Page 55 of The Rake is Taken
“This is my favorite spot in the house,” he whispered for her ears only.
She felt her face heat. They’d made love here many times since moving into the cottage. Last night, in fact. She well knew it was his favorite spot. He said the firelight made her skin glow like he’d dusted it with amber.
His hand tightened around hers, a fast, agitated clench. “I had another dream. About Ashcroft. About the girl. I could almost see her face this time. She was surrounded by books, I think. They were annoyed with each other, nothing friendly about the interaction. It almost looked like Oxford’s library, though I can’t say I visited that often during my tenure.”
Victoria tensed, then made herself relax. The love of her life was like no man she’d ever encountered, and the danger surrounding him, surrounding her now that she was a part of their supernatural community, was something she had to learn to live with. Work with, grow with. This new, welcome life of hers was changing everything. “I’m sorry I can’t block those. Julian is trying to understand why my interference with one of your gifts only seems to make the other stronger.” She chewed her lip in thought, thrusting aside her angst. She couldn’t solve every challenge Finn faced, more the pity because she’d have given her life to protect him. “The dreams coming more often and more intensely.”
“Julian is an able taskmaster. He closets you away for hours a day pouring over that dusty chronology. You’re the League’s,his, newest pet project. He so wants to have a firm grasp of your gift; itishard to deny him. He’s even recruited Agnes to help with the research, poor woman.” Finn lifted their joined hands to his lips and placed a delicate kiss on her palm, his tongue tracing a pulse point with calculated finesse. “I wish I was as interested in the occult when I simply want to live my life and lessen the damage. I want my children to be liberated from this burden. God willing, our talents skip a generation or leave our family completely. Find a way to solve that dilemma in those damned pages, and I’ll get excited about the process.”
Children. She desperately wanted Fig Alexander’s children. He was so good with Lucien, and Piper and Julian’s new baby, Emma.
As the jolt of awareness from Finn’s touch danced along her skin, she wondered, with a quick look around the room, what Belle would say if she dragged her husband from the parlor and didn’t return until morning. “Are you going to tell Ashcroft about the dreams?” she finally asked, her voice breathless, wanting, something her husband would notice. And hopefully, take delicious advantage of.
Finn rolled to his side to face her. Still, she found herself arrested by his beauty, his intelligence, his kindness. “I am. He’s coming for Christmas as I suppose we’re his only family, our delightfully mystical clan. Worse, I have to tell Julian. I’ve only delayed because once I do, we’ll be off on the chase. Who is she to Ashcroft? Why am I dreaming about her? What’s her bloody connection to the League?” He closed his eyes, his frown sending that adorable dent between his brows. “Truthfully, I’m exhausted by these campaigns. I want them toend.”
She leaned in to smooth her lips over his cheek. “Well, now, you have me to lean on. I’m quite strong, you know. Let your wife shoulder part of the burden. Make use of my willingness.”
Easing his hand behind her neck, he shifted her mouth to his to initiate a kiss. “Didn’t I embrace your willingness last night?Andthis morning?”
“Oh, bother, you two need to find a chamber,” Humphrey snapped as he entered the cottage on a rush of frigid air and swirling snow, jugging an armload of firewood, and awkwardly kicking the door shut. He’d escorted Belle home just as the storm began to rage, and he was none too happy to be stranded at Brook Cottage. Victoria had a sneaking suspicion being held hostage with Finn’s enchanting, quick-tempered sister was the reason for his pique. “Isn’t the honeymoon long over?”
“I’m trying to sleep,” Simon groused, curling his arm over his head, and turning his back on the room. He was, by all accounts, a typical, irritable adolescent. They never knew if he was talking to them or one of the recently-deceased people who inhabited his world. Although Victoria’s blocking seemed to keep the haunts at a slight distance. Peering in the windows of the cottage, according to Simon, which did send a vague scamper of unease along Victoria’s skin.
“Lune de miel, a marriage’s sweetness, can last for years. Or so I’ve been told,” Belle murmured with a clack of her knitting needles. “Such a romantic, Ollie. It inspires, truly.”
Humphrey dumped the firewood in the log holder and turned to her with a muttered oath everyone heard quite clearly. “We’ve discussed the nickname, missy. It’s Humphrey. I don’t go by Oliver, I never have. Who the hell even told you my first name, I’d love to know.” His hot gaze fell to Finn, one of only three people, before one of those three disclosed the secret, who’d known.
Belle smiled but didn’t look up, the needles speaking for her. A formidable opponent for the gentle giant if Victoria had ever seen one.
“Don’t go getting ideas,” Finn whispered with a grin, though he tried to flatten his lips to hide it. “I don’t think Ollie is ever going to marry. And Belle…” He shrugged with another of those frowns pleating his brow. He worried about Belle finding her own life when she seemed content to mother every lost soul Julian dragged to Harbingdon until it was hard to remember when she wasn’t there to nurture, console, placate.
Victoria leaned to kiss Finn, willing to suffer Humphrey’s wrath.
Children with her beloved. Marriage for Belle and Humphrey.
She would pray for two Christmas miracles.
~ END ~