Page 80 of Second Duke's the Charm

His gray eyes stared into hers. “Tess.”

Happiness filled her. Her name on his lips felt like a vindication, an acknowledgment of something profound. As if he was seeing her,trulyseeing her, for the first time.

She pulled him down for a kiss just as he rocked his hips, sending a shimmer of pleasure through her body.

He didn’t try to make it last. He took her hard and fast, almost roughly, and Tess reveled in it, loving the way she frayed the edges of his control. She wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into the back of his thighs.

Her climax claimed her in a breathless rush, but just before he reached his own peak, he withdrew. She sent him a confused, questioning look, afraid that she’dsomehow displeased him, but he merely guided her hand back between his legs.

“Don’t want to leave you with a mess to clean up,” he panted. “Not out here.”

His thoughtfulness was something she hadn’t expected; she’d been so lost in their lovemaking that the aftermath hadn’t even crossed her mind.

Satisfied that it wasn’t lack of desire that had caused him to pause, she set about pleasuring him, loving the way his big body arched and shuddered at her touch. It still amazed her that such power could be mastered by such gentle pressure, the way a bull could be steered by a ring through its nose.

He groaned her name again when he climaxed, and Tess smiled in delight. If he could recall it when he was half delirious with passion, that was excellent progress.

He used one of the linen napkins to clean himself, but instead of righting his clothing, he tugged his shirt over his head and deftly removed his boots and stockings.

“Time for a swim.”

“You aren’t going to remove your breeches?”

He shook his head. “The shrinking effects of cold water are well documented. I refuse to provide you with anything but happy memories of my cock.”

Tess laughed, even as the bittersweet implication of his words gave her heart a pang. He still imagined them going their separate ways.

He sent her a questioning look, his brows raised in challenge. “Are you coming in?”

She laughed again, refusing to be dismayed. “Not for a hundred pounds. But you go ahead. I’ll sit here and watch. You might need rescuing.”

Chapter Thirty

Tess watched Justin test the strength of the rope swing with obvious mistrust. Apparently satisfied that it would hold his weight, he let out a bellowing shout and flung himself out over the water. He released it at the perfect time and plummeted into the pool below with a splash that reached her on the bank.

He surfaced with another shout, and this time Tess didn’t hide her laughter at his indignant expression.

“Bloody Hell, it’s as chill as the rivers in Canada!”

“I warned you!” she shouted back. “Daisy always said it was colder than a belt buckle at the Frost Fair, whatever that means. It’s certainly bracing.”

He set off across the pond in a brisk crawl and she watched in silent appreciation as his muscled arms and rounded shoulders cleaved through the water. When he reached the far bank he stood, giving her a delicious view of his broad back tapering to a narrow waist and hips. His buff breeches clung like a second skin, and she gave him a spontaneous round of applause.

“Bravo!”

He turned, pushing his wet hair from his face. He really was the most extraordinarily handsome man.

“Sure you won’t join me?”

Tess shook her head. “I’m enjoying the view.”

He waded over to a partly submerged tree trunk that jutted out into the water and climbed up onto it with an agility that belied his size. He extended his arms to the sides.

“In Canada, they transport timber this way. They cut down the trees, and float them down the rivers until they reach the sawmills. The log drivers, men calleddraveurs, balance on the logs like this and jump between them, making sure they don’t get jammed.”

“That sounds incredibly dangerous.”

“It is. Which is why I rejected it as a vocation. Shipping has far better odds of survival.”