His Wicked Lady (11 page)

She pushed him back on the bed and straddled
him. Without wasting any time, she took him into her, the
passageway of her wet warmth wrapping ever so nicely around him.
And in that moment, he forgot all about his misgivings about this
night. On its own accord, his body urged him to thrust deeper into
her. With a groan, he slid partially out of her and right back in.
She felt heavenly. Absolutely and completely heavenly. And somehow,
she’d managed to bring him to a point where he couldn’t even think.
All he could do was feel.

She seemed more than happy to encourage this,
too, for she rocked her hips, an action that not only made her
breasts jiggle in the most arousing manner but also brought him
closer to an orgasm. He tried to fight it off. He wasn’t ready to
end this round of lovemaking. Not when he’d never felt so good in
his entire life. But he couldn’t fight it. He grew still and
released his seed, crying out, clenching her hips and staying as
deep inside her as her flesh would allow.

She moaned, wiggling over him in a way that
prolonged his climax. When he finally descended from the heights of
heaven, she brought his hand between her legs and used his thumb to
rub a part of her that seemed to bring her intense pleasure.

Despite still reeling from the effects of his
orgasm, he focused enough on her instructions to follow her lead,
rubbing her in the way she’d demonstrated. Her moans grew louder,
and once more she was moving on top of him. He watched her breasts
bounce in the same delicious manner they’d been dancing moments
before. Even sated, he couldn’t resist the appeal of those
wonderful breasts. Who knew they looked even better out of a dress
than filling one?

“Oh yes,” she moaned, bringing his gaze to
her face, noting her determination. Her eyes met his, and she
whispered, “Faster. Do it faster.”

Something in the way she made the order
excited him. Yes, he was doing her bidding, but he was more than
happy to oblige. He did as she instructed and was rewarded with
even louder moans. For a moment, he wondered if all this noise was
a good idea. It wasn’t possible anyone could hear her, was it?

Soon, she grew still and cried out her
pleasure, this one being the loudest cry of all, and he was torn
between enjoying the fact that she had peaked and wondering how
many servants knew what they were doing. But certainly, all the
servants were downstairs. So they really wouldn’t be able to hear
them. Right?

She settled next to him, out of breath. Since
she snuggled up to him, he found himself putting his arm around
her. He told himself it wasn’t because he wanted to. It was simply
because it’d be awkward if he didn’t. If nothing else, he was
always a gentleman.

He closed his eyes, not expecting to doze off
to sleep. But he did, and when he woke up, he noticed Regan was
gone. He should have been relieved. After all, he really hadn’t
been looking forward to making her leave so he could finally have
some much needed time alone. He wasn’t relieved, though, and he
couldn’t figure out why.

***

Regan took her time in picking out her
morning dress. She wanted to be attractive when Malcolm saw her. He
had made the comment she dressed better than most of the ladies of
notable means. While he probably didn’t intend to encourage her,
she gathered he found her attractive. He wouldn’t be noticing what
she was wearing unless he thought so.

After a fifteen-minute struggle, she finally
chose the peach dress because it had a more revealing neckline. It
wasn’t anything a prostitute would wear. The dip was subtle. She’d
have to lean toward him to get the full advantage of it, but she
could find plenty of reasons to lean forward.

To further encourage him to look at her
breasts, she chose to wear a necklace with a pearl that came just
short of her neckline. She had her lady’s maid pull her hair back
so her hair wouldn’t detract from the necklace.

Once she was done, she studied her reflection
in the mirror.

“You’re a beautiful lady, but this morning,
you are absolutely radiant,” her lady’s maid said.

“Thank you, Minerva.”
Let’s just hope the groom thinks so,
too.

She left her bedchamber and went to Leonard’s
room where the maid was combing his hair.

“He’s almost ready,” the maid told her.

“I’m having crumpets this morning,” Leonard
said, squirming in his chair despite his best effort to remain
still. “Father said I could.”

Surprised her son had taken so quickly to
Malcolm, she asked, “You really like him?”

“Uh huh. He likes it when I talk.”

She shot the maid an amused grin, and the
maid chuckled. Turning her gaze to Leonard, she said, “I suppose
being a child makes it hard to get adults to listen to you.”

“I have to be quiet a lot,” he replied.

“Yes, I know. It’s polite, and I want you to
be polite.”

“Father thinks I don’t have to be
polite.”

“Oh, I’m sure he does.” If anyone would
stress the importance of being polite, it was Malcolm!

“Then why’d he let me talk?”

“Probably because he enjoys what you have to
say.”

Leonard smiled widely. “I like having a
father.”

“Well, don’t assume because he is nice to you
that you can do whatever you want. You do have to mind your
manners, and if he tells you to do something, you need to do it,
just as you would with me.”

“He’s ready, my lady,” the maid told her.

“Thank you.” Regan waved him to the door.
“Let’s see if your father is downstairs yet.”

The boy bolted for the door, and she had to
call out for him to slow down. It was nice he was so eager to see
Malcolm. Her only hesitation in marrying again was how well her
husband would get along with Leonard, and as it was turning out,
the two got along splendidly. Things couldn’t be more ideal.

Following her son down the hallway, she
glanced at Malcolm’s bedchamber door, wondering if he was still in
there. He didn’t seem like the type of gentleman who would hide,
but she’d been surprised when he’d locked his door the previous
evening. Who knew what he’d do this morning?

Sure, she was wagering he’d go downstairs and
had worn her most attractive morning dress because of it, but one
thing she was quickly learning was that she couldn’t take anything
for granted. He wasn’t anything like Frederick.

When she reached the drawing room, Leonard
peered in, shook his head, and went down the hall. She glanced
inside and, as she expected, Malcolm wasn’t there. She followed her
son until he darted into the den and called out, “Father!”

Malcolm let out a startled yelp, making her
giggle. The lad, in his enthusiasm, could be loud, and he would
have, no doubt, startled her, too, if she’d been Malcolm. Malcolm
had much to get used to in acquiring a son so soon.

She entered the room, watching as Malcolm
used the sleeve of his suit jacket to wipe up the water, which had
spilled on the table. The ledger had been thrown to the side of the
desk, probably in an effort to prevent it from getting wet. From
where she stood, the tactic had worked, for it appeared dry.

She went over to the corner of the room and
pulled on the tassel to summon the butler.

“I’m sorry, Father,” Leonard said, standing
beside him. “Are you angry?”

“No, I’m not angry,” Malcolm replied.
Grimacing, he stopped his frantic wiping and shook his sleeve.

“The butler will take care of it,” Regan told
him. “Why don’t you get a new jacket? Then we’ll eat.”

“Yes, I suppose I should.” Without even
glancing her way, he hurried out of the room.

“I can help him,” Leonard said.

“No,” she replied. “This is something he
should do by himself. Now, you be good and sit over there.” She
gestured to the chair.

“All right.”

As he obeyed, she went to the desk and
removed the other items that were still dry. Afterwards, she picked
up the ledger, surprised it was hers. She’d often had the steward
manage the money. Things of this nature didn’t particularly
interest her, but it was of much interest to Malcolm. She should
have known he’d want to get an idea of how wealthy she was. In
fact, maybe it should shock her he hadn’t done this last night
since he hadn’t been eager to go to bed.

“What is it, Mother?” Leonard asked.

“Oh, just an account of the money.” Noting
the confused expression on his face, she added, “It’s how much we
spend and save.”

She set the ledger on a dry area of the desk,
marked the page Malcolm had been at, and closed it.

The butler came into the room. “How may I be
of service, my lady?”

“There was a minor accident,” she said,
pointing to the puddle of water on the desk. “It’s nothing serious.
Just water.”

“I’ll get to it at once.”

As the butler left the room, she sat in the
chair next to her son and whispered, “Maybe the next time you come
into the room, you shouldn’t yell. I think you frightened your
father.” Though she tried to be serious, a chuckle rose up in her
throat.

“Does he frighten easily?” Leonard asked.

“I’m afraid so. I think he needs time to get
used to us.” Mostly her. But she didn’t add that part.

The butler returned to the room with a rag in
hand. Once he was done, he announced the morning buffet was ready
when they were.

She chose to wait for Malcolm to return. If
they ate together as a family, maybe it would help Malcolm make the
adjustment that much easier. He came into the den five minutes
later, wearing a new suit jacket, and she stood up.

“My ledger is over there,” she told him. “I
marked the page you were at, so you can get back to inspecting the
condition of the estate after we eat.”

This time, he did look over at her. As she’d
hoped, his gaze went from her face to her neckline. Good. The
necklace worked. When his gaze went back to her face, she noticed
the slight hint of pink in his cheeks.

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Good. I want to
see what I got myself into when I married you.”

“You got me,” Leonard spoke up, wiggling out
of the chair until he landed on his feet.

Malcolm nodded. “Indeed, I did, and that was
the best part of the arrangement.”

She suspected he’d said that to dissuade her
from coming to his bedchamber tonight, but if he thought she could
be discouraged so easily, he was mistaken. He hadn’t put up that
much of a fuss last evening. If he’d really wanted her to leave, he
would have led her to the door and waved her on out of his room.
But he hadn’t done that. Instead, he’d gone to the bed with her and
let her take him inside her and…

She quickly discarded the memory. Now wasn’t
the time to let her thoughts go there. If she wasn’t careful, she’d
start aching with desire to be with him again. It’d been a long
time since she’d had the pleasure of having a gentleman inside her.
She’d forgotten how intense an orgasm could be when she was making
love.

Malcolm narrowed his eyes at her. “Why are
you looking at me like that?”

Using as innocent an expression as she could,
she asked, “Like what?”

“Like I’m something you plan to eat?”

She chuckled. “I’m doing nothing of the sort.
You are speaking nonsense.” Before he could argue with her, she
took Leonard’s hand and led him out of the room.

Chapter Ten

M
alcolm was sure Regan kept eyeing him in the most impure
fashion during the entire meal. The only saving grace was that her
son was too young to understand what her sultry looks meant. The
butler who stood nearby, however, was old enough to know what was
going on, and it only added to Malcolm’s discomfort.

Surely, the staff didn’t know what he and
Regan had done last evening. Well, yes, they knew. It was the
wedding night, after all. But certainly, they hadn’t heard
anything. Had they?

At one point, he glanced at the butler, and
he thought he saw the older man smirk.

I’m imagining it, Malcolm told himself then
forced his attention from the butler.

“What are you going to do today?” Regan asked
before she picked up a strawberry.

“I’m going to White’s,” he said.

She let out a pretty frown. “You are?”

“Yes.” The sooner he made it clear he wasn’t
going to let her dictate his life, the better. It was bad enough
she wiggled her way into this marriage. “I have important gentlemen
to talk to.”

“But I thought you said you had set aside an
entire week to dedicate your time to me,” she replied. “I believe
it was in the missive you sent when I requested you meet me before
the wedding.”

“Circumstances changed,” he said, forcing
aside the small inkling of guilt that threatened to overtake him.
“I thought I hadn’t met you when I made that promise. It wasn’t
like I knew who you were.”