Seven Years to Sin(70)
The truth of it was that he managed the public side of their relationship much better than she did. As proprietary as he felt about her private self, he wasn’t possessive of her public face. Instead, he seemed to relish watching her swim the social waters, admiring the ease with which she managed the necessary interactions—the discourse, the dancing, and all the rest. He was proud of her, content to watch her shine in her element, which made all the pain and sorrow she’d experienced to become so consummate seem worthwhile.
He withdrew a ring. A thick gold circlet topped with an ostentatious ruby as big as her knuckle. The brilliant blood-red stone was a pillowed square surrounded by diamonds, boldly proclaiming the worth of the man who’d purchased it. The gem was almost vulgar in its size and purity of clarity, which made her smile. If her marriage to Alistair wasn’t enough to show the world she’d changed, the ring would certainly manage the task.
“Yes,” he murmured, sliding the ruby onto her finger. “I will marry you. As soon as possible. By the end of the week if we can manage it.”
“No.” She cupped his face in her hands, her fingers brushing his inky hair back from his forehead. “We’ll do this properly. In England. With the banns read and endless celebrations and our families in attendance. I want the world—and most especially you—to know that I do this after a great deal of thought and careful consideration. I know what I do, Alistair. I know what I want.”
“I would prefer to be wed before we return.”
“I won’t leave you,” she vowed, knowing his concern.
“You can’t. I won’t let you.” He caught her wrists with a gentle, yet unyielding grip. “But there will be women who … at routs and luncheons … they’ll know—”
“—Lucius,” she interjected. “They do not know you, not as I do. And they never will.”
Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his furrowed brow. “My darling. You haven’t faith that anyone can love you unconditionally, because no one ever has. But I do. How could I help myself? And over time, you’ll see that the changes you wrought in me are not reversible. I am who I am at this moment because of you, and without you I would cease to exist. I have no notion how I’ll survive the next few months until you can join me in—”
“Join you?” he asked sharply. “Where?”
“A letter from Hester arrived this afternoon. She must have sent it directly after we left, perhaps even the same day, which tells me she knew she was increasing before I departed and didn’t want the news to stay me.”
“Your sister is with child?”
“I cannot believe she could ever think I wouldn’t return to her posthaste. As I told you, she hasn’t been well for some time. She will need looking after. I must be with her now.”
“I’ll return with you, of course. With luck, I can arrange for us to sail within a fortnight.”
“I cannot ask that of you. You came to the island for a reason.”
“Yes. You. The same reason I returned to England. I traveled with you because there was no reason to stay there while you were here, and the same is true in reverse.”
Jess’s thoughts froze with surprise, remembering the night they’d spoken on the deck of the Acheron and she had wondered if he was going home for a woman. To learn she was that woman was slightly overwhelming. And deeply moving.
He must have seen the realization on her face. His jaw tensed. “My lust was fierce, you know that. I won’t say it was love, but it was deeper than flesh. My desire for you gave me hope that I could find joy in sex again, that I could approach the act with something beyond detachment and a need for base physical release. I had to have you, Jess, whatever the cost or effort.”
She stared at him, wondering why he wouldn’t say he loved her. Perhaps he didn’t. Perhaps he couldn’t. Perhaps what they had was all she would ever claim from him.
After a moment’s contemplation, she decided that whatever he could give of himself was enough. She loved him enough for the two of them.
Releasing him, she pulled away and reclined. She stretched out on the pillows, reaching her arms above her head and arching her back in blatant invitation. If his need was the only part of himself he had to give her, she would take it all.
Alistair crawled onto the dais. He straddled her, his hands pressing into the pillows on either side of her shoulders. Lowering his head, he took her mouth, his lips sealing to hers.
A warm, humid breeze blew over them. In the distance, she heard the shouts of men and the distant screeching of gulls. They were outside, where anyone could see, and that increased her excitement. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hummed her pleasure into his kiss.
“I thought,” he murmured against her parted lips, “that I might have to convince you to wed me. That it might take some time. Weeks. Months. Maybe years. I built this place to make it hard for you to run while I presented my arguments.”
She smiled. “A captive audience. How would you have stopped me from leaving?”
“Perhaps hiding your clothes and keeping you pinned with my cock. I also brought a few bottles of your favorite claret with me. I remember your being much more agreeable after a glass or two.”
“Wicked man.” Her gaze lowered to his throat and the strong pulse beating there. “Do your worst. I rescind my acceptance.”