Page 64 of Marry in Secret
“Hah!”
He eyed her warily. “Hah?”
“I knew you weren’t listening. Don’t you care what our home looks like?”
He grimaced. “Not really. No, no, I’m sorry, I don’t mean that, it’s just that—”
“You don’t care.”
He shrugged. “I’m sure whatever you decide will be perfect. Colors, curtains, carpets—I never notice stuff like that. As far as I’m concerned, the important thing about furniture—a bed, for instance—is not the carvings on the bedposts, or the hangings or the covers, only”—his expression was darkly intent—“who’s in it.”
She felt herself blushing. “Who’s in it?”
“Exactly.” He jerked his chin toward the line of doors down the hallway. “Which room was it that had that big bed in it with the blue hangings?”
She pointed. “That one—Thomas!” she shrieked as he scooped her up and marched purposefully toward the room she’d indicated.
“Hush, woman, I’m showing you what I mean about beds.”
Laughing, she wound her arms around his neck and kissed his chin. “I wondered how long it would take you.” She and Lily had earlier made up the bed with clean sheets, in expectation of just such an occasion.
“Four blasted years,” he muttered.
“Thomas!” She grabbed his chin and turned his face toward her. “It’s been four years for you?”
“Yes.”
She hugged him tightly. “Oh, Thomas, I’m so glad.”
“And you?” His voice was hesitant.
“Of course,” she said indignantly. “You were the only man I ever misbehaved with, and you’re still the only man I’ve ever wanted.” She tugged at his neckcloth and tossed it aside, then started on the buttons of his waistcoat.
“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had, you know.”
“And I wouldn’t have blamed you.” She hoped it was the truth, but when it came to Thomas she did have a jealous streak. She hugged him again. “But I’m so glad you didn’t.”
He kissed her, a hard swift kiss that sent shivers down her spine. “Ouch.”
“Ouch?” she queried.
He touched his mouth gingerly. “Forgot the split lip.” He kissed her again, more carefully.
“Oh, dear, yes, I forgot about the fight. Do you hurt anywhere else?” she asked anxiously.
A smile grew, starting in his eyes and curving his poor battered mouth. “Oh, dear yes, I have the most terrible ache,” he murmured. “Low down.” And she knew with a shiver of delight that it had nothing to do with the fight he’d had.
“Here?” she said, sliding her hand down to his stomach.
“Lower.” His voice was deep and husky.
They reached the bedroom; he kicked open the door and dropped her on the bed. She bounced slightly. “Comfortable?”
She looked up at him looming deliciously over her. “Notvery.” The mattress was rather lumpy now that she came to think of it.
He lay down beside her. “And now?”
“Hmm.” She pretended to consider. “A bit better.”
