Worth Any Price (Bow Street Runners #3)(81)

"I wasn't ogling," Lottie said impishly. "Women don't ogle." She gave him a boldly appraising glance. "But I do like the way you look in the morning."

Releasing her, Nick shook his head with a snort of disbelief, scrubbing his fingers through his disheveled hair. He rolled to his side, revealing a chest covered with thick dark curls.

Tempted beyond her ability to resist, Lottie wriggled closer to him, until her br**sts were pressed into the wealth of warm fur. "Did you ever spend the night with your friend?" she asked, entwining her legs with his.

"You mean with Gemma? God, no."

"Then I'm the first woman you've ever slept with," she said, pleased.

He touched her softly, his fingertips tracing the silken curve of her shoulder. "Yes."

Lottie made no protest as he rolled her to her back, his head lowering to her br**sts. They were tender and sensitive from his attentions, and she gasped as she felt his hot, gentle tongue swirling over the rosy nipple. Relaxing beneath him, she luxuriated in the tangle of sunshine and white linen, her arms curving around his dark head...

"Nick, we can't," she said suddenly. Her gaze shot to the clock on the mantel. "Good Lord, we're late!"

"Late for what?" he asked in a muffled voice, resisting as she attempted to push his heavy body away.

"Sophia and Sir Ross promised to be here at ten o'clock. There's barely enough time to bathe and dress-oh, do get off me, I must hurry!"

With a surly frown, Nick allowed her to squirm out from beneath him. "I want to stay in bed."

"We can't. We're going to tour the house with Sophia and Sir Ross, and you're going to make yourself agreeable and praise your sister for the splendid job she's done, and thank them both for their generosity. And then we'll entertain them for an early supper, after which they will return to Silverhill."

Nick lounged on his side as he watched her descend from the bed. "That's going to be at least twelve hours from now. I'm not going to be able to keep my hands off of you for that long."

"Then you'll have to devise some means of-" Lottie broke off and inhaled sharply as she stood upright.

"What is it?" he asked alertly.

Lottie blushed from her head to her toes. "I'm sore. In...in places that I'm not usually sore."

Nick understood immediately. An abashed grin touched his lips, and he hung his head in an unconvincing effort at penitence. "I'm sorry. An aftereffect of Tantric lovemaking."

"Is that what it was?" Lottie hobbled to a chair near the hearth, where she had left her robe. Hastily she wrapped it around herself.

"An ancient Indian art form," he explained. "Ritualized methods designed to prolong intercourse."

Lottie's high color persisted as she recalled the things he had done to her in the night. "Well, it certainly was prolonged."

"Not really. Tantric experts often have sexual relations for nine or ten hours at a time."

She gave him an appalled glance. "Could you do that, if you wished?"

Standing from the bed, Nick walked over to her, completely unself-conscious in his nakedness. He took her into his arms and nuzzled her soft blond hair, playing with the loose braid that hung down her back. "With you, I wouldn't mind trying," he said, smiling against her temple.

"No, thank you. I can barely walk as it is." She searched through the tantalizing hair on his chest, finding the point of his nipple. "I'm afraid I'm not going to encourage any of your Tantric practices."

"That's all right," he replied amiably. "There are other things we can do." His voice lowered seductively. "I haven't begun to show you the things I know."

"I was afraid of that," she said, and he laughed.

His big hand cupped around the back of her head, tilting it until her face was lifted to his. Lottie was amazed by the expression in his eyes, the heat that smoldered in the fathomless blue wells. His mouth lowered to hers slowly, as if he thought she might twist away. She realized that he feared her willingness to kiss him might have evaporated with the morning light. Holding still for him, she let her eyes close as she felt the velvety warmth of his mouth cover hers.

Nick hardly recognized himself in the days that followed. His confession to Lottie, and her astonishing reaction to it, had changed everything. She should have been repulsed by the things he had told her, and instead she had embraced him, accepted him, without hesitation. He didn't understand why. He watched her carefully for signs of regret, thinking that she would come to her senses. But the expected rejection did not come. Lottie opened herself to him in every way, sexually and emotionally. Her trust terrified him. His own need for her terrified him. God, to realize the extent to which his independence had been compromised...

However, he could not seem to stop it from happening.

Faced with this inevitability, Nick had no choice but to give in to it. And day after day, he let it drift farther inside him-this precarious, giddy warmth that he could only identify as happiness. He was no longer bedeviled and driven, no longer hungry for things he couldn't have. For the first time in his life, he was at peace. Even his nightmares seemed to have retreated. He slept more deeply than he ever had in his life, and if his dreams began to trouble him, he awakened to find Lottie's small body snuggled against his, her silken hair trailing over his arm. He had never been this idle...lazing in bed, making love to his wife, taking long rides or walks with her, even going on a damned picnic and enjoying himself despite the feeling that he should be in London with Morgan and the runners, doing something useful.