She heeled and toed her boots, and they fell with a soft thud on the Aubusson carpet.
Her hands went to the buttons of her britches. With a deft wriggle she pushed them off her hips, then eased them down her legs with her heels.
Julian bent and helpfully yanked them over her feet.
While he was there, he pulled off her stockings, then straightened to resume the voyeur role.
“Must I do this all on my own?” She offered a mock plaintive smile.
“Yes.” His eyelids drooped, lazily seductive and he remained immobile, hands back on his hips, looking down at her.
Tamsyn squiggled out of her drawers, unbuttoned her shirt, and stripped it off; then she lay naked on the coverlet and regarded him quizzically.
“And now you may help me,” Julian directed, his cool voice quite at odds with the fire in his eyes.
Tamsyn sat up on the bed, placed her hands on his hips, and drew him close to her. She unbuckled his belt with deft efficiency, letting it drop to the floor. “You don't mind if I start here?” she said conversationally as she unbuttoned his britches.
“Not in the least.”
She eased his britches over his hips with a slow delicacy that Julian found as arousing as Tamsyn did. Her fingers stroked over his hipbones, her palm flattened against his belly, and his muscles jumped involuntarily. Slowly, her hand slid over his stomach and between his thighs as she bent and kissed his belly, drawing her tongue upward in a moist, searing stroke, darting into his navel as her fingers stroked and kneaded, until he groaned softly. Reaching behind, her fingertips dug into the taut muscles of is buttocks as she reached against him so that the hard shaft of flesh lay between her breasts.
Softly she brought her hands round to cup her breasts, squeezing them as they cradled his throbbing stem. Julian's breath quickened; the exquisite rhythmic friction increased, and he threw his head back with a low groan of pleasure. “Stop,” he whispered. “For pity's sake, stop now.”
Tamsyn merely smiled, her eyelashes fluttering wickedly against his chest as she brought him closer and closer to the brink until he shuddered and ecstasy bubbled hot in his veins as the world dissolved.
“Diablillo,” he chided as his breathing slowed, his eyes, hooded and languorous with fulfilment, gazed down at her upturned face. “You have only yourself to blame.”
“I've noticed you have a quick recovery time, milord colonel,” she said with an impudent grin, falling back on the bed, pulling him with her.
He kissed her with rough satisfaction, pinching her jaw between finger and thumb. “I don't know what you deserve.”
“Neither do I, but I don't mind just so long as I get it.”
“Oh, you will,” he promised, taking her mouth again, but this time with a long, slow exploration, his tongue flickering over her lips.
“Oh! Oh, I forgot. How could I have forgotten?”
With shocking suddenness Tamsyn pulled her face away from him and pushed at his chest, struggling to get off the bed. “This room's at the back of the house, isn't it?”
Julian rolled over onto his back, unsure whether he wanted to laugh or scream. “Gabriel, I suppose?”
“Yes, he's waiting outside in the mews.” She flew to the window, throwing it wide.
“Tell him to come in,” Julian said with a sigh. “No, he has to go back to Charing Cross to look after the horses.” She leaned out of the window, cupped her hands around her mouth, and produced a perfect imitation of a barn owl, waited a few seconds, and then repeated the sound. It was answered immediately. Tamsyn produced another series of bird calls, passing for a response.
Charing Cross? Why Charing Cross? But then again, why not? There was no point examining the finer points of Tamsyn's convoluted schemes. Gabriel's participation, of course, was inevitable.
Amused and impressed by the unusual colloquy at the window, Julian hitched himself onto his elbows. He gazed at her naked back curved in the open window and lost interest in the conversation. She did have the most entrancing backside, he thought dreamily.
“There.” Tamsyn straightened. “That's all settled, then.”
“Good. Then perhaps you'd like to get back here:' he requested in a tone of ironic courtesy.
“Oh, have you recovered?” She turned with a grin. “I anticipate a full recovery in about two minutes.
Now, get the hell over here!”
Tamsyn hopped across the room and leaped onto the bed beside him. “Yes, milord colonel. Anything you say, milord colonel.”
Chapter Twenty-three
TAMSYN WAS STILL ASLEEP WHEN JULIAN AWOKE IN THE morning. It was raining outside, and the room was dark, the general gloom exacerbated by the massive oak furniture and the heavy velvet hangings. The house was badly in need of redecorating, but he'd always assumed that it could wait until he married. A wife would enjoy putting her own mark on the place, much easier to do than at Tregarthan, which bore the unmistakable imprint of four generations of St. Simons.
He'd spent so little time in London in the last few years that the general air of neglect in Audley Square hadn't troubled him unduly, but now it occurred to him that he probably ought to tackle the issue before the deterioration became too bad. The prospect of his marriage was way in the future, something he couldn't contemplate until Napoleon was finally defeated.
He turned his head on the pillow to look at the sleeping face beside him. At some point he was going to have to find himself a wife, but he could not get away from the rueful knowledge that drifting in this diminutive bandit's anarchic, sensual wonderland was in a fair way to spoiling him for the kind of woman who would make an exemplary Lady St. Simon of Tregarthan.
His memories of the night remained sharply vivid both in his body and in his mind. It was one of Tamsyn's talents that every lovemaking with her was somehow unique, had something special that lived on in delicious memory.
He sat up to look at the time. It was six, and he was to meet with Lord Liverpool at eight.
Tamsyn groaned and turned onto her stomach, burying her face in the pillows. “What are you doing?”
“Getting up.” Bending, he kissed the back of her neck, and she wriggled at the tickling warmth of his breath. “Are you coming back to Spain with me, Tamsyn?”
“Why else do you think I'm here?” she mumbled into the pillow.
“And you'll give up the idea of finding your mother's family?” He stroked a finger down her spine.
Tamsyn lifted her head out of the pillow. “Why did you say it wasn't right for me to stay in Cornwall? I thought I was doing very well. People at the party seemed to think I fitted in all right.”
“But you were playing a part. We both know that the person you really are doesn't have a place in that kind of life, Tamsyn. You would be bored to tears in a few weeks once the novelty had worn off.”
“But I played the part well,” she insisted.
“Yes, I grant you that.”
Tamsyn dropped her head back into the pillow. He was right that it wasn't the ideal life for her, and she'd certainly never intended that it would be permanent. But she could learn to adapt in the right circumstances. At least Julian had admitted that she could fit in if she put her mind to it. It was a step in the right direction.
“And you've abandoned the idea of finding your mother's family?” he repeated.
“Yes,” she said, reflecting that since she'd already found them, it was hardly a lie.
Relief was sweet. He ran his hand in a slow, stroking caress down her back beneath the covers. “Go back to sleep, buttercup.” She moaned into the pillow but made no attempt to stop him when he slipped from the bed. He pulled the bed curtains tightly around her before ringing for shaving water.
Julian dressed rapidly in the scarlet tunic and fur pelisse of the cavalry officer, buckling on his sword belt, his curved sword snug against his hip. He was on army business, and his reflection in the mirror brought him deep satisfaction. It was good to be dressed again in this familiar way on an enterprise that was vital to the business that informed his life. He'd rather be on the battlefield, but soon he would be. They would go back together, and there would be no resentment, no anger, no sense of being used, to spoil the pleasure they took in and of each other.