Page 39 of The Seductive Love of a Lady
Instead of trying to pull Mary away from her family, he and Mary should have been lying in the crisp fresh snow of their life making angels.
It was the wrong time of year for snow…He laughed at his mental jest. Hay then. They ought to be in fields rolling in the hay.
He would repair this. He would make it right. He would try harder. He would be the person she needed.
He looked at the chair where he had been sleeping. It would do no harm if he shared their bed again. If he slept beside her he would know if she was ill again.
He stripped down to his shirt in the sitting room, so he would not disturb her. Then walked about the room snuffing out the candles. The last one, he picked up and carried into their bedchamber. She was facing the door, on the side of the bed he had always slept, her dark hair tumbling across his pillow, not plaited.
She had taken it over – his bed. His life. His body. His mind. His heart.
He was going to correct every mistake he had made. Every day, he would make sure she knew how he felt. He drew back the sheet, put the candle down on the chest beside the bed and slipped beneath the covers.
He turned and blew out the candle, wrapping them in darkness, then moved closer to her and rested a palm on her hip.
He fell asleep thinking of hay fields, and snow, and how he and Mary would spend their time when they found a property in the country.
19
When Mary woke the grey light said it was barely past dawn. For a moment she thought she was dreaming, but no, Andrew was in bed. He had lain flush against her back, and his palm held her stomach.
She rolled onto her side, looking at him.
He was awake. ‘I love you,’ he said. Speaking as though he had lain there for a long time looking at her. ‘I am sorry I am a fool.’
She had no idea what to say.
‘Has your headache gone?’
She nodded.
He kissed her temple, her cheek and the corner of her lips. He stroked the hair from her forehead. ‘I will do everything I can to show you I love you. I want to be the man you need. I missed you. I missed spending time with you.’
He leaned forward, his lips pursing. She accepted the kiss as his palm rested on her hip.
‘Do you forgive me?’ he asked. ‘May I make love to you?’
She did not answer.
He kissed her again, this time opening his mouth and using his tongue.
He must have assumed her answer was given by the kiss, because his fingers worked up her nightdress. She did not stop him. The thought of him being in her body again aroused her, desire swelling. It had been so long, and this would be the last time she could know him like this.
A moan of surprise slipped from her throat as his fingers touched between her legs.
She had longed to feel adored for all these days he had not come to her bed.
His teeth nipped at her neck.
He does not love me,she told herself. Yet, her body did not care. This had always worked between them, because when he touched her she believed in his love.
She shut her eyes. She should tell him to stop, but she could not. She wanted to know his lovemaking this one last time.
I love him even if he does not love me. Even if it is a lie, it will be precious to me.It would be one last memory to keep hold of.
His fingers slid into her, only for a moment, before he straightened up and stripped off his shirt. She sat up and removed her chemise.
His own personal musky scent hung in the air as he kissed a path down between her breasts and across her stomach. She shut her eyes tight, she did not want to look at his eyes and see the lies they carried.
