a little food…”
Spence jumped to his feet. “Say no more. I shall ventured forth and obtain what we need.” He tore off the sheath and tossed it in the nearby basket, then stepped into his trousers.
Phil chuckled at his light-hearted mood, rolled over on her stomach, and leaned on an elbow. “You will find the wine and glasses on the counter in the kitchen. The tray is in the dining room as you will need it to bring us up a meal. Oh, do you know where the root cellar is?” He nodded. “Place the leftover food there to keep it from spoiling.”
Spence gave her a stunning smile. “Any other orders, my queen?”
She dismissed him airily with her hand. “I cannot think of anything at this moment, but I will let you know if I do.”
His laughter followed him out the door. Then he hummed God Save the Queen as he descended the stairs. Oh damn, how adorable. She did not lie or exaggerate at all when she stated he was an amazing lover. For his first try he certainly deserved a medal. The fact he would only improve saddened her as she would not be around to observe his progress.
Lord Spencer Hornsby was not perfect in either looks or temperament. But on this night, the last one of 1881, he came as close to utter flawlessness as a man could achieve. With a stretch of her arms, she rolled out of bed. After stirring the embers to life in the fireplace, she walked to the basin, cleaned up, and fastened the hooks on her corset. She crawled back onto the bed, tunneling under the plush quilt.
A few minutes later, Spence entered, carrying a tray with wine and food. Every woman should be waited on by such a man. How dangerously sexy and disheveled he appeared standing there shirtless, his trousers hanging low on his slim, muscular hips with his tousled golden-brown hair and his blue eyes shimmering with life and passion. A stab of yearning tore through her as she realized how she wanted a loving, caring man to wait on her, see to her every need, and hold her close when she required comfort and warmth. Shaking away the unrealistic fantasies, she gave him a tremulous smile.
Returning it, he placed the tray on the bed. “I believe we should ring in the new year now, this very minute.” He glanced at the mantel clock. “It is ten o’clock, close enough for a celebration.”
“You cannot wait another two hours?”
“Phil, the way I want to ring in the new year is by making love to you. At midnight, I will be inside you.” He removed the cork on the bottle, poured the wine into the goblets, and passed one to her. His words. Did he have any clue at all at how incredibly sensual he sounded? He spoke freely from his heart, without any guile or prevarications. Something she was not used to in her dealings with men. Spence cleared his throat and raised his glass. Phil scrambled out of bed, then held hers up.
“Here’s to the bright new year and a fond farewell to the old. Here’s to the things that are yet to come and to the memories that we hold.” They clinked their glasses together. “A very Happy New Year, Philomena McGrattan.”
“And to you, Professor-Lord Spencer Hornsby.” Her voice was quiet, awed after his charming toast. Had he even heard her? They sipped the wine, and about to take another drink Spence whisked away the glasses and placed them on the table.
Taking her hand, he spun her around and placed her in front of him in a waltz position. “Now, we dance.” He twirled her about the room in breathtaking sweeping motions. Then, incredibly, he began to sing. Of course he could sing. How could he not with that astounding voice.
“Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne . ”
Phil did not know whether to laugh or cry. He sang Auld Lang Syne with the cadence and beat of the Blue Danube by Strauss.
“One-two-three- ‘ For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne, we’ll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne
Spence jumped to his feet. “Say no more. I shall ventured forth and obtain what we need.” He tore off the sheath and tossed it in the nearby basket, then stepped into his trousers.
Phil chuckled at his light-hearted mood, rolled over on her stomach, and leaned on an elbow. “You will find the wine and glasses on the counter in the kitchen. The tray is in the dining room as you will need it to bring us up a meal. Oh, do you know where the root cellar is?” He nodded. “Place the leftover food there to keep it from spoiling.”
Spence gave her a stunning smile. “Any other orders, my queen?”
She dismissed him airily with her hand. “I cannot think of anything at this moment, but I will let you know if I do.”
His laughter followed him out the door. Then he hummed God Save the Queen as he descended the stairs. Oh damn, how adorable. She did not lie or exaggerate at all when she stated he was an amazing lover. For his first try he certainly deserved a medal. The fact he would only improve saddened her as she would not be around to observe his progress.
Lord Spencer Hornsby was not perfect in either looks or temperament. But on this night, the last one of 1881, he came as close to utter flawlessness as a man could achieve. With a stretch of her arms, she rolled out of bed. After stirring the embers to life in the fireplace, she walked to the basin, cleaned up, and fastened the hooks on her corset. She crawled back onto the bed, tunneling under the plush quilt.
A few minutes later, Spence entered, carrying a tray with wine and food. Every woman should be waited on by such a man. How dangerously sexy and disheveled he appeared standing there shirtless, his trousers hanging low on his slim, muscular hips with his tousled golden-brown hair and his blue eyes shimmering with life and passion. A stab of yearning tore through her as she realized how she wanted a loving, caring man to wait on her, see to her every need, and hold her close when she required comfort and warmth. Shaking away the unrealistic fantasies, she gave him a tremulous smile.
Returning it, he placed the tray on the bed. “I believe we should ring in the new year now, this very minute.” He glanced at the mantel clock. “It is ten o’clock, close enough for a celebration.”
“You cannot wait another two hours?”
“Phil, the way I want to ring in the new year is by making love to you. At midnight, I will be inside you.” He removed the cork on the bottle, poured the wine into the goblets, and passed one to her. His words. Did he have any clue at all at how incredibly sensual he sounded? He spoke freely from his heart, without any guile or prevarications. Something she was not used to in her dealings with men. Spence cleared his throat and raised his glass. Phil scrambled out of bed, then held hers up.
“Here’s to the bright new year and a fond farewell to the old. Here’s to the things that are yet to come and to the memories that we hold.” They clinked their glasses together. “A very Happy New Year, Philomena McGrattan.”
“And to you, Professor-Lord Spencer Hornsby.” Her voice was quiet, awed after his charming toast. Had he even heard her? They sipped the wine, and about to take another drink Spence whisked away the glasses and placed them on the table.
Taking her hand, he spun her around and placed her in front of him in a waltz position. “Now, we dance.” He twirled her about the room in breathtaking sweeping motions. Then, incredibly, he began to sing. Of course he could sing. How could he not with that astounding voice.
“Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne . ”
Phil did not know whether to laugh or cry. He sang Auld Lang Syne with the cadence and beat of the Blue Danube by Strauss.
“One-two-three- ‘ For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne, we’ll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne
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