Page 111 of A Foolish Flirtation

“Is it that way in the painting?” she asked.

“Do you know, at this precise moment, I can’t even bring the painting to mind,” he admitted. “It pales in comparison to the reality.”

She held his gaze for a moment, then reached up to rest her head against her arm. “Like this?”

“Beautiful,” he repeated as she settled into place. He took his time, until he had coated her all over, including her hands, her feet, her ankles, her wrists. No patch of skin was left untouched. Then he brushed kisses against the indentations at the insides of her elbows.

“Is this permissible?” he whispered, gently rearranging her legs so that he could kiss the dimples at the backs of her knees.

“Yes,” she agreed in a murmur, her eyes half closed by this point. “Oh yes. Wherever you want.”

“Wherever?”

She gave a sound of drowsy assent.

“Even if it wakes you up, oh great one?”

Her eyelids flickered. “Even then,” she agreed.

Jeremy grinned and kissed up her thighs. “Don’t dare take offence now, goddess, for I gained fair permission,” he warned.

Emmeline gave a sleepy smile and then sucked in her breath. “Ohhhh!” she said, eyes opening wide. “Well, what a very impudent young shepherd you are!”

26

“Emmeline?” Jeremy whispered. She gave a sigh. “Will you eat breakfast with me?”

She opened her eyes. “You don’t eat breakfast,” she reminded him, turning her head to look at him. He was plastered to her back with his arms encircling her.

“I know,” he admitted huskily, “but I’m not ready to part with you just yet.”

“What time is it?” she prevaricated, squinting at the window. She felt utterly languorous and far too comfortable to climb out of bed.

“It must be sometime after eight.”

“You did not go early to the stables,” she exclaimed in surprise.

“No,” he agreed mildly. “Masterman will be most put out.”

“Hmmm.” Suddenly, she remembered something and sat bolt upright. “I forgot about the bathroom!” she exclaimed, throwing back the covers.

“What about it?” Jeremy asked in surprise.

“I meant to get up early and clear away the evidence,” she said, standing up. It was only then she remembered how Jeremy had dragged the chaise longue into her bedroom last night. It stood in the middle of the floor, looking very out of place. He had been right. The vivid purple looked most jarring among all her peachy-colored bedroom furniture.

Recalling with embarrassing vividness how thoroughly he had pleasured her on that same couch, she cast about for her dressing robe, pulling it on.

“Evidence?” Jeremy laughed, but Emmie was already halfway out of the door. The dressing room door was partway open, and she could hear Lottie singing to herself in her curiously off-key voice. Bother! Emmie crept past the door to her bathroom and found that, as she had expected, everything had already been tidied away.

Chagrined, she took a quick wash and brushed her teeth before hurrying back to her bedroom. “It’s all your fault!” she grumbled as Jeremy regarded her with amusement from the bed. He did not seem remotely troubled by his nakedness this morning and was stretched out shamelessly beneath the covers.

“If you hadn’t attended to me so assiduously with—” She broke off in horror. She had almost said your tongue! Instead, she gasped, “With, er, lotion, I would not have been so comfortable and overslept. And now Lottie will wonder why I took a bath at such an odd hour!”

“You look very put out,” Jeremy commented, propping himself up on one elbow. “I did not know taking a sponge bath was such a scandalous thing.”

“It’s not that!” she said, quite flustered. She knew, of course, she was being ridiculous. “She will think me an inconsiderate and untidy mistress!”

He tutted. “Not at all, she will congratulate herself that she is much needed. Besides, surely Lottie was the one who filled the ewers with hot water for you in the first place?” he guessed reasonably.