Lessons in Pleasure by Victoria Dahl Page B

up to find his friend watching him as if he’d just announced that he was running off to Timbuktu with a stable hand. He couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m in love with Sarah.”
    “Since when?” Monty scoffed.
    Since the day I met her, he wanted to say, but didn’t. “None of your business. Just watch your mouth if she ever deigns to invite you to dinner.”
    He scowled. “I can’t imagine when that will be. I don’t think she likes me.”
    “Hard to fathom.”
    His friend’s confusion wasn’t feigned. He’d flirted with Sarah the way he flirted with every woman and grew more dumbfounded each time she responded with annoyance. Most women loved Montgomery. Sarah did not. James felt inordinately pleased.
    “Well, this is intolerable,” Monty complained. “You were enough of a stick-in-the-mud before.”
    “Then it’s not much of a loss, is it?” When James saw familiar doorways begin to pass by the window, he smiled. He’d had no choice but to attend this dinner meeting, but now he was home and his pretty, surprising wife awaited within. He had the door open before the carriage rocked to a stop. “Good evening, Monty.”
    His friend snorted in disgust as the hack pulled away, but James only grinned wider. Half an hour, tops, and he planned to have the taste of Sarah on his tongue. He’d spent a good quarter of the day hard. At every opportunity, his mind turned to the image of her sex spread wide for his enjoyment. How pretty and delicate she was down there, how perfect as she shuddered against his lips.
    His mouth watering, he inclined his head at Crawford’s greeting, then contemplated holding on to his hat to avoid embarrassing the servant.
    “Sir?” the butler intoned.
    James gave in and turned over the hat, spinning quickly toward the parlor in an attempt to flee with his pride intact. “Is Mrs. Hood still up?”
    “No, sir. She retired a half hour ago.”
    “Ah. Wonderful.” He’d already made it halfway up the stairs when Crawford’s next words reached him. “Madam was suffering from the headache and decided to retire early.”
    “Oh.” He froze, one foot already on the next step. Was she sick or was she laid out naked in anticipation of his arrival? He thought of the blush that so easily overtook her, and revised his fantasy. Not naked, perhaps, but still anticipating his return? “Thank you, Crawford.” He continued on, hopeful.
    There was no hint awaiting him in his dressing room. Tugging off his tie, he dropped it on a table as he passed through to the dark bedroom beyond. His cock throbbed in anticipation as he moved toward the bed.
    “Sarah?” he murmured.
    “Hm?”
    “Are you unwell?”
    “Yes,” she whispered. “A bit.”
    “Oh, I see.” He tried not to indulge the disappointment that flooded his veins. The disappointment had no effect on his erection, unfortunately, but it also did not dull his need to breathe her in after a full day away from her side. Whether they made love or not, he wanted to be in bed with her.
    He looked toward the pale smudge of her face in the dark. “Can I get you anything, sweetheart?”
    “No, Mary has already brought a glass of wine to help me sleep.”
    “Very well.” He walked slowly back to the dressing room, wondering if she was really sick or only suffering a guilty conscience as she had the day before. Or, he supposed, it was possible she was miffed over his long absence today. Regardless, he meant to join her in their bed.
    A few minutes later, he slid beneath the cool sheets, startling a little jerk from her side of the mattress. “James?”
    “Shh. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
    “Oh.” That one little sound seemed full of relief, forcing James to push down his wounded pride.
    “Go back to sleep, Sarah.” He felt her nod and reached to smooth a hand over her brow. No fever, at any rate. When he repeated the motion, she sighed. “A headache?”
    “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
    “Come.” He tucked her