"You were," she managed to say, her thighs floating apart.
Nick's thick lashes lowered as he stared at the shimmering blur of her body beneath the water. His handsome features were carved with such severity that his face could have been molded from bronze. The edge of his rolled-up sleeve dragged in the water, the velvet turning hot and sodden.
"I won't ever hurt you again," he said. "That's a promise."
Lottie caught her breath as he parted the tender folds between her thighs and investigated the fragile plumpness they had concealed. Her hips lifted, while her hands fought for purchase on the slippery surface of the tub. He slid a supportive arm behind her back, holding her securely.
"Lean back," he murmured. "Let me pleasure you."
No, she thought skeptically, not in a bathtub, with a thick wall of porcelain between them. But she relaxed in his hold and opened for him as his free arm moved across her body. She grasped his wrist lightly, feeling the movement of tendons and muscles as he ran his thumb over each side of her vulva. He rubbed the silken flanges of her inner lips together, his touch tender and light. Softly he spread her, stroking his middle fingertip along the tender seam, brushing the rosy nub of her sex each time. He smiled slightly as he saw bright patches of color appear on her face and chest. "The Chinese call this the jewel terrace," he whispered. Gently his finger slipped inside her, advancing only an inch, circling softly. "And here, the lute strings...and here..." He reached to the most secret recesses of her body. "The flower heart. Does it hurt when I touch you this way?"
"No," she gasped.
His lips brushed her ear. "The next time we lie together, I'll show you a position called Stepping Tigers. I'll enter you from behind and go deep inside...and rub against the flower heart over and over..." He suckled her earlobe, catching it lightly between his teeth. A hum of pleasure climbed from Lottie's chest to her throat. She was floating, weightless, yet clasped securely by the arm at her back and the hand between her thighs.
"How do you know such things?" she asked unsteadily.
"Gemma collects books on erotic techniques. One of her favorites is a translation of a text written during the Tang dynasty. The book counsels men to increase their stamina by forestalling their own pleasure as long as possible." His finger withdrew, and he stroked her inner thighs with the lightness of butterfly wings. "And it gives prescriptions for health benefits...to strengthen the bones...enrich the blood...ensure long life."
"Tell me some of them," Lottie said, swallowing hard as his hand cupped over her, the base of his palm nudging rhythmically into the place where she was most sensitive.
He nuzzled her cheek. "There's the Soaring Phoenix, which is said to make a hundred illnesses disappear. And Cranes Entwining Necks-reputedly very good for promoting healing."
"How many have you tried?"
"Only about forty. The ancient masters would consider me a novice."
Lottie drew back to stare at him in astonishment, her movement causing a wave to slosh close to the rim of the tub. "How many are there, for heaven's sake?"
"Fifteen coital movements applied to thirty-six basic positions...which provides about four hundred variations."
"That s-seems rather excessive," she managed to say.
Amusement curled through his voice. "It would keep us busy, wouldn't it?"
Lottie winced as she realized that he was trying to slide two fingers inside her. "Nick, I can't-"
"Take a deep breath and exhale slowly," he whispered. "I'll be gentle." And as she obeyed, he eased his middle fingers past the tight entrance. His thumb teased her sex and swirled in a steady rhythm.
Moaning, Lottie buried her face against his velvet-covered arm while her inner muscles grasped helplessly at the gentle invasion. After the initial sting faded, she began to squirm and gasp at each penetrating glide. "You hold me so sweetly in here," Nick said huskily. "I want to go deeper and deeper...lose myself in you..."
His words were drowned out by the thundering of her own heartbeat, and she was racked with shudders of bliss, her senses lit with white-hot fire.
A long time later, after the bath had cooled, Lottie dressed in a fresh white nightgown and approached the bedroom table, where Nick was standing. She felt herself color as he stared at her with a half-smile. "I like the way you look in this," he said, brushing his fingers over the high-necked bodice of the gown. "Very innocent."
"Not any longer," Lottie said with an abashed smile.
He lifted her against his body, his face rubbing into the cool dampness of her hair. His beguiling mouth found her neck. "Oh, yes, you are," he said. "It's going to require a great deal of time and effort to debauch you completely."
"I have every faith you'll succeed," she said, and sat before a plate loaded with ham, vegetable pudding, potatoes, and open-faced tarts.
"To our marriage," Nick said, pouring a glass of wine for her. "May it continue in a better vein than it started."
They raised their glasses and clinked the crystal gently. Lottie sipped cautiously, discovering a rich, spicy flavor that balanced the saltiness of the ham.
Setting his glass aside, Nick took her hand in his and regarded her bare fingers thoughtfully. "You have no ring. I'm going to remedy that tomorrow."
Lottie experienced a shameful spark of interest in the idea. She had never owned a piece of jewelry. However, it had been drilled into her at Maidstone's that a lady should avoid the appearance of acquisitiveness. She managed to adopt an impassive expression that would have pleased her former teachers excessively. "It isn't necessary," she said. "Many married women do not wear rings."
"I want anyone who looks at you to know that you're taken."
Lottie gave him a brilliant smile. "If you insist, I suppose I can't stop you."
He grinned at her obvious eagerness. His thumb brushed over the fine points of her knuckles. "What kind of stone would you like?"
"A sapphire?" she suggested hopefully.
"A sapphire it is." He kept her hand as they talked, absently toying with the tips of her fingers and the close-trimmed crescents of her nails. "I suspect you'll want to see your family soon."
Lottie's attention was immediately diverted from the subject of the ring. "Yes, please. I fear that Lord Radnor may have already told my parents about what I've done. And I don't want them to worry that they'll be left destitute now that I have married someone else."
"There is no need to look so guilty," Nick said, tracing the thin veins inside of her wrist. "You had no part in making the bargain-it wasn't your fault that you didn't wish to uphold it."
"But I benefitted from it," Lottie pointed out reluctantly. "All those years at Maidstone's...my education cost a great deal. And now Lord Radnor has nothing in return."
He arched a dark brow. "If your point is that Radnor has been ill used-"
"No, it's not that, precisely. It's just...well, I didn't do the honorable thing."
"Yes, no doubt you should have fallen on the sword for the rest of the family," he said sardonically. "But your parents will be just as well served this way. I couldn't possibly be a worse son-in-law than Radnor."
"You are certainly preferable as a husband," she said.
He smiled at that, lifting her fingers to his mouth. "You would preferanyone to Radnor as a husband-you've made that quite clear."
Lottie smiled, thinking privately that in marrying Nick, she had ended up with a far different husband than she had expected. "What will you do tomorrow?" she asked, remembering their earlier confrontation with Sir Ross. She was certain that Nick would not relinquish his position at Bow Street without objection.
Releasing her hand, Nick frowned. "I'm going to visit Morgan."
"Do you think that he will take your side against Sir Ross's?"
"Not a chance in hell. But I'll at least have the satisfaction of telling Morgan what a damned rotten traitor he is."