Chemistry of Magic: Unexpected Magic Book Five (Unexpected Magic #5)(18)
He shrugged out of his coat while she pried at the knot she’d unfortunately made with trembling fingers. He nuzzled her throat, reducing her thoughts to oatmeal. By the time she had the knot undone and started on his wilted linen, he was rucking up her skirt and petticoat.
“What. . . what are you doing?” she whispered as the heat of his hand caressed her stockinged limb. She didn’t know if the rush of sensation was lust or his pain or her imagination.
“Wishing there was a respectable inn at the next stop,” he said fervently. “You have legs a mile long, and I want to feel them wrapped around me.”
Just the notion of wrapping her legs around him. . . Her mind flew out the window.
Then he ran his hand up to her garter, his finger brushed her bare thigh, and Emilia nearly elevated off his lap. Tension and excitement pooled in her lower parts. “This is. . . I think. . . Perhaps we should wait.”
But she didn’t want to wait. She wanted his hand to keep doing what it was doing and more.
He chuckled, bent his head, and nuzzled her exposed breast, and she couldn’t have fought him if she’d wanted.
She was sitting in a carriage with her bodice open and her skirts up to her waist like a wanton! He really was the devil!
And then this tongue lapped her nipple, and she came apart, shaking and trembling and turning to liquid inside. His finger brushed her nether lips, and she almost cried her need.
“You are as hungry as I am,” he said in satisfaction. “Let me thank you for offering your business proposition.”
And he pushed his finger inside her, rubbed a magic spot, and sent her over the brink.
Surrounded by the delicious scent of sex and lavender, enrapt in the moans of the innocent he seduced, blanketed by soft feminine flesh, Dare held back his cough for as long as he could. He was so immensely grateful for this moment he’d never hoped to know again, that he didn’t even regret his inability to achieve his own satisfaction. His arousal wilted as he struggled with his cough and the searing pain in his belly. He fumbled for his handkerchief, and his satiated wife immediately unburied her face from his shoulder.
He had to help her return to her seat from the awkward position he’d put her in. As he coughed up his lungs, he noticed she didn’t even take time to fasten her bodice while she rummaged through their bags for lozenges and water.
Admiring her white breasts eased him past the embarrassment of his ridiculous illness. Pert pink cherries capped plump vanilla confections. He wanted to lick them all over.
“I’ve heard the sun and fresh air can ease the congestion,” she offered, holding the water bottle while he sucked on the lozenges. “We’ll set up a chair outside where you can rest when the sun is out.”
“I have too much to do to lie about,” Dare declared with a firmness that brooked no argument. “Once I’ve separated the minerals in the water, I need to test their properties as restoratives. Bath’s water is high in magnesium, for instance. I thought I’d see how that reacts with sputum.”
His bride curled her lip in disgust. “Ugh. Spitting into a beaker sounds most unhealthy. My grandfather had a workshop where he made his medicines. You can probably set your equipment up there. It won’t hurt for you to sit in the sun and read and write occasionally outside the shop.”
Dare regarded her with fascination. He’d just given her what he would swear was her first sexual encounter, and now his bride sat there like a prim miss, fastening her underclothes, and discussing workshops. How had he managed to marry the one woman in all the kingdom with brains?
She sent him a sideways glance that said he’d been silent too long. He took the water, swallowed, and was at a loss as to how to reply. His formidable mind had shut down beneath the conflicting messages she sent.
When he said nothing, she finished fastening her bodice and sighed. “I am no good at small talk. Was I supposed to thank you for teaching me carnal lust?”
Dare choked and coughed, more in surprise than because his lungs demanded it. He pulled her close again, leaned back on his pillows, and closed his eyes.
“I suspect this is what is called the honeymoon period, where we are in constant awe and admiration of the creature we have brilliantly chosen to marry. In another month or so, you will be yelling at me for ignoring you, and I will be locked up in my room, exploding things, and the honeymoon will end. Until then, accept that I adore everything about you, including and specifically your lack of frivolous speech.”
“You adore me? That is a trifle far-fetched.” She settled her head against his shoulders, though, relaxing at his silly declaration. “I have a great many peculiarities, so the shouting should be of firework quality.”
He laughed. “Shouting takes too much breath. I might just torch your draperies in frustration.”
“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” she said sweetly. “I have a dozen recipes for purgatives, some especially designed for the spleenish.”
“Spleenish!” he sputtered, relaxing with soft woman in his arms. “Don’t turn silly on me now. I’ll give you nights to remember.”
After he was gone went unsaid. Perhaps he ought to drive her mad and make her glad to see the end of him. It didn’t seem right to leave her mourning his worthless carcass.
Chapter 6