He lowered her onto the bed without breaking the kiss, and his mouth on hers was hard and hungry.
âI thought â¦â she gasped â⦠you werenât home ⦠until tomorrow.â
His lips found hers again. âIâm here now,â he rasped against her.
As he carried her back towards the bed that was all that mattered.
His hands slid around her waist as his mouth came down on hers again, and the feel of his bare chest, hard against her breasts, was enough to banish the anxiety that had leapt in herâalong with every other thought in her head that wasnât concerned with the immediate need to wrap herself around him until there was no space left and the distance of the last one hundred and forty-eight days was forgotten.
None of it was as sheâd planned. There was no champagne, no sexy silk nightdress, no sense of seduction, no conversation. Just skin and hands and a need so huge she felt as if it might break her wide open.
There would be a time for talking later. Tomorrow.
This was the best way she knew of bridging the spaces between them, of telling him what she wanted him to know, of reaching him.
London. March.
IT WAS just a tiny piece in the property section of one of the Sunday papers. Eating brioche spread thickly with raspberry jam in the crumpled ruins of the bed that had become their world for the last three weeks, Sophie gave a little squeal.
âListen to this!â
âUnexpected Twist to Fitzroy Inheritance
Following the recent death of Ralph Fitzroy, eighth Earl of Hawksworth and owner of the Alnburgh estate, it has come to light that the expected heir is not, in fact, set to inherit. Sources close to the family have confirmed that the estate, which includes Alnburgh Castle and five hundred acres of land in Northumberland as well as a sizeable slice of premium real estate in Chelsea, will pass to Jasper Fitzroy, the earlâs younger son from his second marriage, rather than his older brother, Major Kit Fitzroy.â
Putting the last bit of brioche in her mouth, she continued.
âMajor Fitzroy, a serving member of the armed forces, was recently awarded the George Cross forbravery. However, itâs possible that his courage failed him when it came to taking on Alnburgh. According to locals, maintenance of the estate has been severely neglected in recent years, leaving the next owner with a heavy financial burden to bear. While Kit Fitzroy is rumoured to have considerable personal wealth, perhaps this is one rescue mission he just doesnât want to take on â¦â
She tossed the newspaper aside and, licking jam off her fingers, cast Kit a sideways glance from under her lashes.
ââConsiderable personal wealthâ?â She wriggled down beneath the covers, smiling as she kissed his shoulder. âI like the sound of that.â
Kit, still surfacing from the depths of the sleep heâd been blessed with since heâd had Sophie in his bed, arched an eyebrow.
âI thought as much.â He sighed, turning over and looking straight into her sparkling, beautiful eyes. âYouâre nothing but a shallow, cynical gold-digger.â
âYouâre right.â Sophie nodded seriously, pressing her lips together to stop herself from smiling. âTo be honest, Iâm really only interested in your money, and your exceptionally gorgeous Chelsea house.â The sweeping gesture she made with her arm took in the bedroom with its view of the garden square outside where daffodils nodded their heads along the iron railings. âItâs why Iâve decided to put up with your boring personality and frankly quite average looks. Not to mention your disappointing performance in bedââ
She broke off with a squeal as, beneath the sheets, he slid a languid hand between her thighs.
âSorry, what was that?â he murmured gravely.
âI said â¦â she gasped â'⦠that I was only interested in your ⦠money.â He watched her eyes darken as he moved his hand higher. âIâve always wanted to be a rich manâs plaything.â
He propped himself up on one elbow, so he could see her better. Her hair was spilling over the pillowâa gentler red than when heâd first seen her that day on the train; the colour of horse chestnuts rather than holly berriesâand her face was bare of make-up. She had never looked more beautiful.
âNot a rich manâs wife?â he asked idly, leaning down to kiss the hollow above her collarbone.
âOh, no. If weâre talking marriage Iâd be looking for a title as well as a fortune.â Her voice turned husky as his lips moved to the base of her throat. âAnd a sizeable estate to go with it â¦â
He smiled, taking his time, breathing in the scent of her skin. âOK, thatâs good to know. Since Iâm fresh out of titles and estates thereâs probably no point in asking.â