Page 14 of Leon
She spread her hands over his chest and stared at the sparkle shooting from the ring he had placed there. "I keep wondering if you're going to get impatient and find someone else."
"I do get impatient, but as for finding someone else, that's never going to happen. You're it for me."
Her heart went into overdrive, and she tried her best to quell the feeling of impending doom. He was Leon Whitlock, and she knew his reputation with women in the past. That was what was keeping her up at night—well, mostly that.
"Promise?" she asked lightly.
His thick blonde brows lifted as he studied her face. "I would also like to think that I have your absolute trust."
"You do," she said sincerely. "Of course, you do." She lifted a hand to cup his jaw. "When I look at you—and I do often—the pictures we took on our wedding day and the ones after that, I see a man who can get any woman he wants."
"When I gaze at your photos—and I have a ton of them stored in my phone—I see a woman who lights up a room." Sliding his fingers through her hair, he cupped the back of her head. "Men stare at you wherever you go, so I'd say we're pretty much even."
"Not really. You not only have looks, but you also have the money to go with it. I was just an administrative assistant—"
"Please don't do that." His voice was quiet with a hint of steel running through it. "Don't put yourself down, not to me. I happen to know how brilliant your mind is. How incredibly efficient you are. And even if that were not the case, I would love you regardless because I was born to love you."
Tears clogged her throat. "I was wrong."
"About?"
"The poetry. It seems you have it down pat."
"Are we finished talking?"
"I think we are. Why?"
"Because I would like to make love to my wife."
"I would like that very much."
Long after she had fallen asleep, sprawled on his chest, he was still up and staring into the dying embers of the fire. He contemplated getting up and adding more wood chips. The room was warm enough, and soon he was going to carry her inside the bedroom. But not now. He had worn her out. Tipping his head down, he studied her beloved face. He would like to believe that he knew every facet of her. He could close his eyes and tell the exact shape and color of her eyes. He knew the texture of her skin, the shape of her mouth and nose. He knew her body the way he knew his own. He had explored it often enough to be intimate with every detail.
He was familiar with the sound of her voice. The sounds she made when she was climaxing. The taste of her breasts, the muskiness of her when he went down on her. What made her tingle and tremble. He knew it all because he had studied and explored, like a man discovering land for the first time. He had charted his territory. She was his—completely and utterly his. He knew she had been in only two serious relationships and was jealous of even that.
He had wanted to be her one and only. Selfish, yes, but love was irrational. Especially the kind of love they shared. He wanted her all the time. It was not just the physical aspect, but he loved her mind. She had an amazing wit and the ability to make him forget himself. She was not after him for his money—a smile touched his lips at that. The memory of how frustrated he was by her scant regard for his wealth amused him. He was intrigued by her. And was so far gone that there was no turning back for him.
He brushed his lips on the top of her head. He had promised her that they would make it work. What had happened between their parents had nothing to do with them. Over time, he was going to have to convince her of that. But for now, he was going to adhere to her wishes and go along with the secrecy. But he knew there would come a time when that would end. And when that time came, no amount of persuasion from her was going to change his mind. She was his wife, and her place was next to him.
*****
The rain, which had dragged on for most of the night, had washed everything clean and dropped the temperature drastically. Kadian woke up to see a weak sun filtering through the curtains and the place beside her empty. When had he brought her into the bedroom? Sitting up, she dragged a hand through her hair, wincing at the tangles. It was going to take a hell of a lot of time to get the tangles out.
Shrugging that off, she swung her legs off the bed and went to put on her jacket. He had fed the fire in the hearth, and the room was toasty warm. Knotting the string around her narrow waist, she shoved her feet into the fuzzy bed slippers and left the room to go and hunt for him.
The scent of coffee hit her and had her saliva flowing. He was seated at the dining table with a cup of coffee in his hands. His attention was on something outside the window, and he did not hear her approaching. Leaning on the jamb, she took the time to admire him, a smile tugging at her lips. He had showered and was wearing a thick black sweater over faded denims. His hair was tousled, a lock of it falling over his forehead. And he was mouthwateringly gorgeous. And hers. All hers.
As if sensing her presence, he turned his head and saw her standing there. Her heart simply shattered at the pleasure that lit up his face. Gone was the pensive expression. He reached out a hand, and she went to him immediately, settling on his lap when he tugged her down.
"I did not want to wake you." He kissed her lips softly.
"Hmm. Good morning."
"It is now." He pleasured himself by kissing her again and taking it up several notches. Easing away, he brushed back her hair. "I went into town."
"Without me?"
"I wanted to get us breakfast and check on the caretaker. He's still under the weather."
