Page 131 of Three Weeks with a Princess
“I didn’t know you still had it,” she said.
“I carried it with me through the entire war. It was my good-luck piece.”
“But it brought you luck; are you sure you don’t wish to keep it?”
“I’m sure,” he said, gently cupping her cheek. “You’re my good-luck charm, Lia. I need no other.”
“You’re going to make me cry and I’ve already turned into a watering pot too often today.”
It had been such a wonderful, emotional day—her first proper Christmas at Stonefell—and she’d found herself choking up more than once.
“We can’t have that,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “I propose to take you to bed, where I can offer you a very powerful—and large—distraction.”
She snickered at his awful joke. “Very well, but do you mind if we step out on the terrace for a few minutes? I’d like to take a look at the stars before we go to bed.”
“It’s cold out there,” he said, apparently a bit puzzled by the request.
“I know, but we did it once before, remember? The night I gave you the coin, we stood on the terrace and listened to the carols.”
It was the night she’d wished on a star, hoping to be here someday with Jack, openly and happily in love.
“I remember,” he said. “No carols this evening, but we can still look at the stars.”
He led her to the French doors, taking a lap blanket off a chair on the way. They stepped out under a clear night sky lit up by a million stars, the universe’s jewels scattered across the inky void. Jack wrapped the blanket around them, pulling her into the shelter of his arms. The air was cold enough to tickle her lungs, but his big body kept her warm and safe.
Lia stared up at the glittering celestial arc, drinking in the deep happiness of the moment. “I missed this when we were in London. Most nights you could barely see the moon, much less the stars.”
For several moments they gazed upward, taking in the music of the spheres.
“Since we’re reminiscing, there’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Jack said.
She wriggled around to face him, enjoying the feel of his erection against her belly. When he sucked in a little breath, she couldn’t hold back a smug grin.
“And what is your question, my lord?”
“It’s about that demented idea you had to become a courtesan.”
She rolled her eyes. “It didn’t seem demented at the time. But that point aside, what would you like to know?”
“You gave me three weeks to decide whether to become your lover or help you find a protector, remember? You told me it was simply a nice, round figure, but I think there was more to it than that.”
She hid her face against his chest. “Yes, there was,” she said, her voice muffled. “But you’ll think it’s silly.”
He nudged her chin up. “I promise not to tease.”
“You’d better not, or you’ll find yourself sleeping on the chaise in my dressing room.”
“Forewarned is forearmed. Now, out with it, lady wife.”
“Very well. When I was a girl, I couldn’t wait for your visits to Stonefell. I even used to mark them on a little calendar I drew up. You came to visit three times a year and you always stayed for . . .”
“Three weeks,” he finished for her.
“Yes. Those were the happiest of times for me, when we were together—even though I’m sure I was a bother to you more than anything else. And I hated it when you left.” When he remained silent, she wrinkled her nose. “I told you it was silly.”
Silly that a little girl should pine so much for her only friend. Silly that she felt so lonely when he went away. Those three weeks always meant so much.
He bent down to kiss her. Lia melted against him as he gently brushed her lips, then slipped inside to taste her mouth with a delicious passion.
