Bedding Lord Ned by Sally Mackenzie

pleasure and yet was as thrilled as if it was her first time.
    Well, more thrilled. She’d had no idea what to expect the first time. That had been outside on the hard ground, and it had hurt. She had to admit experience, a bed, and a closed door greatly improved things.
    â€œMmm.” She wrapped her arms around him. She never wanted to let him go.
    â€œYou are always a delight, my dear duchess.” He was a little breathless.
    She smiled and kissed his cheek. The first time had been wonderful—if painful—but all the other times since had deepened and strengthened her bond with him. They had faced life side by side. They had gone through sickness and health together; they had shared the joys and worries of raising their sons. Drew knew her better than anyone else in the world—as she knew him.
    He turned his head to meet her lips. “Tell Mary you are never sleeping anywhere but here with me.”
    â€œI think she knows that after all these years.”
    This was why she tried to help men and women find their match. This was what she wanted for her sons. Not the physical union—though that was lovely—but this deep sense of belonging to another, this feeling of home and family and connectedness.
    Her emotions flooded her as they always did. “I love you, Drew.”
    â€œAnd I love you.” Drew kissed her nose and rolled off onto his back. “I love you so much I will endure another day of these annoying people invading my home and my peace.”
    She laughed and sat up. After the magic came the mundane. She needed to get busy. “Remember that, please. I’m afraid I may need your help more than I usually do this time.”
    He groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes. “Why do I think this means I will have to involve myself in your matchmaking activities?”
    â€œBecause you are very astute.”
    He moved his arm slightly to glare at her. “ You are the Duchess of Love.”
    She grinned back at him and hopped down from the bed. “And you are the Duke of Love.”
    â€œI am not. The very thought is revolting.”
    She scooped up her nightgown and slipped it over her head. “I’m not asking you to do very much.”
    â€œHa! I know you, Venus. You are going to make me work far more than I wish.” He pulled himself up to sit against the headboard, and she was momentarily distracted by his naked chest and shoulders and arms.
    â€œAnd if you continue looking at me that way,” he said, “I’ll be forced to haul you back into this bed and”—he waggled his brows—“show you exactly how much I am the Duke of Love.”
    She laughed. “A vain threat. I know you can’t do what we just did again so soon.”
    He chose to look offended. “It’s not very sporting of you to say so.” Then he grinned. “But you know I can still have you writhing and moaning.”
    He could, too, and often had. “Don’t you dare. I need to attend to our guests.”
    â€œAnd I need to attend to their hostess.”
    â€œYou have attended to me.” She moved farther away from the bed to ensure she didn’t fall victim to temptation. “Now please pull your mind from between the sheets. We need to discuss this party.”
    Drew got out of bed to retrieve his nightshirt, and she admired his muscled arse before forcing herself to sit at her dressing table. Her hair looked like she’d been pulled backward through a bramble bush. She picked up her brush.
    â€œYou do have an odd assortment this year,” Drew said before he threw the nightshirt over his head. “I thought you planned these things carefully.”
    â€œI do.” Venus sighed and looked in the mirror. Was that another gray hair? “I did. It’s just that this group will take a little extra effort.”
    â€œI’ll say. That Humphrey fellow—”
    Venus waved away Mr. Humphrey. “He