Page 64 of Eight Hunting Lyons (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

M adeline awoke to find herself alone in her bed. But a noise drew her attention toward the door. Oliver was walking into the room carrying a plate of food and a bottle of wine. He was completely nude.

Had she been a more modest woman, as she ought to be, she would have looked away. But the sight of his body in motion fascinated her. He was lean and well-muscled, his legs and chest lightly covered with hair. His broad shoulders tapered to narrow hips and nestled between them was the part of him that had, only a scant hour or so earlier, been a complete mystery.

“If you do not look away, I will become distracted by more pleasurable pursuits and I think we both require sustenance before we do that again,” he teased.

Madeline did blush then, but her curious mind produced a question that escaped her lips before she could think better of it. “How often do married couples do… well, what we did?”

“Making love,” he supplied. “And I cannot say what other married people do as I have never been counted amongst their ranks. All I can say is that I hope to engage in that particular activity with you as often as you will permit.”

Madeline leaned forward as he reached the bed and plucked a berry from the plate he carried. “I cannot imagine that I would ever have reason to decline such a wondrous activity.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Wondrous? It seems I have set an impossible standard to live up to.”

“Surely not,” she said. “I can only imagine that now that I have some inkling of what will occur, it should be much easier to… meet the standard.”

He placed the plate on the bed and then climbed in, reclining on his side completely impervious to his own nudity.

“You’re not very modest, are you?” Madeline asked, hitching the sheet higher about her breasts. She might not be virginal any longer, but outside of those heated moments in the throes of lovemaking, she could not imagine being so cavalier about nudity.

“Not really. You won’t be for much longer… not with me, at any rate. The funny thing about the kind of intimacy we have shared is that it seeps into every aspect of one’s relationship. In six months, you will say things to me that, at one point in time, you would swear you would never have even uttered aloud.”

And that brought to mind her conversation with Coraline and Coraline’s veiled threats. “Along those lines, I feel compelled to tell you something very unpleasant.”

He popped another berry into his mouth. “I have some unpleasant things to share myself. We shall both get them out of the way. Go on.”

“I ran into Coraline while we were in the shops purchasing that nightgown you made such quick work of,” she began. “Apparently, and I’ve no notion of how she knows this, the fact that our marriage had not been previously consummated was known to her. She threatened to raise all sorts of gossip and scandal about it if we do not give her half of my inheritance.”

He nodded. “I see. I can only imagine one of the servants has said something they should not have. We will entrust Mrs. Wilson to get to the bottom of that and address it… as to her charges, it’s a bit late. Your former betrothed cum brother-in-law has already stolen her thunder. He’s put a bet on the books at White’s, where he was recently admitted, regarding the future annulment of our union for that very reason.”

Madeline’s heart sank. “I had thought marriage would end the gossip. It’s only given them another way to attack.”

“Not necessarily. Tomorrow night is the Amberley ball. If we wish to end the gossip once and for all, we only have to make an appearance there that will offer them a different kind of scandal,” he said.

“What sort of scandal would we give them?”

“That of a man who is completely infatuated with his wife… and she, in turn, is infatuated with him. We shall dance together and much closer than is appropriate. Then we shall disappear from the ballroom together for an extended period of time.”

“But people would think we were engaging in improper—oh. People would think that!” she squeaked with realization.

“Yes,” he replied. “They would. But know this… I do not care what they think. I’m not going to this ball for them. I’m going for you, Madeline. Because it matters to you and because, however this might have begun, you now matter to me.”

Madeline glanced at the plate of various fruits and cheeses. Picking it up, she placed it on the table beside the bed. “I’m not especially hungry at the moment. You did say we could make love again, didn’t you?”

He rose up on one elbow and reached for her, drawing her down with him. “So I did. Never let it be said that I do not make every effort to please my new wife.”

When he kissed her this time, Madeline knew where it would lead. She knew precisely what awaited her and it was so much easier to simply lose herself in it and to sink into the languid warmth that he drew from within her. Every touch, every sigh, every gentle stroke was familiar now, but still so exciting and new. She craved his touch and his nearness. She craved the way he made her feel. It ought to have terrified her but, in truth, it only made her feel alive.

“I had no idea I could feel this way,” she mused as he kissed her neck.

“Amorous?”

“Happy,” she replied. “I’m happy. I was only existing before, trying not to be noticed, trying not to become a target for anyone’s wrath or vitriol. And here, I don’t have to hide. I can be myself and I can be with you. Nothing could be better.”

He smiled down at her. “We’ll see about that.”