Holding hands, they skipped like frolicking children back into the house and up the grand staircase. Evie led the way to her bedchamber, located at the far end of the guest wing so that anyone who wished to have his way with her would have had to steal past all the other guests' chambers.

But all the other guests had left this morning, and their hosts were out at the lake and would most likely be there for the greater part of the afternoon.

Maybe by that time, she wouldn't be able to bear Gareth's pleasuring anymore, but at the moment she doubted it.

Her pulse quickened and she trembled all over as he dropped his coat and removed his shirt to reveal his hard, muscled chest lightly sprinkled with dark hair. She longed to feel it against her own bare skin, her breasts all but aching for it. He pulled her into his embrace and she immediately felt his arousal jabbing into her as he kissed her deeply, stealthily undoing the buttons down the back of her frock till she was able to shrug out of it, the sleeves slipping off her shoulders before the whole thing dropped to her hips.

He reached for her skirt and pulled it up, bunching it around her waist before pushing it over her hips, letting it fall to the floor in a puddle of pink-sprigged muslin. Evie, meanwhile, fumbled with the buttons on his breeches. There were almost as many as those on her dress, but at least these were bigger and easier to manage. As she opened them his arousal sprang free, much bigger than what she'd glimpsed out at the lake.

"As I said," he murmured, tracing his lips around the shell of her ear, "water so cold had no effect on me. That's how much I want you, Evie. This is how much I want you." He practically tore off her stays, allowing her to breathe a huge sigh of desire.

She was so eager for him that she didn't even give him the chance to remove her shift. She pulled it over her head and tossed it aside while he sat down to remove his boots.

Evie turned away from him as she stepped out of her shoes, removed her drawers, and finally unrolled her stockings. She was about to turn and face him when he whispered, "Wait."

She froze. Was he having second thoughts?

"Stay just the way you are, with your back to me," he murmured. "You have no idea how much I long to see the front of you, but for now just let me savor the sight of you this way. Won't you take down your hair?"

Evie didn't know why he might savor the sight of her bare derriere, but she willingly complied, reaching up to remove the pins from her raven hair. Gooseflesh prickled over her skin as her hair tumbled down her back, and suddenly he was right behind her, stroking it as if he were petting a cat, pressing his arousal into her derriere as he slid his hands around her and cupped her breasts while he kissed her neck.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as she wrapped one arm around his neck, grazing his rough, stubbled cheek with her own smooth one as she placed her other hand over one of his, clutching it against her breast and then sliding it down over her belly till his fingers brushed through the dark thatch between her thighs.

She turned her head toward him, as he turned his own toward her, and like magic their lips came together, tongues swirling around each other as they rotated their hips against one another till she felt his shaft sliding right between her thighs from behind.

She squeezed them together as tightly as she could, to hold him in place, and to her delight, he groaned in what might have been pain, but she knew it was pleasure.

And she wanted to give him as much pleasure as he gave her. Her hand still over his, she reach over and under till her fingers found the moist tip of him, and she flicked her thumb over it as he bucked and groaned again, loosening his grip on her. Evie pitched forward onto the bed and flipped over onto her back.

"Beautiful," he whispered, almost breathing the word as he knelt over her, drinking in the sight of her with his gleaming green eyes. She pulled him down on top of her, twining her arms around his broad shoulders as they kissed again, deeply, passionately, as if their very lives depended on it. Evie thought they might have kissed forever if only he didn't break away from her to add, "I love you."

That was certainly worth breaking their kiss, for it wasn't as if they couldn't kiss again. Her heart brimmed with bliss as he slid down to kiss her breasts, before flicking his tongue around the tip of one and then taking it into his mouth altogether. The exquisite tugging sensations unfurled ribbons of heat that fluttered all the way down to her groin, where they tied themselves into a knot only Gareth could undo.

He slid down and knelt upright between her parted thighs as if he meant to do just that. He favored her with a tender smile. "Shall I finish what I started?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"Please do," she entreated him. "Oh, please do...please..." The pad of his thumb ever so lightly feathered that knot. "Oh, please, Gareth..."

"Ah, I love to hear you say my name as I pleasure you." The feathering turned into brushing, but the knot only tightened.

"Oh, Gareth, yes," she said with a sigh, closing her eyes as the brushing was now stroking in a tiny circular motion. Yet the knot only bunched tighter till she swore it must be swelling, ready to burst.

These were the same sensations she'd experienced that night at Madame Delphine's. The same ones she'd felt on the trestle table in the kitchen the other night. If they were interrupted a third time, she swore she'd scream and with her bare hands kill whoever was responsible for the interruption—even if it was her good friend Grace.

But for all she knew, Grace was sprawled on the grass along the edge of the lake this very moment, enjoying the same experience with her husband.

"Let it go," Gareth whispered, as she felt her entire body tightening into one great knot. "Just let it go, my darling Evie..."

"Oh, I wish I could," she gasped, as she arched her back. "I don't think I can bear it a moment longer..."

"And you thought you could bear it indefinitely, did you?"

She realized now that she couldn't, but maybe she would in any event, unless...and there it was. Just like that. The knot burst open in a wild flood of incredible raptures that gushed to every nerve ending in her body, and Evie came quite close to screaming—but not in frustration. She'd never imagined anything like this. The waves of ecstasy crested and receded, leaving her weak and gasping for breath.

He loomed over her, smiling. "And lest you think I finally finished what I started—rest assured that's only the start."

She smiled back. "Oh, I know there's more."

"A great deal more," he whispered, as the very tip of his arousal slowly slid into her, pausing at the barrier deep within her, but she was still too sated to even stiffen in anticipation of the pain she knew would come.

Yet when it did come, it was just a little twinge, gone in a blink as he filled her, and she whimpered in delight as he slid almost all the way out of her, then thrust into her again.

Evie wrapped her arms and legs around him as he buried his face in her hair and rocked into her repeatedly, slowly at first, then faster and harder and deeper, till she swore he must have touched her heart. For never before had her heart run riot with so much love and joy, that what was happening now was almost too good to be true, a dream that would burst and dissipate when this was over.

For that, and other reasons, she never wanted it to end. Here was something she thought she could bear indefinitely.

But not Gareth, who finally stiffened and groaned as he drove all the way inside of her and held himself there for a long moment before he went limp in her embrace.

Evie turned her head in search of his lips, and kissed him with all her heart till he flopped over next to her, panting raggedly.

The two of them must have drifted off to sleep, for the next thing she knew, what sounded like a distant shout startled her into a state of consciousness she hadn't realized she lost.

She was in bed with a dozing Gareth, and they were both naked. Parts of her that had been closed all her life felt strangely open in a not unpleasant sort of way. Daylight still streamed through the window, though not as strongly as before. Either it was much later in the day, or storm clouds were gathering.

She gingerly slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the window, peering out from behind the curtain, for it would be just her luck if someone happened to be out there looking up at this very window, out of all the windows in this grand house, and saw her with nary a stitch.

That proved to be fortuitous, for at least two people were out there, a man and a woman standing next to an enclosed carriage as if they'd just emerged from it.

She couldn't see exactly who they were because the woman wore a bonnet and the man a tall beaver hat. Still, the carriage looked familiar from here, all the more so once she glimpsed the crest on the door after a footman closed it.

She gasped as she spun away from the window. "Gareth! They're here!"

He stirred and grunted before lifting his head from the pillow. "What? Who?"

"My brother and his new wife! They're finally here! Now—" She broke off her words, not wanting to say the rest for fear it might break the magic spell—but what magic spell, and why would it break? She was being silly. Now that Ross and Tabitha were here, Gareth could formally ask her brother for her hand.

Gareth slowly lifted his head, his lips curving in a half-smile. "Lord and Lady Tyndall have arrived, have they? I suppose we don't want them to find us like this."

"No, we don't. I don't want him to think you must marry me because he found us—well, you know what I mean." Flustered, she started snatching up her discarded clothing.

He propped himself up on one elbow. "Do they even know you're here?"

She paused in her gyrations as she held her shift against herself. "I'm sure they think I'm with my mother, and that we've both returned to Derbyshire."

Gareth stretched out his free arm. "Do you really want to see them right away, or would you rather spend a bit more time with me?"

She hesitated, still clutching the shift.

He arched a brow. "I don't think they stopped here just to change horses. They'll be staying for dinner and almost certainly the night. And our hosts are probably still enjoying their picnic."

Evie surveyed him as he lazily lounged on his side, naked arm outstretched, not too unlike the copy of Michelangelo's painting of Adam that she'd glimpsed at Madame Delphine's. Gareth looked just like the man in that painting, save for a bigger—

Her mind made up, she dropped the shift to the floor.

So far, there was nothing awkward about her latest encounter with him.