She was silent, but he heard or perhaps simply sensed her approach.
“I’m not sure I can ever forget your dalliances with other women. Nor the fact that you never came after me, never attempted a proper marriage with me, never fought for me.”
His stomach twisted. “I understand.”
She was silent for a long moment then she took a deep breath. “But I might possibly be able to forgive you.”
He nodded. “Well, I do know now how you felt.”
“I suspect it was worse for me than for you.”
“I doubt it.” He started to turn.
“No, wait, please don’t turn around.”
He paused.
“This is difficult enough without having to face you.”
“Go on.” He held his breath. Was she about to confess something he’d prefer not to hear?
“Yes, well, you see, it was harder for me because I was—” resignation sounded in her voice “—I am in love with you.”
“Are you?” His heart leaped.
“I’m afraid so.” She huffed. “And I’m rather tired of pretending that I’m not. I’ve been telling myself that I wasn’t in love with you for six years. Apparently to no avail.”
“You needn’t sound so distraught.” In the back of his mind he noted how calm and collected he sounded, as if this was a conversation of no particular importance. Interesting, as he was not the least bit calm or collected. Indeed, he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so, well, overjoyed in his entire life.
“This is difficult, James.” She drew a deep breath. “I too have my pride. I have just confessed my feelings to you. Honesty is not the least bit easy, you know.”
“I am all too aware of that.” He smiled slowly. “Perhaps I can make it easier.”
“I doubt that.” Her brow furrowed as if she were making a decision, then she nodded. “I’m going back to bed now.” She swiveled and left the room before he could stop her. The door closed firmly behind her.
“Bloody hell.” He moved to the door. “Let me in, Violet.”
“I’m going to bed, James.”
He tried the door handle and pushed the door open. “If you want to keep someone out, locking the door is a good idea.”
She stood near the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t think you’d be so impolite as to follow me. You’ve never been good at following.”
“And yet here I am. It seems to me we have a great deal to talk about.”
“And it seems to me there’s nothing more to say.” She shrugged.
He moved toward her. “Don’t you want to know what I think? You certainly had a lot to say when I confessed to you about the incident.”
“That was different.” She waved off his comment. “That was something you did, not something you felt.”
“Still, aren’t I allowed the courtesy of a reply?”
“Yes, I suppose.” She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Go on then, say whatever it is you wish to say.”
He stepped closer. “I simply think it’s a remarkable coincidence, that’s all.”
“A coincidence? What on earth do you mean by that?”
“It’s quite simple, my dear wife. My Violetta.” He pulled her into his arms. “I am in love with you, too. I suspect I always have been.”
Her breath caught. “You needn’t say that if you don’t mean it. If you’re just saying that to keep me abiding by the terms of the will. It’s not necessary.”
“Oh, but I think it is. And I mean every word.” He gazed into her endless green eyes. “The inheritance means nothing without you. You are the true prize. I’ve known it for quite some time.”
Her eyes widened.
“I was a fool not to come after you, not to try to win you back long before now. Not to fight for you. It was stubborn and stupid of me. Uncle Richard knew we belonged together. As do I.”
“James, I—”
Before she could say another word, he pressed his lips to hers. She froze for no more than an instant, then her arms slid around his neck. He gathered her closer, the heat of her body searing him through her clothes and his. Her mouth opened to his and she tasted of rich red wine and starry skies and forever after.
She pulled away. “Good Lord, James.” For an endless moment she stared up at him. “We’ve wasted a lot of time.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
VIOLET PULLED HIM closer and again met his lips with hers. An awful ache of need and desire and longing swept through her. She clung to him, desperate for the taste of him, reveling in the heat of his body pressed to hers. He slanted his mouth over hers, deepening their kiss, her tongue tangling with his. A tiny voice in the back of her head whispered at last.
He wrenched his lips from hers to trail kisses along the line of her jaw, and she moaned softly. Her head fell back and he rained kisses down her neck to the base of her throat in a sensual exploration, as if he wanted to taste every inch of her. His hands roamed over the contours of her back and drifted lower to caress her derriere through the silk of her robe. A shiver of pure hunger raced through her and she pressed her hips tighter against him, the evidence of his arousal hard against her stomach. Oh God, she wanted this, wanted him. She clutched at his shoulders, reveling in the feel of hard muscle beneath the silk of his dressing gown.
She raised her head and shifted to place her lips at the hollow of his throat. He groaned with need, the sound vibrating through her and wrapping around her soul. She slid her hands over his chest, opening the dressing gown to the exploration of her lips and her touch. He tasted of heat and spice and promises as yet unmade.
Her fingers fumbled with the sash tied at his waist until it fell free and her hands moved lower to lightly caress the hot hard length of his erection.
“Violet.” He caught her hand, and she looked up at him. His eyes burned with a reflection of her own desire. “There is no turning back from this.”
“I don’t want to turn back.” She pulled her hand free, untied her sash and let her kimono fall to the floor in a puddle of silk at her feet. She’d never stood naked in front of him before. Or in front of any man, for that matter. She pushed aside a momentary twinge of doubt. No, she raised her chin and gazed into his eyes. She wanted this. Wanted him.
His eyes darkened as if he realized she’d come to talk to him with only a whisper of silk between them. She rested her hand on his chest and gazed up at him. “Do you?”
“Never.” The word was barely more than a murmur, as if saying even a word required effort he refused to squander. He shrugged off his dressing gown, sank down on the edge of the bed and pulled her between his legs. “I want to worship you.”
He cupped her breasts in his hands, feasting on one then the other until her nails dug into his shoulders and her eyes rolled back in her head and her knees threatened to collapse. And she realized the odd, whimpering sound in the room came from her.
“James,” she whispered. “Please...”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto the bed in a tangle of arms and legs, of hunger and demand. Need, urgent and unrelenting, consumed her and all restraint between them shattered. His hands, her lips were everywhere at once. An exploration—no, a conquest of taste and touch and merciless sensation. Tension coiled deep within her and she wanted—no, she needed—no, she demanded more. Her body, her very being was frantic for the feel of his heated flesh beneath her fingers, against her tongue. She stroked him, and he groaned against her neck. He slid his hand between her legs, and she could feel her own wet, slick need as his fingers caressed her. She moaned, and her back arched upward and she pressed against his hand.
He slid down her body, his mouth searing a trail over her, teasing her with lips and tongue and teeth. Until his head rested between her legs and his tongue flicked over that center of sensation only she had ever touched.
“Oh, God, James,” she cried, her hips raising up to meet his mouth. Dear Lord, he hadn’t done this on their wedding night. Why in the hell not? Her fingers tunneled through his hair and her very being narrowed to the unexpected pleasure and sheer torture of his tongue and his mouth claiming her.
When she thought she would surely die of the merciless onslaught of his mouth, when she hovered at the edge of something unknown, something the aching tightness with her yearned for, he stopped and shifted his body over her. The hard hot length of him pressed against her. And she quivered with the need, so long denied, to have him inside her. And the oddest moment of clarity seized her.
“Wait!”
“Wait?” Sheer disbelief shone in his dark eyes, glazed with passion and need. “Now you want me to wait?”
“I just thought you should know...” He was right. This was not the time. Still... “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”
He smiled into her eyes. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, too.”
“Oh, well, then.” She brushed her lips against his. “Carry on.”
His lips crushed hers and he guided himself into her. Her muscles tensed. It had been somewhat painful the first time they had done this. Since then, of course, she had been told it was only painful once. She wasn’t entirely sure she believed it.
He slid into her with a slow, measured stroke as if he knew how very inexperienced she really was, and her tension eased. She was certainly tight but there wasn’t so much as a twinge of pain. She’d nearly forgotten how odd the feeling was of him being inside her, filling her. Odd and...good. He pulled back and thrust into her again, his movements unhurried and deliberate, which only served to fuel her impatience. She wanted—needed—more. She wrapped her legs around his and rolled her hips against him, and their rhythm increased.
She urged him on faster and deeper, and let herself be carried away by the throbbing sensation deep inside her. Her blood pulsed in her veins, her heart thudded in her chest and her breath came faster. And oh, dear Lord. She didn’t remember it as being this all-consuming. This intense. Everything that was Violet vanished, replaced by a creature who lived only for the exquisite joy of their joining. Who existed only in the heat of his body searing hers, the feel of him inside her and the ever-tightening tension within her.
He thrust into her again and again, faster and deeper and harder. Until that coil inside her exploded with release and waves of pure pleasure rushed through her. Her body quaked against him and her back arched and she cried out his name. And through it all she felt his body tense and then shudder and her name sounded like a prayer on his lips. “Violetta.”
And she realized with a certainty she’d never known before, together was where they belonged, where they’d always belonged.
Uncle Richard was right.
FOR A LONG moment they lay silently, too spent to so much as move. At last he lifted his head, smiled down at her, kissed her gently, then shifted to lie by her side.
“Good God, James.” She blew a long breath. “That was remarkable.”
He chuckled. “Indeed it was.”
“I don’t recall it being quite that earth-shattering the last time.”
“You don’t?” he said slowly.
“Not at all. Oh, it was pleasant enough.” She drew her brows together. “A bit uncomfortable at first if I remember correctly, but nice.”
“Nice?” he repeated.
“Well, I’d never done it before. I would think nice is really a rousing endorsement.”
His brow shot upward. “Nice is an endorsement?”
It was all she could do not to laugh at the indignant look on his face. “A rousing endorsement.”
“And tonight?”
“My dear, silly man.” She hooked her leg over his and rolled on top of him, folding her arms on his chest and staring into his eyes. “This was so much better than nice.”
“Good.” He didn’t sound at all convinced.
“You did all sorts of things I never imagined you might do.” She thought for a moment. “Certainly they had sounded interesting but—”
He frowned. “Just who have you been talking to?”
“Friends, other women. You know how women like to share.”
“Apparently, I had no idea,” he said wryly.
“But I do think by anyone’s assessment this was remarkable. Of course, my lack of experience might play a part in my appraisal.” She leaned forward and nibbled on his bottom lip. “After all, my only previous experience was nice.”
Beneath her, his body tensed. He drew back and stared at her. “So, am I to take that to mean you’ve only done this with me?”
“Surprised?”
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “You do know I thought you’d had lovers.”
“Of course I do.” She widened her eyes innocently. “I know you’ve had lovers.”
“Yes, well, mine didn’t mean anything.”
She leaned and kissed the hollow at the base of his throat. “I’m confident if I’d had lovers, they wouldn’t have meant anything, either.”
“No,” he said gruffly. “They probably would have meant a great deal. You’re not the sort of woman to sleep with men you didn’t care about.”
She raised her head and gazed into his eyes. “Goodness, James, you do say the sweetest things.”
“I’m serious, Violet.” His brow furrowed. “I was wrong about the count and the sculptor.”
She grinned. “Don’t forget the poet.”
“I should have trusted you.” His gaze searched hers. “Yet another mistake on my part.”
“You didn’t know me well enough to trust me. Not really.” She paused. “And I didn’t know you well enough to trust you.”
“Do you now?” He held his breath, his blue eyes intense.
“Know you well enough? Or trust you?”
“Both.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “Yes, I believe I do.”
“I swear to you, Violet, I will be worthy of your trust. I will never again do anything to make you regret trusting me.”
“Good.” She smiled. “Although I should confess...” She smirked. “I will miss having the moral upper hand.”
“My apologies.” He grinned and pulled her into his arms. “Maybe I can do something to make up for that.”
And he did, more than once before morning. And when they did sleep, they were entwined in each other’s arms. Violet couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so content and never before had she felt so loved.
She woke to find him lying on his side, his head propped in his hand, a too satisfied grin on his face. “Good morning, Violetta.”
She rolled over to face him. “Good morning, Giacomo.”
“I believe after last night, you need to rethink your what’s in a name comment.”
“You think you’re living up to the expectations set by Casanova? That’s rather arrogant of you, isn’t it?”
“Well, you did use the word remarkable,” he said modestly.
She laughed.
“I’m starving.” He leaned closer and nuzzled her neck.
She shivered with delight. “Then we should do something about that. Unfortunately, we would have to dress.” She trailed her fingers down his chest. “I’m not at all sure I’m amenable to that idea.”
He laughed, grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips. “We could stay here all day if you want. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do. But then we’d miss all the treasures of ancient Athens.”
“Goodness, James.” She pulled her hand free, curved it around the back of his neck and drew him closer. “I’ve seen the treasures of ancient Athens.” She brushed her lips across his. “I can tell you all about them.”
“As inviting as that sounds,”
he murmured against her lips, “don’t you have a reading to attend?”
“Blast it all.” She heaved a resigned sigh. “That completely slipped my mind.” She smiled in as seductive a manner as she could muster. “Your fault entirely.”
“You’re welcome.” He cast her his wonderfully wicked grin. The very grin that made her heart skip and something flutter in the pit of her stomach. As it had six years ago.
“What time is it?”
He grabbed his pocket watch from the side table. “Half past nine.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I have time to eat, but I do need to dress. Rather a pity, don’t you think?”
He laughed. “I do indeed. But we can’t make up for six years in one night, you know.” He grinned. “Although I think we gave it an excellent try.”
She laughed. “We certainly did.”
He slid out of bed and got to his feet. “Isn’t there a restaurant downstairs?”
She nodded. Goodness, the man had the well-shaped body of a Greek statue—all planes and valleys and shadows. She could skip this morning’s reading...
He pulled on his trousers. “I’ll go down and order something sent up.”
Damn. “Excellent. I’ll dress while you’re gone.”
He cast her a wicked look. “Only if you insist.”
She laughed. Again. The man made her laugh. Was there anything more wonderful than that? Excepting, of course, when he made her moan and cry out and sent delicious waves of sheer pleasure coursing through her.
He finished dressing and she was content to watch him. No, content was a far cry from her feelings at the moment. She was...happy. Yes, that was it. Deliriously, madly, immensely happy. It was more than merely the lingering glow of their night together. The man she loved loved her. What could be more wonderful than that?
He leaned over the bed and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll be quick.” He hesitated for a moment. “I am truly sorry, you know, for my behavior after our wedding. Well, for everything, really. I regret it deeply.”
“I can’t say it wasn’t upsetting but I certainly could have done whatever I wished, as well. The fact that I didn’t...” She shrugged. “Entirely my choice. It was part of our agreement, after all. Going our separate ways, living separate lives.
The Lady Travelers Guide to Happily Ever After Page 30
