“Bathing,” Harry said, sliding his hands along the long length of her thighs, his eyes alight with love and passion and desire. “You will need to bathe me. Later. Much later. I plan on being very sweaty.”
Plum opened her eyes and tipped her head back to gaze into his face as he slid an arm around her waist, lifting her and carrying her the few steps to the bed. She mused for a moment about the ridiculously wonderful nature of men that made them feel it necessary to carry their women to a bed, then pushed that thought aside to concentrate on more important things. “About Charles—”
One boot thudded to the floor. Harry glanced at Plum for a moment, a glance so full of promise she squirmed on the bed as he used the bootjack to pry off the other boot. “Later, Plum. We’ll talk about that bastard later.”
“Yes, but I am worried—”
“Later,” Harry repeated, quickly stripping off the rest of his clothing, standing before her in all of the glory of his masculinity.
Plum’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze greedily consumed him from toes to nose, tossing aside her cares, worries, and unhappiness, giving herself up to the wondrous love that bound her to her husband.
“Harry,” she mumbled against his breastbone some time later, her fingers trailing up the side of his rib cage, reveling in the heat of him. “We should talk about Charles.”
Harry groaned slightly and shifted beneath her. “You’re insatiable, woman. Give me a few minutes to gather the tatters of what strength you’ve allowed me to retain, and I’ll be happy to oblige.”
Plum giggled, lifted her head, and gently bit his chin. “It was a particularly successful calisthenic, wasn’t it? I very much enjoyed the benediction.”
Eyes closed, but with a smile on his face, he answered. “I thought you might like that. A little something I thought of one day when I saw a balloon ascension.”
“It was heavenly.” Plum rested her mouth against Harry’s neck for a moment, and then raised back up, resting her chin on her hands crossed on top of his chest. She wiggled her hips slightly to get his attention, and immediately felt his manhood begin to stiffen against her thighs. Two strong hands settled on her hips and held her still. A little gleam of green shone through slightly opened eyes. She smiled. “Now we’ll talk about what to do with Charles. I think if you were to find a murderer, and I modified my scenarios—”
Harry sighed, sliding his hands down to massage her behind in a manner that made her groan in pleasure. “Much as I think the bastard deserves to be killed, there is another way. I will simply threaten to destroy him if he so much as breathes a hint of your literary identity.”
Plum raised both eyebrows. “Really? Are you sure you can do it? I thought a scandal might stop him, but after tonight—”
Harry kissed her forehead and slid his hands lower, chuckling a sexy chuckle that set Plum’s blood to simmering. “What a violent bit of baggage you are. It’s one of the many things I adore about you.”
Plum wiggled again in silent protest of this new train of thought.
Harry gripped her behind. “You don’t have to kill a man to destroy him, sweetheart. If anything happened to you or the children, it would destroy me.”
“Yes, I know it would, but that’s because you are a singularly wonderful man. Charles, however, is an absolute rotter. I doubt if he feels anything for anyone but himself, let alone affection for his family.”
Harry shook his head slightly and slid his hands along the warmth of her inner thighs, parting them as he said, “I had not intended on striking him through his family. You’re quite correct, that wouldn’t affect him at all. But there’s something that will — money. I will simply pay the man a visit and inform him in no uncertain terms that if he mentions anything about you, I will see to it he is destroyed financially, to such an extent that he will never recover.”
Tears of gratitude pricked her eyes. “Can you do that?”
Harry shrugged, not a very easy act considering she was lying on him. “With the help of my friends, yes.”
“And you really think it will work?”
“Yes.” His fingers stroked ever tightening circles on her thighs.
“He won’t tell anyone? We won’t face another scandal?”
“No, and no.”
Plum was distracted for a moment by the path his fingers were taking, but she had one last shameful secret to bare. She had to say it now, while he was in a forgiving mood. “About the babe — Harry, I used you. Shamefully. I wanted a child of my own so badly, even though I know you don’t think I’m a good mother, but truly, I am trying. That incident with the twins and the cow in St. James’s Park was truly a fluke — that cowherd was exaggerating when he said the cow was frightened to death. And yesterday, when Digger put the fish down India’s back while we were in the glass shop picking out new crystal, I lectured him most sternly about taking responsibility for his actions, and told him you would take the cost of the broken decanters out of his quarterly allowance. And later, at the fruiterers, where we had gone because the children had never seen a pineapple — and they were quite taken by the one in the window display — I told them all we would not go for ices at Gunters as we planned because they would insist on wreaking havoc with all those lovely pyramids of oranges and apples, not to mention what they did to the figs, but honestly, you can’t lay the blame for that at my door, because I did tell them before we went in not to touch anything.”
Harry, who had been shaking beneath Plum as she recounted event after shameful event, finally gave up and roared with laughter. She slapped her hand down flat upon his chest and gave him a look to let him know she wasn’t amused. “Harry, this isn’t funny! I’m baring my soul to you!”
“You’re baring something,” he leered, sliding his fingers into her damp heat. “I never thought you were a bad mother, Plum. Far from it, I doubt if anyone could have done as good a job with the children as you have done. You are patience personified with them.”
“Hardly. Oh, my, Harry!” she gasped as he rolled her onto her back, coming into her with a smooth movement that never failed to thrill her. “The Kingfisher? Now? Here? But we were talking about…about…about something! Oh, yes, the children, that’s it, we were talking about the children and the babe and…and…mmmmrowr!”
Harry kissed the knees that rested on either shoulder before he stroked deeply into her. “Do you really want to talk about that now?”
Plum arched up beneath her husband, sliding her legs down to his waist as she pulled his head down to her own. “No,” she whispered on his lips. “It can wait until later. Much, much later.”
CHAPTER Seventeen
“Well, I guess that settles the question of what to do about him,” Noble said, nudging the body with the toe of his boot. “You sure your wife didn’t hire someone other than you and Nick to take care of the matter?”
Harry steeled himself for the unpleasant task of examining the bloated corpse, rolling it onto its back, trying not to think too much about the ghastly expression on the face, or the damage normal to a body that has floated in the water for several hours. “Quite sure. That was all a misunderstanding between her and Thom. She wanted simply to blackmail de Spenser. When did your man say he found the body?” Harry glanced up to the two large men who stood beside him in the pale light of dawn.