Eight Rules For Engagement by Dayna Quince

Author:Dayna Quince [Quince, Dayna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dayna Quince

Chapter 15

Odette was shaking by the time she returned to her room. She swiftly peeled her wet garments from her body and rang for the maid. She hid her sopping wet clothes in the trunk under her bed and pulled on her nightgown. The maid entered, and Odette asked for a pitcher of hot water.

“Are you sure that's all you'll be wanting, Miss Odette? Your lips are blue. Wouldn't you rather have a bath?”

Odette rubbed her tingling hands together. She’d been so hot in his arms, but without him she was almost numb. “I don't want to be too much trouble.”

“’Tis no trouble at all. Her Grace would have my head if you took a chill, and I didn't at the very least offer a bath to you. But I'll do more than that, I must insist. I'll begin heating the water myself, and the tub will be brought up immediately.

The maid put two logs on the fire and brushed her hands off. “I'll be back in just a moment to help you.”

“I don't need help. Just the bath will be fine.”

The maid left her, and Odette sat next to the fire, her thoughts churning as the footmen brought in the tub and pails of hot steaming water. Once alone, she quickly disrobed and sank into the blissful warmth. She folded her arms and closed her eyes, but her body was still in chaos. Butterflies of pleasure still raced across her skin. The memory of his touch, the way his mouth branded her, the desperation in his hands as he held her face and kissed…

Dear God in heaven, the moment when he had lifted her hips against his. The bold pressure of his manhood felt so good, in a way she never felt before. She’d been overcome with desire and arousal, an entirely new emotion for her. Odette’s face flamed as she thought about how she’d wrapped her legs around him like a wicked woman and took her pleasure. She didn't know much about the marital act. Her mother had alluded to certain things. She'd always said Marsden women were passionate, hence why she had nine daughters herself. Her parents loved each other, and she'd seen them kissing and embracing even in their advanced age.

Odette had never given passion much thought. She'd been so focused on her plan to be an antiquary, knowing she couldn't be both things. There was no room for romance, so why dwell on it.

But it was much too late for that. This was beyond her control. Now she knew what she was missing. Not all of it, but she had knocked on the door of desire, opened it a crack, and what she saw on the other side was swiftly becoming addictive.

What was it about him that made her forget? What was it about herself that she couldn't control? When she was around him, whenever they argued, things seemed to combust between them like gunpowder and fire.

She couldn't stay away from him. She wasn't going to pretend that anymore.

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