The Reclaiming of Ivy Leavold (Markham Hall Book 4) Read Free

glowing recommendation of her.”
    Some strange woman was going to take care of my baby? No. No, I didn’t like that idea at all. What if he needed to nurse while she was with him? What if he needed to nap and she didn’t know the way he liked to be rocked by the window?
    No, that would not do, but the moment I opened my mouth to protest, Julian was down on the floor with me, his hand clamped over my mouth so I couldn’t speak.
    “Now, I know that you aren’t about to contradict me, Mrs. Markham.” He leaned forward to speak in my ear. “George is my son, my heir. Do you really think that I would entrust him to someone who wasn’t completely vouched for and completely capable? Do you really think that my love for him is so much less than yours?”
    I suddenly felt ashamed. Julian was right. He wouldn’t hire a nurse that couldn’t care for George as well as we could. And George was old enough that he could easily go without nursing for an hour.
    He released his hand from my mouth. “For this one hour, wildcat, you will be completely mine. To do with what I want. Your mind and your heart and your body. They will be with me and nowhere else. Is that clear?”
    I nodded, and another crack sounded through the air. I moaned.
    “I want to hear your voice. Now answer me—are my directions clear?”
    “Yes,” I whispered.
    “Good. Now stand up. It’s time to get dressed.”
    “Dressed?” I whimpered, knowing what that meant. That meant no relief for the swollen ache between my legs.
    “I won’t ask again.”
    I stood unhappily, as he went and gathered my clothes. He dressed me then, and with a casualness that was almost cruel, he let his hands graze against my sensitive skin as he worked. His fingers brushed past my stiff nipples, lingered around my thighs, and after he laced my nursing corset tight, he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into him, so that my back was pressed to his front, his erection grinding against my ass.
    He wrapped his fingers in my hair and yanked my head to one side, and then he bent forward and scored the skin there with his teeth, biting and sucking and nibbling from my ear to my collarbone until I was slumped against him, knees weak and panting hard.
    And just as quickly as it started, it stopped, his wicked mouth moving away from my neck. I whimpered again, but he paid me no mind, tugging a dress over my body and deftly wrapping my hair into an elaborate bun, which he quickly pinned up.
    “I have some business to attend to in Scarborough today, so I won’t be back until dinner,” he told me, stepping away and eyeing my form, as if to admire his handiwork. “Bessie Knope, the nurse, will be here shortly before dinner, and I’ve already directed our housekeeper to acquaint her with the house and George’s nursery when she arrives. All I require is that you be in the dining room at seven. Understood?”
    “Yes.”
    He gave a short nod and grabbed his jacket from where it had been slung over the chair. He walked out of the room, pausing only to drop a tender, affectionate kiss on the sleeping George’s forehead, and then I was alone.

    Bessie Knope ended up being precisely the person I would have myself hired to take care of George. She was a plump, patient woman in her fifties, and when she took a squirming George into her arms and started crooning to him in a soft, playful voice, the pair bonded so quickly that I almost felt jealous. But any jealousy I might have felt was immediately quashed by the insatiable, unbearable lust that had dogged me all day. More than anything, I wanted Julian to come home, drag me into the library, and fuck me until I was too sore to walk.
    That’s not what happened.
    At seven, right after nursing George and handing him off to Bessie, I sat in the dining room, my heart pumping fast. I wanted Julian—I wanted Julian’s body—but I was also nervous. Wary. A little frightened of him even. And that made me want him all the more.
    But when he came