Page 121 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

Occupied cuddling and calming Trifle, Charlotte gazed over to find Simon lying on his side, facing away from her. “Simon? You were going to say something.”

He answered her with a soft snore.

Resigned, Charlotte stretched out next to him, snuggling Trifle between them. “Maybe I don’t want to know. But you love me, don’t you, Trifle?”

The cat purred and burrowed under her chin.

“Thank you,” she whispered in the dark.

Guilt souredSimon’s stomach as he squeezed his eyes shut and feigned sleep. Charlotte’s exhortation to promise to be truthful with each other ate away at him. Of course, he wouldn’t lie to her. But was it dishonest to withhold information as well?

What purpose would it serve to tell Charlotte he loved her? Would it make her uncomfortable because she didn’t return his love? Would she say the words back and not mean them? And which would hurt more? Questions banged around in his skull.

No. Trifle had saved him from an egregious misstep, giving him time to remember Charlotte’s earlier declaration:And thank goodness you don’t love me.

Damn her to use my words back at me!

Charlotte didn’t want his love. And what was love if not striving to make the other person happy? Hell if he knew.

Damn! Damn! Damn!

No wonder he avoided the cursed emotion for so long. The bloody thing was damn messy.

Resolved to prove his love by keeping his feelings to himself, he tried to sleep. Perhaps all would be clear in the morning.

A new day, a new start, a new adventure.

Trifle’s soft fur brushed his back, the kitten purring contentedly between him and his wife.

Would there always be something between them, keeping them from a true marriage?

He pushed the painful thought from his mind, seeking and gradually finding the bliss of sleep.

Lost in pleasant dreams, Simon startled awake when something smacked him in the head. “Ooof!”

Meow. Perched on his head, Trifle’s little face looked down at him. Her tiny paw—claws extended—stretched out for his cheek.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he whispered, snatching the kitten up and away from his face.

The delicious warmth pressed against him moaned.

Fully alert, he gazed down at the arm wrapped around his waist. Charlotte’s hand draped low across him, skimming his morning erection as she snuggled closer.

Even in her sleep, she was wanton. Would she be recovered enough for a repeat performance of the previous night’s activities? Before he could ponder it further, Trifle meowed again.

“We both need the necessary, eh, girl?”

Charlotte stirred again at his whispered question, and Simon put his finger to his lips as if Trifle would understand the gesture. Gently—and reluctantly—lifting Charlotte’s hand from his body, he carefully scooted off the bed, kitten tucked securely in his arms.

After cracking the door to allow Trifle out, Simon strode to the water closet and relieved himself. As he pulled on his trousers, Charlotte stirred again, her arm reaching out as if searching for him.

When his stomach growled, he padded to the window and tugged back the curtain enough to peek out.

Low on the horizon, the sun poked up its bright head. The storm had cleared completely. Puddles on the wet ground bore witness to the torrent that had tormented Charlotte the night before.

Simon turned back, gazing at his sleeping wife. The bed linens had slipped down seductively, exposing her bare back yet covering her gorgeous derrière. Dark hair fanned out on the pillow and flowed down her back unfettered. Sprawled out before him like a feast, his wanton goddess made his mouth water.

How different she looked from the woman he’d first met. Prim and proper in every appearance and every action, Lady Charlotte Talbot never had a hair out of place or bow untied. She wore her icy demeanor like armor, deterring anyone from coming too close and seeing therealCharlotte and shielding her from harm.

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