was in awe, reverent even as his passion built, but he would continue to hold back, be gentle, slowly, carefully, bring her at least some measure of pleasure...even if it killed him.
But Dany wasn’t so reticent.
Her fingertips dug into his back would leave marks. She raised herself to meet him each time he dared to go deeper, matching him move for move. He could hear her quick, shallow breaths. He could feel her heart beating against his chest.
He raised his head, looking down into her eyes. Those deeply blue, all-expressive eyes. The expression of wonder was still there, now accompanied by revelation, and perhaps even a bit of impatience.
Bless her. Dany, the fearless.
“Are you certain? I’m not hurting you? Because...”
She scissored her legs higher on his back.
He had his answer.
Nature has a way of protecting the innocent, and that’s what they were at this moment, two innocents, navigating their way through unfamiliar territory, guided only by instinct.
Sex. Any two people could fumble their way through that age-old act.
But to care, really care? Adding that unexpected dimension to what came naturally?
Being with Dany this way, Coop felt himself as much the virgin as she had been until a few short minutes ago. As his passion grew, another emotion grew with it, blossomed, burst into full flower the moment he felt her body convulse around him. Her pleasure ignited him, took him beyond anything he’d known, and when he spilled inside her he felt tears stinging at the backs of his eyes.
He lay on top of her for long moments, both of them recovering their breath, waiting for their hearts to ease back from the mad gallops they had been that had helped them race to the brink, and beyond.
He looked down on her face, again attempting to gauge her reaction, only to see tears running out of the corners of her eyes, sliding into her ears. Yet she smiled, raised a hand to cup his cheek.
He turned his mouth into her palm, pressed a kiss against her warm flesh.
“That...that was interesting.”
Only Dany could say something like that and make him laugh.
“I agree,” he told her, carefully levering himself away from her, just enough to remove some of his weight. Still watching her, he fumbled for the cashmere throw, drawing it up and over her.
Dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose, he sat up, his back to her, located his jacket and retrieved the linen square handkerchief.
“Stay,” he told her as he got to his feet, one hand holding up his pantaloons. He felt he presented a less than romantic figure, but there was nothing else for it.
“Stay? Am I graduated now to your trusty hound?”
“Absolutely,” he told her with a smile, and then took himself off to the stream, dipping the handkerchief in it, catching his breath in his throat as he saw the merest streaking of red that clung to him.
Once buttoned and tucked and reasonably decent, he rinsed the handkerchief and carried it back to the gazebo, only to see that Dany apparently had fallen asleep.
So much for any niggling worries he might have harbored about tears, uncomfortable questions or recriminations.
He lifted the throw and bent over her, kissing her awake, whispering into her ear, even as he slipped the wet handkerchief into her hand and then took himself off again, only returning when she asked his assistance in rebuttoning her gown, standing behind her to secure the buttons, kissing her shoulder, smiling as she tipped back her head against his chest.
“We have to go,” he told her as she busied herself folding the throw and replacing it on the back of the chaise.
“I know. We have to go back to the world, and all our problems. Including the fact that I doubt I will be able to look Darby, or Harry, for that matter, in the face ever again.”
“Harry was trained to be discreet, having been in my mother’s employ since he was out of leading strings, and Darby has what he terms a selective memory. At least he won’t tease. Well, he won’t tease you. I don’t think I’ll be so fortunate.”
Together, stealing kisses across the expanse of the blanket, they gathered up the remnants of their uneaten meal before Coop took her hand and led her back toward the cottage.
Harry was already waiting with the curricle, holding one of the bay’s heads, a bit of residue from what had probably been a cherry tart clinging to his chin and a wide smile on his face.
Once they were away from the estate and heading back to Portman Square, Coop felt the world slipping back into his consciousness, doing its best to crowd out more recent, definitely more pleasant memories.
Dany appeared to be suffering from the same depressing letdown.
“Have you decided how you’re going to approach this Ferdie person? You more than hinted that finding something with which to turn the tables on him is no longer possible now that he knows he’s been found out. But then what do you do? What can any of us do? To stop the publication of another chapbook destroying you, of retrieving Mari’s foolish letters?”
“Some plans are in motion, but they won’t suffice on their own. Ferdie attempted to coerce Geoff into killing me. I doubt that having Geoff conveniently sidelined by injury will stop Ferdie for long, once he discovers that Geoff did a flit.”
He turned to look at her, sure he was about to set off their very first verbal fight, and not a half hour after they’d made love. “In any event, until he’s taken care of, you are confined to Portman Square.”
“I will not!”
He needed to be direct, and firm. “Dany, don’t I have enough on my mind?”
She faced front, her arms crossed, and pouted.
“Dany?”
“Yes, yes, I was going to answer you. Reluctantly. You’re right,” she said at last, sighing rather theatrically. “But I expect Rigby and Darby to have your back. They will, won’t they?”
“Yes.” But Coop was far from relaxing. Dany obeyed when she wanted to obey. He’d learned that well enough in only these few days. “I’d move you to the duchess’s mansion, but you need to remain with your sister. What if Oliver were to return before we have the letters? She’d need you.”
“Again, I have to agree. Will you at least tell me what these other plans are that you have set in motion?”
He attempted to hold back a smile, but failed. “Minerva and the duchess are involved, along with an eager-to-help Clarice Goodfellow. And believe it or not, the whole thing was Rigby’s idea. I only had to agree to not interfere and ‘Get on with it,’ as Minerva told Darby and me to...”
The shot came from the trees to their left, and Harry cried out in pain.
Coop reacted with a soldier’s quickness, never slowing the curricle.
“Harry!”
“Here, sir. It’s m’leg, sir.”
“Hold on! Dany, can you take the reins?”
She already had her hands out to accept them. “We all need to learn sometime. Grab him, Coop, before he tumbles off.”
Coop didn’t have time to worry about her inexperience. The roadway was far from crowded, and straight as far ahead as he could see. He turned on the bench seat, snagged Harry by the front of his shirt, lifted him clear of the seat and pulled him forward so that he landed facedown between them, then managed to right him on the seat before taking back the reins.
The time—from the sound of the shot, to Harry’s yelp of pain, to taking back the reins while Dany cradled the tiger tightly against her—had been no more than