Silk And Seduction Bundle 2. Louise Allen

have broken away. For she had been waiting for him to kiss her all day. Ever since he had set her ablaze by merely lifting her out of the coach. And now that she had him exactly where she wanted him, it felt as though, somehow, she had to…beat him at his own game!

      His hands swept down her sides, paused to measure the span of her waist, then slid round and down, squeezing her bottom hard.

      Midge felt a victorious thrill as he ground his hips against her stomach, for he was definitely, hugely, aroused.

      This time, when he tore his mouth from hers, she let him go. Knew she had been right to do so when he trailed hot wet kisses all the way down her throat. He let go of her bottom, but only so he could push the material of her bodice out of the way of his questing lips.

      Not about to be outdone, she yanked his shirt from his breeches and ran her hands up the satiny smooth muscles of his back.

      And then totally forgot what point she had been trying to make. She only knew she had to feel his naked skin against hers. And was grateful that for once, they were in complete accord.

      They tore away each other’s clothes and fell together onto the sofa, their need equally fierce. When Monty plunged into her, she strained up against him with all her might. He groaned. She whimpered. They both clutched at each other as hard as they could.

      And in minutes, it was over.

      Midge froze. She could not believe they had fallen on each other like wild animals, in the elegance of this formal sitting room!

      ‘Are you all right?’ said Monty, lifting his head from the crook of her neck, and looking down at her with concern.

      She was not sure. She was shaking all over. Covered in sweat. And more than a little shocked at herself.

      ‘That was selfish of me,’ said Monty, hastily with-drawing. ‘But I really needed that.’

      She had needed it just as much as he had, but something about the guilt in his voice made her doubly certain a lady should never admit it!

      ‘You look tired,’ he observed with a frown as he pulled up his breeches. ‘I shall just go and see if your maid is in your room.’ He strode off while he was still speaking. And then returned, his shirt half in and half out of his waistband, scooped her up, and carried her into her bedroom.

      After depositing her on the bed, he crossed to the fireplace and tugged on the bell pull.

      ‘She will be up here soon,’ he said. ‘I suggest you get her to bring you something up to eat. You must be hungry. You hardly ate anything tonight.’

      And then, having brushed a perfunctory kiss on her cheek, he strode out of her room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

      And then Midge knew what she felt. Empty and used. Because now he was done with her, he couldn’t wait to get away from her. She sat up quickly. It made her feel worse, somehow, to be sprawled limply all over the bed like that while he beat such a hasty retreat.

      Especially now she recalled him saying, ‘I needed that.’ Not ‘I needed you.’ But ‘that.’

      She tugged her bodice into a slightly less uncomfortable position, loathe for Pansy to find her in such a dishevelled state, and swung her feet down to the floor, all remaining residue of pleasure ebbing away.

      She had not placed any great significance on waking alone in her bridal bed that morning. Monty might have had a dozen reasons to have risen early, since they were going on a journey. But he had spent hardly any time with her at all today. And just now, he had shown he could not even bear to lie down with her for a few minutes after getting what he wanted from her.

      It was just as well her aunt had warned her what men could be like during the first weeks of marriage. Or the way he had practically sprinted out of her bedroom, the moment he had disposed of her body neatly back where it belonged, would have really hurt her.

      She had to remember that though lust was an integral part of a man’s nature, it was very far removed from anything like love. Or liking. Or even respect.

      She smiled bitterly. A woman could be as bad. She only had to remember the first time he had kissed her. She had thought she hated him. Yet the intimacy he had imposed on her that night had thrilled her to the point where she might almost have thrown caution to the wind.

      She wrapped her arms round her waist, as a chill shot through her.

      She would be a complete idiot to mistake this passion they shared for anything deeper.

      She should be grateful to him for the care he was taking not to mislead her. She had no wish to end up like her mother, broken-hearted because she had fallen in love with a husband who was never going to love her back!

      Somehow, she must learn not to hanker for more than Monty was willing to give her.

      The next morning, she woke to the sound of two voices conferring in subdued tones, somewhere beyond the end of her footboard. When she sat up, she saw Monty’s two little brothers sitting on the rug, deep in discussion.

      ‘Good morning,’ she said, pushing her unruly hair out of her eyes. ‘What are you doing down there?’

      They looked at her warily for a moment or two, clearly not having expected her to be awake.

      Then one of them, and for some reason, she was almost certain it was Skip’s owner, explained, ‘We wanted to thank you for keeping quiet about us having Skip in here yesterday.’

      ‘Yes,’ said the other, who she recalled, had taken his cue from the more dominant twin the day before, too. ‘Cobbett told us you made up a story about falling over, so’s we wouldn’t get into trouble. So we brought you a present. We thought you would like to find it when you woke up.’

      On the rug between them were what looked like a starling’s nest and a very inexpertly dissected frog, spread out on a piece of warped card.

      ‘Why, thank you,’ she smiled. They really were the most utterly adorable little scamps. ‘Would you like to tell me your names?’ she added, feeling glad now that, as a reaction to that torrid interlude on the sofa, she had covered herself up with the most modest nightgown she possessed. ‘Nobody introduced us properly yesterday. I’m Midge,’ she said, reaching over the footboard to shake hands.

      ‘Jem,’ said Skip’s owner, standing up and bowing from the waist.

      ‘Tobe’ said the other, accidentally stepping on the starling’s nest as he rose to make his own bow.

      ‘Do you ride?’ asked Jem.

      ‘Yes, I do. Only I have no horse at present.’

      The twins exchanged a look.

      ‘If you come down to the stables after breakfast, we can get Charlie to find you a horse.’

      ‘We…we could show you our den,’ offered Jem with a noble air. ‘Nobody else knows about it.’

      ‘And just the other day we found a badger’s set,’ put in Tobe, as though not wanting to be outdone by his twin.

      Midge’s spirits lifted. It sounded as though not all her time at Shevington was going to be comprised of sitting about pretending to be a grand lady, after all!

      It took only a week for her days to fall into a routine. In the mornings, after consuming a substantial breakfast, in her room, she roamed the estate with the twins, mounted on a lively mare called Misty, returning to the house to change for lunch.

      She spent the first couple of afternoons going all round Shevington Court with Mrs Wadsworth, who took great pains to explain that things were running with such efficiency, no input would be expected from her. Midge came away with the conviction that the woman was warning her that she would heartily resent any suggestions she might make.

      She would have felt that a girl like her had no business living in the midst of such grandeur, had she not begun to notice how friendly most of the lower staff