Page 80 of Wicked Rivals
A wry smile curved his lips. “No. They were happy enough with rewards of flowers. Something befitting a temporary relationship.”
Rosalind laughed. “Ah yes, the infamous Lennox technique—leave only pleasant memories behind. Even I have heard of that.” But this had shown there was another side to him, one he hid from the entire world. A man of passions and desires that lay beneath that cool exterior. When he took her into his arms, she could taste that hunger for life upon his lips and feel it in the heat of his hands, held at bay through discipline and perhaps even fear.
“I suppose Emily has spilled all my secrets during one of your afternoon teas?”
“Certainly not. She sang only your praises. But other womendotalk. And you are quite a topic of discussion for some of them.”
His lips thinned in irritation. “I readily admit I’m not a natural wooer. I know what is expected of me, of course, but those are mere formalities. True wooing should come from somewhere more genuine, and in that regard my instincts are sorely lacking. But I have every intent to woo you as you should be.”
“Well, in that case, I might let you.” She stared at the necklace again and then reached for it. He lifted it out of her immediate reach.
“Allow me the honor.”
Smiling, Rosalind turned her back to him and sat patiently, though her heart was hammering against her ribs.
Ashton laid the necklace against her throat and fastened the clasp. She touched the stones, and his hand covered hers.
“Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
His lips curved. “I’m sure you have lots of jewelry.”
“True. But none that holds such importance,” she assured him. “When my mother died, I wasn’t allowed to keep anything of hers. My father sold everything, even her clothes.” She admitted this painfully, each word hurting as she let herself remember the past. “Henry bought me a few jewels, but I never wished for him to spend money on them and asked him to stop. I had convinced myself I did not deserve them.”
Ashton frowned. “You deserve whatever joys the world chooses to give you, as well as those you make for yourself.”
“His greatest gift to me was helping me see that.”
Ashton moved to sit beside her on the bench in front of his dressing table and cupped her face in his hands.
“This will be a new beginning for us, a chance to start over, as partners, not rivals.”
He dipped his head and slanted his mouth over hers, the kiss full of tenderness and passion that left her muddleheaded. She could have kissed him like that forever, slow, sensual, and yet infinitely sweet as they explored each other.
When they finally parted, both were breathing a little heavily, and Rosalind’s body ached for more of what that kiss had promised. Ashton continued to gaze almost dreamily at her mouth. It felt so wonderful to be the center of his focus and his hunger.
“Every time I kiss you I think it cannot be better than the last one, yet every time you surprise me.” His soft words stirred heated longings inside her, not just for lovemaking but for other lost wishes as well.
She stared up into his eyes and bravely opened her heart. “When I was a young girl, I used to dream about this, a man who would say what you just said.” She could feel the tears burning in her eyes, but they were happy tears. “Mayhap the dream is not as lost as I had feared.”
Ashton cupped her chin and nodded. “Nor is mine.”
She wondered what Ashton’s dream was, but she was afraid he would not tell her.Maybe someday he will tell me all that lies in his heart.
Perhaps their marriage wouldn’t be a disaster after all.
“Ashton?” she asked.
“Hmm?” His hand had moved to her neck and was gently stroking down her throat in a feathery caress.
“I don’t suppose you’d let me invite my brothers to the wedding?” She was only teasing, but Ashton seemed to consider it seriously.
“If you wish. Are you in contact with them?”
She shook her head. “Not since I left Scotland. Brock knew once I left I had to stay out of my father’s sight and mind. Even if I married, my father might still wish to harm me or drag me back home. He is a wretched man. He never wanted me around, but he never wanted me to be free of him, either. To him, I was his property.”
Ashton closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “Now that you are mine, I’ll protect you from the world if I have to. Don’t let him cause you one more moment of fear.”
She curled her fingers around his wrists. This time, being “his” did not sound like a possession of property, but a promise of something better. She felt safe, secure and even excited at the affection he was showing towards her. It was what she’d received from her first husband, and yet she had a feeling Ashton’s affections ran even deeper. It made her think of an old Scottish ballad her mother used to sing.“My laird’s love is dark and deep, and ’ere he watches over me, this laird of the keep.”
