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The Viscount's Bride

Page 26

by Ann Elizabeth Cree


  “I needed you,” he repeated. “Oh, I needed you, but not to sacrifice your virginity while I was half out of my mind as some sort of reward for living.”

  She flinched. “You do not understand. I needed you as well. I…I wanted you.”

  She had no idea if he believed her or not. Or if he even comprehended what she had said. He was silent, staring out of the window at the night. She waited until he finally turned. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No. You did not hurt me.” She asked, hesitatingly, “Do you remember anything at all?”

  “I have no idea if what I remembered was reality. Or what I wished.”

  “You were…kind.”

  An ironic smile touched his mouth. “So I should salve my conscience with that? I wonder, however, how you have endured my touch since then.”

  She rose and went to his side. “I bear as much responsibility as you. How could I blame you when I was so certain I was to blame? If you must know, I have considered myself the worst sort of seductress, a wanton creature who would take advantage of a helpless man. The sort of creature my father feared I was. I have felt such a fraud; I did not know what I could possibly say to you. And since I have thought that I might be with child, I have been so terrified. So terrified that you would think I…I was unfaithful.”

  “I would never think you unfaithful. Or a fraud,” he said quietly. He looked down at her. “Perhaps neither one of us is exactly what we thought we were.”

  “Or perhaps we have changed.”

  “Or perhaps that. I know I have.” He looked away for a moment. “Do you regret the child?” he asked carefully as if he feared her answer.

  “Oh, no, never that!” Without thinking, she caught his hand. “I want this child so very, very much. You cannot imagine how much. I pray you will never think that!”

  “But you have not been happy.”

  “Only because I thought you would send me away once I had told you.” She dropped his hand. “I…I will quite understand if you decide to.”

  He stared at her and then with a groan swept her into his arms. “That is the most damnably irrational thought you have had yet,” he said, his voice thick. His arms tightened around her. “You are carrying my child, our child, and if you think I mean to let you go, you are mad.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, reveling in the comfort of his embrace, wonder and relief flooding her with warmth. They stood together in the moonlight, until he finally slackened his hold. “You must rest. I will warn you, I intend to play the heavy-handed husband, overseeing every aspect of your confinement.”

  “I will try not to protest too much.”

  “I am changing the terms of our marriage as well. I no longer wish for an impersonal, passionless marriage. I will do everything in my power to convince you that is what you want as well.”

  She looked up at him. “You do not need to convince me. I…I want the same thing.”

  His eyes darkened and then his mouth was on hers in a kiss she returned with equal passion. He finally lifted his head. “We must stop. Or you will be in my bed.”

  “I…I would not mind,” she whispered.

  The flare of hot desire made her legs quake. “But the baby,” he said.

  “On our wedding day, Belle spoke to me of the marriage bed.” She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. “She said that even when one was in…increasing it was still possible to…to be together with one’s husband.”

  “But you are not well.”

  She rose up on her toes and put her arms around his neck drawing his head towards her. “I am certain I will feel much better if you will…will make love to me.” Thank goodness for the darkness, for her face must be the colour of her hair.

  The flickering flame in his eyes burst into searing fire. His mouth was on hers in a demanding, possessive kiss as if he had thirsted for a long time. She clung to him as he lifted her up and carried her to his bed, his mouth still on hers. He lowered her gently down and then was beside her, touching her, kissing her, murmuring endearments. Her body was on exquisite fire and her last thought before she was completely consumed was that Emily had been right after all.

  —

  He stirred, not certain he wanted to awake fully in case last night had only been a dream again, but the soft warmth of her body curled against him was very real. He turned on his side, cradling her against him, his hand clasped over the soft, slightly rounded stomach that would soon be swollen with their child. He closed his eyes, the image making him hard with desire. He was going to have a hell of a time keeping from making love to her a thousand times a day, but until Dr Crowley saw her, he would take no risks.

  He could not help brushing his lips over the back of her neck. He would never tire of exploring her, touching her. Or waking with her.

  She turned a little and then opened her eyes. They were heavy with sleep, but a soft smile curved her mouth. “It was not a dream, then,” she murmured.

  “No, not a dream. Reality. Our reality.” He stroked her cheek. “I hope it was much more satisfactory for you than the first time.”

  Soft colour stole into her cheeks. “Yes.”

  He looked at her sweet face. “I still regret that I did not give you all the tenderness and consideration you deserved. I swear I will make it up to you.”

  “But you do not need to. I do not regret that night. For there is the baby.” She hesitated and said a little shyly, “I realised that night that I…I loved you.”

  “You love me?”

  “I hope you do not mind.” She looked uncertain.

  “Mind?” He wanted to fall at her feet. “Chloe, I…” He stopped and gave a strangled laugh. “I think I have loved you from the moment I first saw you. When you threatened to run Justin through if he harmed Belle. I had not dared to hope that you might love me in return, but I hoped in time you might need me as much as I need you.” He cupped her face. “For I need you, not just in my bed, but in every way possible. Your lovely face, your sweet smile, your loyalty to those you love, even such things as your going bare-foot at every possible opportunity. I need all of that.”

  The love and wonder in her eyes filled him with gratitude. “You were always so self-sufficient and always coming to my rescue. I never thought that you might need me. Or…” she hesitated “…that I would need you.”

  “We have changed. Both of us.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead and then pulled her more firmly into his arms. “Right now, I plan to fulfil our most elemental needs. Until Dr Crowley sees you, however, I do not want to take any risks. But there are other ways to fulfil one’s needs.” His hand stroked the silky skin of her leg. “I love you, Chloe.”

  “Brandt,” she said, but her eyes were already clouding with desire. She drew him into her embrace and managed to whisper, “I love you,” before they were lost to everything but each other.

  —

  ISBN: 978-1-55254-978-0

  Copyright © 2007 Harlequin Books S.A.

  The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:

  The Viscount’s Bride

  Copyright © 2003 by Annemarie Hasnain

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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