Page 91 of The Duke and the Scarred Bride

“I love you, Louisa,” he said suddenly. “Much more than I could hope to express.”

Her heart swelled at the confession, and she kissed him back.

How had she ever thought he was repulsed by her?

“Take me to bed, husband.”

She giggled as he lifted her out of the tub, barely letting her breathe out her surprise before he took her lips in a kiss.

As Percival watched his wife sleep, he couldn’t help but smile at the soft frown on her face as she held tightly onto his arm. He wondered what it was that she was dreaming about that had put such a look on her face.

He resisted the urge to kiss her forehead, as he knew she would wake up and scold him for doing so, when they had barely slept.

She breathed deeper, moving even closer to him, and he felt his desire for her stir again. He wondered why he could never get enough of her even after the many times they had made love yesterday.

Even more so, he was shocked when he realized it was already dark outside. Somehow, he too had slept, and to his surprise, if he hadn’t been roused from his sleep by his growling stomach, he would have slept even longer.

He wanted to laugh, but he held it in.

He had finally slept without being haunted by the nightmares that had plagued his waking and sleeping hours since he had returned to London. He looked down at his sleeping wife again, unable to deny that somehow she had helped him forget the burdens he had been holding on to.

Her eyes opened, startling him, and he hoped he hadn’t woken her up. She smiled at him, looking so beautiful that his heart stuttered in his chest. He couldn’t help the smile that threatened to split his face in two.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, kissing her forehead.

She shook her head, burying her hands in his hair. “No. I just felt like I had done nothing but sleep today.” She laughed.

“Youhavedone other things,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

She slapped his shoulder, sitting up. “That is all you ever think about.”

“Only because I am thinking about you.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “When did you become so sweet, darling husband?”

“I have always been sweet,” he answered, pretending to be offended.

She shot him a look and then nodded her concession. “I won’t argue with you.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked, rising from the bed. “I feel like I could eat a horse.”

“I’m in the mood for a race,” she announced, beaming. “If I lose, I’ll make us a plate, and if you lose, you will.”

She rose quickly and donned a night gown, wrapping a robe about herself, smiling when she felt him hug her from behind. She turned to face her husband, wrapping her hands around his neck, burying her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

Percival smirked against her lips, nipping softly.

“You do realize I have the upper hand,” he pointed out. “You still get lost on the way to your chambers. How do you expect to win this game?”

“Like this,” she announced, before taking off.

He threw back his head and laughed at how playful she was.

With her in his life, he knew there would be no room for the darkness of his past. She was a breath of fresh air, bringing life to the formerly cold halls of his home.

Watching her run down the hallway, laughing without a care in the world, he couldn’t help but smile. She would teach him to be young and happy again without even knowing it.

He decided to compete and laughed when he heard her protest behind him.

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