”

“How can you?” he hissed. “When they say such things. How does it not haunt you?”

“Why does it haunt you? Why does a reputation matter so much?”

“That’s not it.” He shook his head, tearing his gaze away from her.

He had no desire to tell her this wasn’t really about reputation. Every pain that was inside of him was because he wanted to protect her, to keep her safe, but to admit to that felt wrong.

He had promised a marriage of convenience, yet what was it becoming? Wasn’t he falling in too deep?

“Just ignore them, please.” She rounded the bag and came toward him, planting her hands on his chest again and looking up at him.

His eyes fell shut as he bent his head down toward her. He wanted to kiss her, to make love to her again, but this time, he would make it slow. It would be far more sensual than before.

He narrowly stopped himself from kissing her.

I will not repeat the lives of my mother and father.

He pulled back from her.

“Philip?” she whispered, clearly hurt by his movements.

I need to put distance between us. Now. If we care this much about each other already, what will happen next? Any wrong step and we’ll be tossed in turmoil.

He could only think of his mother and the heartache she had suffered over the years. He would not deliver the same pain to Grace. Neither did he wish to suffer it.

“What is it you’re not telling me?” Grace pleaded. “Why do reputations matter so much to you?”

Philip sighed. “My mother and father…” he began slowly as he laid the towel over the racking at the edge of the room. He was unsure how to tell her what he was feeling or even whether to do so at all. Before he could stop them though, the words escaped him. “He wasn’t faithful to her. Did you know that?”

He jerked his head toward her to see Grace’s shock. She stepped back, her lips parted, before she shook her head.

“His affairs, all of it was plastered across the scandal sheets.”

“Oh.” She hung her head down.

He wanted her to understand that he knew the pain of what a scandal sheet could cause. He had been just a small boy when he had seen that ache for the first time.

He’d come across his mother in the garden room, crying her eyes out as she read the sheet. He’d been too young to understand what the scandal sheet was talking about, but he could remember sitting by his mother’s feet, playing with the toy horses she had bought for him, and doing his best to make her smile again.

The task of making her smile was one he had returned to for many years since. He was never as successful at it as he wished to be.

“It’s not about reputation,” he said slowly. “It’s about the pain these scandal sheets cause.”

She was blinking madly, perhaps on the verge of tears.

He moved away from the racking and came close to her.

“Do you understand now?” he pleaded. “Do you understand why it angers me so much?”

“You fear pain?” she whispered.

For you.

He didn’t say these words aloud though. To admit to them was a weakness. It would be giving his heart to her much more than he had planned to.

Instead, he leaned toward her and kissed her on the forehead. It was the softest of kisses, butterfly like, gentle.

“Please,” she murmured. “Don’t stop.”

“Don’t plead with me,” he urged, moving his lips down her face. “I will give you what you want again.”

Her hands were on his chest again. Despite the fact he knew he should pull back, that if he didn’t want to get in too deep with Grace, he should step away now and not make love to her again, suddenly, it was happening.

He was kissing her, capturing her lips with his own. The kiss was fierce, yet slow. Her arms rose and wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him closer toward her.

He molded his body to hers, hardly caring that her dress was wet. He just needed to be closer to her. When his hands brushed her hips, and she gasped into his kiss, he lost all self-control.

He pulled back sharply.

“Philip?” she whispered, nearly losing her balance as he backed away from her. “You’re leaving?” she asked in surprise as he marched back toward the door.

“No chance,” he said sharply. He kicked the door shut. There was no lock on his door, so he settled himself with grabbing a chair and stuffing it under the door handle to make sure none of his staff could enter the room, then he moved back toward Grace. “Dress, off.”

She reached for the laces of the gown, doing as he asked, but he was impatient, desperate to feel her skin against his own again. He went to help her, their fingers fumbling together.

They kept kissing each other, unable to stay away. Each kiss practically burned him. In fact, he felt as if he was burning up from the inside out. Grace had this effect on him, something he had hardly ever expected the first night he had ever met her, but that was what Grace had always done.

From that night when she had fallen in his pond, she had continued to surprise him. This heat was no different.

He pulled the gown off her, hearing tearing sounds, for he pulled at the riding habit with such vigor though to his relief, she didn’t complain. When she was free of the dress, he turned her around, desperate to touch her. The corset accented her curves perfectly, and he fantasized about keeping it on her today. He chose to live out that fantasy, gripping her waist as he urged her toward the wall of the sports room.

“Hold onto the racks,” he pleaded with her.

She did, her fingers curling around the racks as he raised her chemise about her hips, bundling it across her waist. The moment her rear was exposed, he started exploring her, his fingers gripping her bare hips then reaching down, teasing between her legs.

She gasped, pushing back toward him, tempting him toward her.

He forgot all thought of pain from those scandal sheets. He didn’t even think about how deep he was falling for Grace. All he thought of now was this moment, this heat, Grace’s touch.

When his fingers found her center, she was already wet for him. He slid in easily, watching as her back arched and her head threw back. His other hand reached forward, and he gripped the back of her hair, toying with those honey tendrils. She rocked into his hand, clearly desperate for more pleasure. He rocked his fingers into her, watching as her body shuddered around his touch.

If I had known it could be like this…

He was wondering what could have happened if he and Grace had started exploring such things years ago. How well would they know one another’s bodies by now if they had been exploring for years?

He rocked into her faster, watching as her back arched all the more.

“Please,” she started to beg him again. “Please, Philip.”

“Tell me,” he ordered quietly. “Tell me what you want.” He released her hair, trailing his fingers down the back of her neck, between her shoulder blades, and then to that perfect arch of her back.

“You,” she whispered, gasping as he curled his fingers inside of her.

That breathy word was his undoing.

He pulled his hand free of her and unfastened his trousers, determined to give her what she wanted and take what he needed to. When his length was free, he moved to her entrance, sliding slowly inside of her.

As he moved, he kept his eyes on her back, watching her reaction. She arched a little more, her head throwing back as sounds escaped her. Her fingers curled tighter around the racks in front of her too. To see the power he had over her made him move faster, rocking their bodies quickly.

“Philip,” she moaned his name, repeating it constantly.

The pleasure was so overwhelming, he couldn’t think of pulling out of her. He just had to keep going, to drive them both to that perfect climax of pleasure.

He moved quicker and quicker, gripping her waist, so he could anchor himself to her, drive into her more easily. She kept moaning, such sounds now that he felt like he was living out every secret fantasy he had ever had of Grace.

She tipped her head toward the racking, her sounds suddenly growing deeper.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he whispered, needing to know it, to know that he was the one driving her there. “Tell me, Grace. Please, tell me.”

“I… I’m so close,” she whispered, then gasped again. She moved her hips against his, joining him in this desperate and urgent need to be completely absorbed in one another.

Then it happened, as he drove into her faster, she tipped over the edge. She cried out his name as he pleasured her, her head thrashing one way and then the next.

To see he was the one doing this to her sent him over the edge.

“Grace,” he moaned her name as he thrust himself inside of her, feeling his own release tingle through his abdomen then stretch through his entire being. He couldn’t stop but rode out both of their waves until they were completely done.

Unlike last time, he didn’t stay inside of her. His legs felt weak, and he had to pull out fast. The two of them both capitulated to the ground, falling together and leaning against the racking.

She leaned into his side, her back still toward him as he looped an arm loosely across her hip.

Neither of them said anything. They both just panted, gasping in an attempt to catch their breaths.

The next thing she did was simple, yet it had an overpowering effect on him. She rested her head on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes and bent toward her, kissing the top of her head.

What is this feeling?

He knew it though he didn’t want to give it a name. He wanted to keep Grace beside him, to nuzzle into her side, to burn every scandal sheet in London, and think only of the two of them.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Fear spiked inside of him, and he loosened his arm from her hip.

“Philip?” she murmured, clearly noting the fact he pulled back from her.

“I need to…” Yet he didn’t finish the sentence. He couldn’t even come up with an excuse. He just grabbed his clothes and stood, pulling them on again.

I need to escape this feeling.

“Philip, where are you going?”

He didn’t answer her as he left the room.