He collapsed onto her, his body slick with sweat, and she wrapped him in an embrace, nuzzling his ear as the waves of pleasure subsided.

“Mmm,” she said in a low murmur, “that was excellent.”

They were sticky and sweaty and exhausted, and she had never been more content in her life.

His mouth was kissing her neck, and she could feel it when he smiled. “It was, wasn’t it?”

He sounded entirely self-satisfied, and for once she couldn’t fault him for his arrogance. It was a truly spectacular bout of lovemaking.

“Let’s rest a bit and then do it again,” he said, tucking his face into her shoulder, his hand stroking her hip.

“Again?” she said in surprise. She hadn’t realized—but then again, he was remarkable in so many ways.

“Of course again.” He licked her neck. “I want to taste you, Della.”

Her eyes widened as she realized what he was saying. She hadn’t ever done that before. Or, more correctly, hadn’t ever had that done to her before.

And here she thought she knew everything about it.

She couldn’t wait to see what he had to teach her.

“Did my competency please you, my lady?” He couldn’t keep the smug tone from his voice. Nor did she likely want him to; she had made her satisfaction with him abundantly and loudly clear.

So loud, in fact, he was grateful it was the middle of the day and likely fewer patrons at the inn he’d taken her to. He wouldn’t want to expose her to the embarrassment of a noise complaint.

He was lying on his side, his hand resting idly on her breast, thumbing her nipple as he gazed his fill at her nakedness. She didn’t seem to be bothered by his appraisal; she was returning it, in fact, having spent a quarter of an hour resting on his backside tracing his tattoo with her fingers.

If he had known she would be so enamored of it he would have considered getting a tattoo on his cock. Although she hadn’t lost interest in that either, so perhaps it wasn’t necessary.

She laughed, smacking him on the arm. “My lord Arrogance,” she said in a possessive tone of voice.

“I am yours, my lady.”

He didn’t intend for his words to sound so serious, but there they were, emerging as though he were committing to something.

She frowned, and he felt his breath hitch.

“Thank you for finding Mr. Wattings,” she said at last. His chest eased.

“Do we still have a bargain?” he asked.

She gazed up at him, a smirk on her lips. “Which bargain do you mean? The one where I keep you company to hold the ladies off, or the one where we agree to explore our mutual attraction?”