A Lady by Midnight (Spindle Cove #3)(93)

Her words spurred him faster. Soon his hips were bucking with force, slapping against her thighs. The edge was near, and he raced toward it—for good or ill, determined not to hold anything back.

She cried out and clung to his neck, arching her back in the throes of bliss. He felt the sharp bite against his nape. Not her fingernails, no. His ring, on her finger. A razor edge of bliss.

He couldn’t last long now. The climax built in his loins and the base of his spine. Pleasure surged through his veins as he pumped hard and fast. He was wild to get closer, deeper. So deep, where it would be safe.

He forced himself to keep his eyes open, focused on her face. She would be his anchor if he found himself flung somewhere else.

“God, Katie. Hold on to me. Tight.”

She held him, and the climax seized him, too. And he did find himself flung somewhere else. But it wasn’t a land of shadows and smoke and explosion. Instead, he found a landscape of luminous skin and perfect pink lips and eyes so wide and so deep, they were seas of love. Here, he was reasonably certain hearts had wings. He intended to make many return trips.

Above all, it was beautiful. It was so beautiful, he could have wept.

He wouldn’t have wept alone. As he slowed to a stop, a few tears glistened on her cheeks. He didn’t worry about them, just kissed them away.

“I love you, too,” she said.

He lifted his head, surprised. “Did I say it?”

She smiled. “Only several times.”

“Oh. Then good.” He kissed her again. “I felt it enough for a thousand.”

She stroked his hair, and he allowed himself a few moments’ rest, nestled close to her bosom. If he had to be a broken, fragmented man, liable to slip into strange territories from time to time and be unaware of his actions—he was glad to know he could do something good and loving on occasion.

“We should be getting back,” he said, withdrawing from her embrace. “I should speak with Drewe.”

“Kate?” The deep, masculine voice came from the corridor. “Kate, are you down here?”

Damn, damn, damn. Speak of the devil.

Thorne didn’t panic. He rose and pulled Katie to her feet, moments before Drewe entered the room. As she stood, her carefully draped skirts fell naturally to the floor. No one would have known what had just gone on beneath them.

“We’re in here, Drewe,” Thorne called, trying to make his voice nonchalant.

“We?” Drewe asked, striding into the room.

Thorne tried to be calm as he buttoned his falls. He knew the shadows would hide him for a few moments, as Drewe’s eyes adjusted to the candlelight.

Just one more closure . . .

Then the coat buttons. Drewe was halfway to them now.

One more button. There.

“Drewe.” Thorne bowed. “I was looking for you.”

The marquess eyed him warily. “Kate, what’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing.”

Her protests were a little too strenuous for Thorne’s liking, and Drewe was definitely suspicious. But he was reasonably certain they’d managed to cover any real evidence.

That was, until Drewe’s gaze fell to the two discarded stockings on the floor.

Damn.

In the dark, his eyes flashed with unholy rage. “You rutting bastard,” he seethed. “I’ll kill you.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Evan, stop. Stop!” Kate grabbed her cousin by the sleeve, wrenching him away. “Don’t do this. I’ll explain. We’re going to be married.”

“Married?” Evan’s face twisted. “To him?”

Thorne approached and placed one hand at the small of her back. “I meant to come speak with you, Drewe. I meant to ask for her hand properly, but—”

“But what? You decided to defile her in a darkened room first? You bastard.”

Evan lunged at him again, and Kate jumped between the two men just in time.

“Wait,” she called out. “We need to talk. All of us. But we’ll never manage it if you’re leaping at each other’s throats.”

She put one hand on either man’s chest and pushed them toward opposite sides of the hall. “Just give me a few moments.”

“Very well,” Evan said. He added ominously, “A few moments.”

More voices reached them from the shadowed corridor. “Kate? Evan? Is everything all right?”

Harry, Lark, and Aunt Marmoset stepped into the candlelit entryway of the long narrow hall.

“The dancing’s been paused for supper. We were hoping to make the announcement soon,” Harry said, eyeing the men’s furious expressions and Kate’s disheveled gown. “But it looks as though you’re . . . busy. Corporal Thorne, what a surprise.”

“We’ll just pop back inside,” Lark offered.

Aunt Marmoset smiled. “I hear there’s a fresh bowl of punch.”

“No, stay,” Kate said. “Please, stay. All three of you. This concerns you, too.” She laid a hand flat on her belly, just as she did when she needed support to sing loud and clear. “Corporal Thorne and I have reconciled. We’re going to be married.”

From his side of the hall, Evan fumed. “Kate, you can’t. Do you have any idea who this man is? I had him investigated, you know. Back when we first arrived in Spindle Cove.”