From Courtesan to Convenient Wife by Marguerite Kaye

Author:Marguerite Kaye [Kaye, Marguerite]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-01-05T14:06:03+00:00

Chapter Nine

Sophia awoke as the dawn light filtered in through the windows. Bleary-eyed, she sat up, realising as she did so that she was wearing her petticoats and shift, not her nightgown, that she was lying on a leather sofa under her cloak and Jean-Luc’s greatcoat, and she was not in her bedchamber but her husband’s office in the halle aux vins.

Jean-Luc got up from the chair behind his desk to perch beside her. His chin was dark with stubble, his hair tousled, his shirt open at the neck to reveal a dusting of rough dark hairs on his chest. ‘Good morning. Dare I ask if you slept well?’

‘I am ashamed to say that I did, though I take it you did not?’

‘Which is a polite way, I think, of telling me that I look a sight.’

‘You look boyishly dishevelled,’ she said, smiling shyly. ‘It suits you.’

He smoothed his hand over her tumble of hair, pulling out a stray pin. ‘Your crumpled, barely awake appearance is strangely appealing too.’

‘With my hair on end, and my face creased? Thank you.’

He laughed softly, leaning towards her, sliding his arm around her waist. ‘Sophia, you are adorable whatever the circumstances. Will you grant your husband a good morning kiss?’

She was not primped and prepared, yet there was no mistaking the heat in his eyes. And she could admit to herself, couldn’t she, that she liked this unkempt version of her husband very much. She twined her arms around his neck. ‘Good morning,’ she said, and kissed him.

He tasted vaguely of the wine he had been sampling the night before, and of toothpowder too. He must keep a supply here, she thought hazily. He must be accustomed to spending the night on this sofa, where she had slept. He returned her kiss slowly, his fingers combing through her hair, freeing it from the remainder of her pins, and she slid her hand under the loose neck of his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin against her palm for the first time. Their kisses deepened, their tongues touched. She lay back on the couch, pulling him with her, for the first time wanting to close the space he maintained between them, sliding her hands down his back to pull him against her. Their kisses were languorous. Early morning kisses, slumberous, yet rousing every one of her senses.

She tugged his shirt free from his breeches, running her hand up his back, relishing the way his muscles tensed under her touch. More kisses, deeper kisses. He cupped her breast, circling her nipple through the thin cambric of her chemise. She shuddered with delight.

‘More?’ he asked, his lids heavy, his eyes dark with passion, and she nodded. ‘More, please.’

He undid the ribbons to loosen the neckline of her chemise. He kissed her breasts, his mouth tasting every inch of her flesh, kissing as if there was no rush at all, which was both delicious and agonising. When his mouth covered her nipple, sucking, licking, she had to stifle a cry of delight.

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