Page 57 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman
‘I love you also,’ he replied, thrusting heavily into her, his pelvis striking hers. He withdrew and thrust again, and again, working towards his own end. Then the storm swept in, clasping every muscle. He withdrew and spilled his seed on her stomach, breathing hard, his arms trembling.
When he returned from heaven, he tumbled on to his back beside her, shaking the mattress. ‘I love you very much too,’ he said into the darkness, his senses clamouring.
She turned to her side and kissed his temple, then rested her head on his chest as his arm wrapped about her. Her leg came across his thigh and her hand lay on his stomach, making a pillow of his body.
30
The grey light of dawn leaked through the window shutters when Rob opened his eyes. It took a second or two to remember why he felt something heavy on him. Caro. She lay still, half across him.
He breathed in and smelled the lavender perfume in her hair.
He remained still for a while as the room lightened in slow degrees; listening to her breathe.
But she had to leave. The servants would be waking.
His fingertips brushed across her cheek. ‘Caro.’
She did not wake.
He leaned up so her head slid on to the mattress, then pressed a kiss on her lips. ‘Caro.’
Her eyelids flickered, then lifted.
His thumb brushed her cheek. ‘Good morning, sweetheart.’
Her eyes were pools of liquid gold. Her hand rested against his cheek. ‘Am I dreaming?’
‘No.’
‘You are more beautiful in the morning,’ she said, her eyes studying his face. ‘You might look nice with a beard, the first growth suits you.’
His thumb touched her chin. ‘You are always beautiful.’
She smiled.
‘Would you believe that I saw this for us on the day of John’s garden party,’ he said. ‘I saw you as a remarkable woman then, and I knew if you were happy again you would be even more beautiful.’
‘You will meet a hundred other women in London,’ she said, ‘and forget me.’
‘I will never forget you.’
She had said she did not want promises; if he married now he would become dependent on his income from John. He could not speak now. He had nothing to give her but his body. They were both penniless dependents, he could not build a life living off others. He would not offer her that. He brushed a lock of hair back and tucked it behind her ear.
‘You need to go to your room, darling, the servants must be up.’
She sighed, expressing her unwillingness.
He laughed. ‘Much as I would love an encore, you know it would be a mistake, you would feel awful if anyone saw you leave my room.’
She rose and bent down, reaching for her nightdress and picking it up from the floor.
‘We will see each other again in a few weeks,’ he said.
She smiled at him, before sliding the nightdress over her head. ‘I know.’
The fabric sheathed her body.
He climbed from the bed and stood in front of her. ‘This is our private goodbye. I will not be able to say things later. I have fallen in love with you?—’
