Reckless Need (Heart's Temptation Book 3)

by Scarlett Scott

  Heath stared down into the beautiful face of his wife. The woman he loved. Words clamored to reach his tongue. He’d spent the last day alternately chastising himself for once again playing the ass, and formulating what he would say to her. How he could attempt to win her.

  What did he regret, she had wanted to know.

  He would begin with the simple. Seeing her with Denbigh had brought out the savage in him, and he had no wish to lose control in such a manner again. He’d had ample time to consider precisely what he’d seen, and while he was certain that Denbigh’s motives hadn’t been innocent, he was equally certain that Tia’s had been. But still, he wasn’t yet ready to believe the earl’s claim that Tia loved him. Surely she would have told him herself if it were true.

  Admittedly, he’d done little to earn her love. He would begin now and continue for the rest of his days.

  “I regret my reaction to discovering you’d sent away my paintings to the Grosvenor Gallery,” he said at last. “I’m sorry I was so harsh and unyielding.”

  She smiled softly, snowflakes studding her lashes. God, she was a beauty. “I never should have sent away your paintings without your knowledge. It was wrong of me.”

  He shook his head. “You were right to do what you did. I’ve decided to allow my pictures to be exhibited.”

  She raised a brow, looking startled. “Even the one of Bess?”

  “Even that one.” He cleared his throat, attempting to find the proper words. After he’d removed his head from his own arse, he’d come to the realization that there was no harm in displaying his work for all to see. Indeed, it had once been his dream to do so. In many ways, Tia had helped him to reconcile the man he was now with the man he’d been.“After the exhibition is complete, I’ll have it delivered to her family. I should think they might find joy in it.”

  “Truly?” Tia searched his gaze in that way she possessed, seeing more of him than he wanted her to see.

  “Truly.” He paused, searching for the proper words. “Someone once told me that I cannot hold on to the past forever. I find she is right.”

  “She will be very pleased to hear that.” She ran her fingers across his mouth and he couldn’t resist catching them there. He kissed them once because he couldn’t help himself and twice to help temper the sting of the cold air.

  Damn it, she made him weak. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and carry her to his chamber. That long-ago day in the gardens at Penworth returned to him. She had been an ethereal beauty then. He’d been drawn to her, ignorant of just how much she would come to mean to him in the ensuing months. Just how much she would change his entire world.

  But there was something he needed to know for certain. It wouldn’t alter the way he felt for her, but a man needed to know the lay of the land. He rubbed his thumb lazily over her lower lip. “Tell me, Tia. Do you still love Denbigh?”

  “No,” she denied without hesitation, warming his heart with reassurance. “I loved him with a girl’s naïve infatuation. Now I am older and wiser. I know the difference between true love and a mere childish fancy.”

  He kissed her then, taking her mouth the way he longed to take her body. With passion and possession. She tasted of the sweetness of her morning chocolate, the fresh coldness of snow and something that was uniquely her. Their tongues tangled, and she stepped closer, her corseted curves pressing into him in a way that made him go rigid in spite of the nip in the air.

  She didn’t love Denbigh. Thank Christ, because if she did, he would have had to ride to the bastard’s estate and beat him to a bloody pulp. She was his, damn it, and he wasn’t about to lose her. He’d almost lost her once because of his own foolishness. He wouldn’t be so stupid ever again.

  A gust of wind blew against them and Tia shivered into him. Blast her, she was going to catch her death out in this wintry weather. With great reluctance, he pulled away from her, ending the kiss. Her Cupid’s bow was perfectly pink and slightly swollen from his kiss. Her eyes sparkled up at him with a mixture of unshed tears and the effects of the wintry air.

  She blinked and a tear slipped down her cheek. He caught it on his thumb.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. I’ve never been such a watering pot before.”

  It occurred to him then that he’d never—not when she’d injured her ankle, not when he’d found her shivering in the hunting cabin in East Anglia, and not even when he’d been unkind to her—seen her weep before. The sight cut at his heart. Damn it, he would never again be responsible for her tears, he vowed. Nothing and no one would be the cause of her pain ever again. Especially not him. She shivered again, reminding him that they had tarried in the elements overly long.

  “We’ve lingered in the cold long enough,” he told her. “Come inside with me.”

  When she looked as if she would have argued, he took her hand and tugged her along with him as he beat a hasty path back to the doors. He’d be damned if he allowed her to take ill now that he had her back where she belonged. Besides, if she was chilled, he had more than one way to warm her.

  A slow truce had begun blossoming between Tia and Heath. She smiled to herself the next morning as she made her way to the breakfast table. She put the slight upheaval in her stomach down to her fluctuating emotions. Lord, she’d been a ninny lately, crying one moment and laughing the next. She didn’t know what had gotten into her, but she had a feeling it had everything to do with being in love.

  And in love she was.

  She was more hopeful now than ever that she wasn’t alone in her feelings. She was certain she’d spied a glimmering of something in his eyes yesterday in the snow. He had kissed her with so much sweet passion that it had made her cry. And last night, he had made love to her so tenderly, holding her long afterward almost as if she were precious to him.

  She smiled again as she entered the breakfast room to find him waiting there for her, handsome and grinning back at her like a lovelorn suitor. She hadn’t dared to believe that he would come for her at Harrington House. Indeed, she hadn’t dared to believe he would even miss her. But he had. And she was back where she belonged.

  “Good morning, darling,” he greeted her softly, standing to acknowledge her entrance.

  “Good morning,” she returned, thinking that it was indeed a very good morning. She’d awoke to his kisses and they’d made slow, heart-melting love before he’d left her to get ready for the day. Gone were his hours of poring over estate matters in his study. It even seemed that the tension between them had lifted like a fog.

  As she crossed the room to join him, something odd happened. Her head suddenly felt too light for her body. She swayed, dizzied, and a wave of nausea assailed her. Oh dear. She pressed a hand to her stomach, thinking that Bannock had laced her far too tightly that morning.

  Heath’s gaze met hers as she stilled, uncertain if she was going to cast up her accounts or faint dead away. She’d never felt anything like it.

  “Tia?” Worry creased his features as he hurried toward her. “What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t know. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t find the words. Any words. And then, her ears began ringing and her vision darkened round the edges. The last coherent thought in her mind was that her dratted corset must surely be the culprit.

  Then, everything went black.

  “Are you certain?” Tia asked the village physician Heath had summoned to her side against her protests to the contrary. She’d told him that her corset had merely been too tight, but he’d reverted to his ducal arrogance and had ignored her completely.

  It would appear now that Heath hadn’t been wrong. Something more than a mere corset was at play. Something wonderful. Something she hadn’t so much as considered.

  The kindly elder man closed his doctor’s bag with a snap. “Quite certain, Your Grace. All the signs are here. I expect His Grace will be most relieved.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, feeling dazed by the news he
had just delivered to her. “I daresay he will.”

  She wasn’t ill. She was with child.

  She was carrying Heath’s babe. The knowledge filled her with wonder, excitement. Contentment. She had never conceived during her marriage to Stokey, and later, she had made certain her lovers took precautions. She and Heath had been intimate for months without change in her courses. She had simply closed off that part of her mind, the fragile maternal hope that she might one day bring a child into the world. It had been far better to think it impossible and avoid disappointment than to anticipate an event that would not be forthcoming.

  But now it had.

  “You will want to rest, Your Grace,” the doctor reminded her, gathering up his bag to see himself out. “Fainting is quite common for a woman in your condition, but we don’t want you to injure yourself.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, scarcely hearing the man with her mind whirling. She wanted to see Heath. “Will you send the duke in to me on your way out? I should very much like to tell him the news.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.” The older man smiled. “And may I be the first to offer my felicitations?”

  “Thank you.” She smiled. She knew women who had been enceinte. So much made sense to her now. Her weepiness of the last few weeks, her changing moods. What a fool she’d been not to notice.

  The door had scarcely closed on the doctor’s back when it flew open once more to reveal Heath. His hair was askew, his eyes clouded with worry, a frown curving his sensual lips.

  “Tia.” He rushed to her side and took her hands in his, bringing them to his lips. “My God, I can’t lose you. Not now. Not ever, damn it all. You must get well. Tell me you’ll get well.”

  “I shall get well,” she reassured him, struck by how very concerned he was for her. Her heart gave a pang in her breast. She caressed his bearded cheek. “You needn’t fear.”

  “Whatever it is that’s caused this, we will get through it together.” He kissed her palm.

  “Of course we will,” she began, only to be interrupted.

  “No, darling. Let me finish. I need to tell you what I’ve been meaning to say for days. I should have told you a long time ago, but I was too bloody stupid to realize that what was right before me was what I’d wanted—what I’d needed—all along.” He paused, seeming to collect himself as the tears she’d been attempting to squelch sprang free. “I love you, Tia. You’ve brought me back to myself in ways I never imagined possible. You’ve helped me to heal, to move forward. I love your stubborn, infuriating ways. Devil take it, I even love that you never listen to me when you think you know better. I love you so much, and I can’t bear to lose you.”

  “Oh, Heath.” She swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “You’re not losing me. I’m not ill.”

  He stared at her as if she’d suddenly announced her desire to jump out the nearest window. “You’re not ill?”

  “No.” She smiled, her heart so filled with happiness that she feared it would burst. “I’m with child.”

  “With child?” A slow, beautiful grin spread over his face. “You’re having my babe?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, unable to say more past the emotion clogging her throat.

  “My God.” He let out a whoop and crushed her in a hug. “That’s wonderful news. Why the devil didn’t you say so sooner?”

  Tia laughed. “I would have, but someone interrupted me.”

  “I suppose I did,” he said wryly, drawing back to search her gaze. “Are you happy, darling? I know we haven’t always had the smoothest of rides, and I know I’ve been an utter ass, but I swear I shall make it up to you.”

  “I’m very happy,” she assured him, framing his face in her hands. “Happier than I’ve ever been.”

  He kissed her swiftly, and it was passionate, open-mouthed. His tongue slid against hers and she welcomed the invasion, wanting more. When at last he tore his lips from hers, they were both breathing heavily, staring at each other with a newfound connection.

  “There’s something else I must tell you,” she told him, ready to say the words she’d been keeping to herself for far too long.

  “Good Christ woman, what can it be?” he demanded, every inch the duke. “I’m not certain my heart can withstand any more scares.”

  “I’m in love with an arrogant, domineering duke who is too stubborn for his own good and who creates the finest paintings I’ve ever seen.” She smiled as comprehension dawned in his eyes. “I think I’ve loved him since the moment he carried me off to my chamber and undid half my bodice.”

  “That is most fortuitous,” he drawled, “because I have it on good authority that the same duke is in love with a lady who has a penchant for spraining her ankle and redecorating his house.”

  She laughed, thinking back on the twisted path they’d taken to get them to where they were today. Their two halves had made a perfect whole after all. “Well then, the duke is a very fortunate man.”

  “Oh yes,” he agreed, lowering his lips to hers for another kiss. “He’s a very fortunate man indeed.”

  London, five months later

  urn a bit to your left, darling.”

  Tia sighed and did as Heath asked, shifting so that more light fell across her face from the morning room window. She had agreed to sit for another portrait, but she hadn’t taken into account just how uncomfortable sitting still would be now that her stomach had grown quite round and the babe was intent upon wielding his feet and elbows upon her so unmercifully.

  “How is this?” she asked.

  “Perfect.” He glanced up at her, the look of concentration on his face that she’d come to know well in the last few months. “You needn’t looked so aggrieved. I only need you to sit for a few moments more.”

  “I’m sure I don’t look aggrieved,” she felt compelled to argue, even though she was reasonably certain she did.

  “And I’m equally sure you do.” He raised a brow at her before turning his attention back to his canvas.

  The reception to his paintings at the Grosvenor Gallery had been exceedingly positive. More of his work was in demand, and Heath had been steadily painting ever since the winter.

  She sighed again. “I know you said you wished to represent a maternal goddess in nature for this picture, but I daresay I resemble a cow far more than a goddess.”

  She was very conscious of her burgeoning shape. Soon, she would no longer be able to conceal her condition in the clever drapery of her custom gowns. Heath couldn’t seem to keep his hands from her growing belly. He was constantly caressing her there, telling her how beautiful she was. And if his lovemaking was any indication, he was telling her the truth. She supposed that love, at least, was blind.

  “Nonsense,” he said. “You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

  “And you’re possessed of the smoothest tongue I’ve ever heard,” she returned archly.

  “You seemed to enjoy it last night,” he reminded her, making her flush as she recalled precisely what his tongue had been doing to her the previous evening.

  “Naughty man,” she scolded without heat. In truth, she found his frank, sensual nature incredibly attractive. She always would.

  Their days since her return from Harrington House had been nothing short of wonderful. Time had only brought them closer, their passion burning hotter than ever. And with each moment that passed, she swore that her love for him grew.

  A knock at the door interrupted the comfortable silence that had descended between them. Looking askance at her, Heath called for the butler to enter.

  “Lady Helen Harrington has arrived, Your Graces,” the august man announced.

  Tia brightened at the prospect of an unexpected visit from her sister. “Do send her in, please.”

  But the moment her sister crossed the threshold, Tia knew from Helen’s troubled expression that this wasn’t an ordinary social call. Oh dear.

  “Lady Helen,” Heath greeted her cheerfully, not having been blessed with
the same sense of sisterly discernment. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  “I’m sorry to intrude,” Helen murmured, hesitating a few feet away, wringing her hands. “It is merely that I haven’t anywhere else to go.”

  Tia rose from the settee, and not without a bit of effort on her part. These days, it seemed that every part of her body ached. She went to her sister, putting a soothing arm around her shoulders. “Come and sit, dearest. What do you mean when you say you haven’t anywhere else to go?”

  Helen allowed herself to be led to the settee. She’d barely seated herself before she burst into tears. “Oh Tia, I’ve done something horrid.”

  It occurred to Tia that the scene before her was the exact opposite of the one that had played out at Harrington House. Then, it had been Tia in need of reassurance and Helen the one with the ready handkerchief. With a dawning sense of dread, she realized that the tables had seemingly turned.

  She handed Tia a handkerchief. “What is it, sister? What can be so bad?”

  “I’m with child,” she revealed on a shuddering wail.

  Good heavens. Helen, her spinster sister, was having a babe. Out of wedlock. She patted her sister’s shoulder, shocked. “Who is the father, dearest?”

  “Don’t ask me. Please.” Helen’s eyes pleaded with her. “I’ve come to you because I need help finding a cottage somewhere far away. Somewhere I can go so that no one will know.”

  Tia met her husband’s gaze, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Thank you, she mouthed to him. I love you. He nodded, mouthing the same words back to her. Thank heavens she had a sympathetic husband. Helen would need them both in the months ahead.

  “Of course we shall help you, Helen,” she promised her sister. “We shall help you in every way we can.”

  Helen’s only response was more miserable weeping. Heath was at their side then, a protective presence. He wrapped them both in a warm embrace, pressing a kiss to the top of Tia’s head.