Page 104 of The Miracle of Love
“They will welcome you with open arms. I have no doubt of it. The Duke of Wooton might not take it quite so well, but he will come around in time. In any event, he has nothing to grouse about. England is safe. King Stanislaus is happy he got his crown back. None of it would have been possible without you. Who knows? Wooton might even offer you a position as a Crown agent.”
Her eyes glittered with mirth. “Oh, he’ll never ask me. I think he likes having you all to himself, an agent with undivided allegiance to the Crown and answering only to him.”
Deklan’s chuckle was more of a groan. “No, love. I give him fits with every assignment. I never answer to him as he wishes me to do. Indeed, I will continue to ignore his wishes if I deem them foolish. No one tells me how to handle an assignment when it comes to my service for the Crown. If anything, he is relieved you have managed to tame me. It gives him hope that someday he might, too.”
“Will he?”
“Probably not. You, on the other hand, can always tell me what to do.”
“Nonsense. I wouldn’t, unless you were completely dense about something important.”
“Grace, I bought a house and did not even tell my own mother. I think that qualifies me as dense.”
She chuckled. “All right, I see your point. I’ll tug on your leopard leash and bring you to heel if it should happen again.”
He stretched his legs and leaned back against the squabs, looking quite relaxed. “I like having a wife.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Just any wife?”
“No, love. I would not bind myself into eternity with anyone but you. Marriage to anyone else would feel like a noose pulled taut around my neck. With you, I feel as though I have landed in a soft bed of rose petals. Speaking of bed…”
That night, Grace watched Deklan slowly disrobe by the soft light of their hearth fire. Their inn was another charming one, built of sturdiest stone and existing for centuries. The guest chamber they occupied was their finest and contained every amenity for their comfort.
She held her breath as Deklan removed his shirt with casual ease, his muscles taut and flexing as he lifted the garment off his shoulders and over his head in one fluid motion.
He tossed the shirt aside, leaving him only wearing breeches.
Blessed mother.
She had only a vague idea of what the act of love entailed, but she was hungry for it with this man. Perhaps standing by firelight enhanced his features, for his body appeared sculpted bronze amid the flames and shadows.
Oh, my heavens.
Her heart beat faster as he prowled toward her with slow, determined steps.
His attention remained fixed on her as he put his hot, rugged hands on her body and began to remove the last of her clothing. She sighed as his supple fingers worked the lacings of her corset. She melted when he slid the rough pads of his palms up her thighs to lift the chemise off her.
She expired from anticipation when he put his lips to the peak of her breast and began to slowly lick it.
He had given her a taste of passion that one time on Christmas morning and the memory of it was enough to turn her wanton.
The heat of it still scorched her.
Was there an inch of her not ignited?
“Deklan,” she whispered, running her hands over his body. She felt the outline of thin scars, noticeably pale against his golden skin. There were also a few thicker scars, puckered and pink, perhaps still raw. These were the result of deeper, more serious wounds. “Do they hurt you?”
He took her hand and placed a soft kiss on each of her fingers and then along her wrist. “No, love.”
Up close, his muscles seemed daunting.
Touching them was like touching granite stone.
They stood facing each other, nothing between them but sparks of attraction that filled the air and drew them inexorably closer.
His snake was plainly visible and she stared at its sinuous form, fascinated by the way it wrapped around his thigh and the thick heat of its tail.
Her eyes widened.
