Broken Dove
Page 70

To which I called back, “I’m changing.”
To which I heard nothing but his boots and belt hitting the floor which meant he was getting ready for bed.
We’d also had one other change of circumstance since things settled in. This was Apollo getting me pennyrium, which he’d brought along with Loretta and Meeta.
So all was good on that front and sheaths were no longer necessary.
But it wasn’t lost on me that we hadn’t “explored” the “play” we’d engaged in that night we arrived in Karsvall, deeply or otherwise.
When he made love to me, it was sweet. It was slow. It was taking our time, building it then letting it explode.
It was also awesome.
But I had to admit, that night was hot. As in h-o-t, hot. I also had to admit I wouldn’t mind exploring it (at all). Deep or otherwise.
That said, even slow and gentle, every time was good and there was no denying that the adela tea led us to understand each other better, what we liked, deepening the experience, making it richer than any I’d ever had or could even imagine having. There was a freedom to it, no being worried about what he’d think of my body or if I was doing something right. We had a kind of harmony in bed. It was about each other, togetherness, the experience and cl**ax, all of this making the togetherness more meaningful. Even out of bed.
It was amazing.
Actually, Apollo was amazing. Tender, sweet, forthcoming, funny, and tender was worth another mention, especially the way Apollo did it.
And that was to say, the way he did it was just the way he was.
Sure, there was an arrogance about him that I most likely came with his position in society and his family. But also it just came naturally. A man of his looks, wealth, status and intelligence, this could happen. And with Apollo, it did.
That said, this was simply one small nuance of his personality. The rest, or the Apollo he gave me, was so much more.
An example being, it had been three days and he’d made his point about wanting me to meet his kids and he didn’t mention it again. No pressure. I was a ten minute horse ride away, but he was a busy guy and he still split his time between me and them and didn’t utter a word.
Nothing.
He just did it. He didn’t bitch. He didn’t push.
I had to admit, I loved that.
Actually, I was realizing there were a lot of things I loved about Apollo and as I smoothed my hands over my nightgown at my hips, I knew I was excited to walk into the room and be with him. I didn’t care if we made love, if we just talked, if we didn’t talk and just cuddled.
I just wanted to be with him.
I never thought I’d feel that way about a man. Not again. I was done with all men after Pol.
So to feel that way about Pol’s twin was crazy.
But as the days slid by, Apollo was making it crazy-beautiful.
On that thought, I wandered out of the dressing room into the bedroom and stopped.
He was in bed, smack in the middle, sitting up. He had the duvet to his waist, his wide chest on display, his dark hair was a mess from riding to the house and he hadn’t even bothered running his hands through it to give it some order.
He also had a sheaf of papers in his hands, his eyes to them and there was something about his big guy, muscled, powerful, commanding masculinity amongst all that cream, yellow, peach and eyelet that made my mouth water.
Then again, whenever I saw him, my mouth watered.
And also, there was the small fact that I knew he was na**d under that duvet. Apollo never went to bed with clothes on unless he was doing it in the middle of taking them off.
His head came up, his eyes instantly slid down my body then they moved up and when they made it to mine, I said softly, “Hey.”
His face shifted to that tender look I felt in my belly and around my heart.
“Come here, dove,” he said softly back.
I went there. While he tossed the papers to the nightstand, I lifted my nightgown to my h*ps and crawled into the bed on my knees. When I got to him, I threw a leg over and straddled his lap. His hands came to rest on my ass as my eyes found his.
“I’ve changed my mind about preferring you pressed to me, sleeping naked,” he declared, his fingers accentuating his point by gliding over the satin at my ass.
“I have a lot of kickass nightgowns you’ve been missing out on, sweetheart,” I replied.
“Mm,” he murmured, this noise also hitting me in my belly but in a different way.
His eyes dropped to my chest and his hands started sliding up my sides.
I caught them at the wrists and he looked back to me.
“Baby, we’ve gotta talk.”
That was when he did what Apollo always did.
He wrapped his arms around me, pulled me close and gave me what I asked for instantly.
“About what, poppy?”
God, I loved it that he could be this way.
I put my hands to his chest. “About three things. Then we can move on to the good stuff.”
His lips twitched, his arms gave me a squeeze and he said, “Go on.”
“Well,” I started. “It’s come to my attention that your boys are kind of…” I hesitated, “active at the main house and in the village.”
His head cocked slightly to the side. “Active?”
“Very active.”
“They are indeed active, Maddie. Though I’m thinking I don’t understand what you’re truly saying.”
“Hans has slept with Loretta.”
“And?”
“And, Loretta’s my ladies maid.”
“Yes?”
I stared at him, then said, “Well, Hans is one of your men and a friend of mine. And he’s around the house, not often but he’s around.”
“This is true,” he stated, patient but bemused.
Okay, surprisingly it seemed I had to explain this to him.
I moved a bit closer, sliding my hands up his chest to curl my fingers on his shoulders and I shared, “He’s been here twice since Loretta came on board and he hasn’t even looked at her. She’s crushing on him big time—”
“Crushing?” he queried, his brows drawing together.
“She likes him.”
“Ah,” he murmured, his brow clearing.
“It’s awkward,” I told him.
“She shouldn’t have taken him to her bed.”
I blinked.
Then I said, “Actually, I was thinking you might have a word with the boys so they would be more discreet and by that I mean appropriate and by that I mean they might wish to go further afield when they’re selecting their, um…play partners.”