Page 62 of Second Chance Prince
For a heart-wrenching moment she was silent and then…“I am so glad!” she blurted out. “I felt as if I was the only one who didn’t know what to do.”
He laughed; he couldn’t help it. So much for his dreaded secret.
She lay her head down again. “Though you did awfully well,” she murmured sleepily.
Eventually, he slept too, but he was conscious of continually reminding himself to be still, in case his tossing and turningdisturbed his wife.
Wife.
The idea of ruling Holtswig no longer felt quite as daunting now that he knew she would be by his side. That someone he had thought a loyal follower was trying to kill him no longer frightened him quite as much, not with her there. He felt invincible, and perhaps that was a foolish admission, but he did.
A tap on the door in the dawn light woke him, and he regretted having to rise and leave her after he had said he would be there when she awoke. Would she see it as a broken promise? He hoped not. She knew that his duties were important, and he thought she would understand. At least, he hoped so.
Gently, Niki closed the door and followed his servant down the stairs.
The rest of the journey was without incident. Niki rode alongside the coach this time, saying he needed to stretch his legs, and Freddie, Antonia, and Ernest shared with Roberta. Once or twice, he noticed her face at the window, watching him, but most of the time she was engaged in conversation with the others.
Finally, they reached their destination near Dover. The house was large and grand and adequately staffed. They were all very weary, and once they had eaten their supper, they retired.
This time, Niki had to ask one of the servants where his wife was sleeping—no one had thought to tell him which room she was in. Eventually, he tracked her down to the Queen Anne suite, so called because an English queen had once slept here. As he slipped inside the door, he could see she was awake, proppedup with pillows, and there was a lamp beside her bed while a frighteningly large book rested upon her lap.
He began to undress, eager to get in beside her, while she watched him with wide eyes. It occurred to him that she had not seen him naked—the night in the inn had been very dark—and he slowed down and paid particular attention to untying his neckcloth.
“What are you reading?” He nodded toward the book with a grimace.
She laughed at his expression. “Antonia gave it to me. It is a history of Holtswig. She thought I might find it useful.”
“You know you can ask me anything you want to know. The history of my country was drummed into me from boyhood. I can probably answer any of your questions.”
She had set the book aside now and was watching him. He hesitated when it came to his shirt, even more self-conscious, and then told himself not to be ridiculous. Karl strutted around shirtless all the time. Quickly, he removed it, and her eyes slid over his chest, bright with curiosity. “You are very hairy,” she said.
He laughed. She always seemed to make him laugh at those moments when he needed to. He reached for the buttons on his riding breeches. “We are a hairy family.”
“Not Matilda, I hope.”
That made him laugh again and eased his nerves as he pushed down his garment and then his drawers. Her eyes widened even more at the sight of him. The other night, in the dark, they had begun to know each other by touch, but this was different.
“I would like to see you too,” he said, his voice low and husky.
“Oh, would you? Is that why you are…?” She gestured at his cock.
“It is a bit of a giveaway, isn’t it?”
Her face flushed, but she quickly threw back the covers and reached for the hem of her nightgown. It was pale pink, almost the color of her skin, with a ridiculous amount of lace and ribbons attached. As she made herself as naked as he, he thought she did not need any adornments; she was beautiful enough without them.
There was nothing flirtatious about her actions, but once she was bare, she didn’t seem to know what to do. She twisted her feet together in a knot and crossed her arms over her breasts. Her hair was loose and hung over one shoulder, and he longed to rake his hands through it and lift the dark mass to his face. He started toward the bed.
“I have wanted you all day,” he blurted out. He climbed onto the mattress, and on his hands and knees crawled toward her. “That was the reason I rode outside the coach. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to help myself if I were alone with you. Just think of the scandal.”
She looked surprised and then amused. “The Ashtons are no strangers to scandal, Niki. I think I would have liked you alone in the coach with me.”
When he reached out to trail his fingers across the bare skin of her belly, they trembled a little. “We could have pulled the blinds, I suppose,” he said, the idea titillating.
“Yes. Although your bodyguards might have wondered.”
She sounded breathless, and his fingers trailed lower, intothe dark curls between her thighs. Her feet unknotted, her arms dropped apart, and her thighs opened as he continued to stroke and touch, his exploration becoming more intimate. He had dreamed of this. He just hadn’t known it was Roberta he was dreaming of.
Now her hands were on him too, and she was supporting herself by gripping his shoulders as he bent forward and used his mouth on her. Niki might have been a virgin, but he was not ignorant of the many ways a man could pleasure a woman. He had listened to Karl often enough, and there were many books on the subject—he was a diligent scholar.
