Midnight Angel (Stokehurst #1)(17)

Luke smiled, a movement of bristle and warmth against her cheek. “That's because you stop breathing at the important moments.” He finished the row of buttons, and the dress fell to a heavy heap on the floor. The sharp edge of his hook caught the tapes of her petticoats and the strings of her corset, until her sumptuous body burst from its tight bindings.

“You should have to wait like other men,” Iris said with a shiver of excited laughter. “It isn't civilized to go around ripping off women's garments, like some ruthless pirate.”

“You can rip mine off,” he said diplomatically.

“Oh, how very generous. How very…very…” The rest of her words were smothered by his demanding kisses.

Hours later they lay entwined in the darkened bedroom, while a few lit candles touched the air with a soft glow. Iris stretched in contentment as Luke traced the rich curve of her waist and hip. “Darling,” she murmured, rolling toward him. “I want to ask you something.”

“Mm.” Luke kept his eyes closed, letting his fingers drift across her skin.

“Why won't you marry me?”

Luke turned his head, giving her a thoughtful glance. Through all the years of their acquaintance, he'd never considered marrying Iris. They had separate lives, never needing each other in more than a superficial way. There was friendship, and passion, just enough to make everything pleasant.

“Don't you care for me?” Iris wheedled.

“Of course I care for you.” He patted her round hip and stared into her eyes. “But I'm not going to marry anyone, Iris. You know that.”

“We're very good together. There's not a soul in the world who would begrudge us this marriage. And no one would be surprised by it.”

He shrugged uncomfortably, unable to deny it.

“Is it that you're reluctant to commit yourself only to me?” Iris propped herself up on one elbow. “I wouldn't keep you from going to other women's beds, if that was what you needed. I wouldn't take away your freedom.”

Surprised, Luke sat up and scrubbed his fingers through his dark hair. “Freedom to have sex with women I care nothing about?” He looked down at her with a wry smile. “Thank you, but I've done that before. I didn't find it all that satisfying. No, I don't need that kind of freedom.”

“My God. You were born to be someone's husband.”

“Mary's,” he said, nearly inaudibly.

Iris frowned, stroking the light pelt on his chest with her palm. “Why only her?”

Luke was silent for a moment, choosing his words with difficulty. “After she went, I realized…part of me was gone forever. I don't have as much to give a woman as you seem to think. I wouldn't make a good husband. Not the kind I was for her.”

“Darling, your version of being a poor husband would far surpass anyone else's best attempts. You were so young when you lost Mary. How can you claim you'll never love again? You're only thirty-four. You must want more children, a family—”

“I have Emma.”

“Don't you think she'll want brothers and sisters?”

“No.”

“Fine, then. I don't have my heart set on children.”

“Iris,” Luke said gently, “I'm not going to marry you or anyone else. I don't want more than what we already have. If this relationship is making you unhappy, if you need more than I can give you, I'll understand. There are men who would jump at the chance of marrying you, and God knows I don't want to stand in the way—”

“No.” Iris gave an anxious laugh. “I'm just greedy, I suppose. I wouldn't mind sleeping with you every night, and living in your home, and having everyone know I'm yours. But that doesn't mean I'm unhappy with things as they are. Don't look guilty. You've made no promises. You've been very careful not to. If this is all I can have of you, it's still more than any other man has given me.”

“That's not true,” Luke said gruffly, wishing he could be what she wanted. He was uneasy at the thought of living with a woman who loved him, when he couldn't love her back. It would be a shadow marriage, a mockery of what he'd once had with Mary.

“It is true,” Iris insisted. “I'm always honest with you, Luke.”

He kissed her shoulder, keeping his face averted. “I know.”

“Which is why I'm going to tell you something. You haven't let yourself fall in love with anyone since Mary. But someday you will. You won't be able to stop it from happening. And I wish it could be me.”

Luke caught her hand, which had wandered down to the indentations of muscle below his rib cage. Gently he kissed the tips of her fingers. “If I could love anyone that way again, it would be you. You're a good woman, Iris.”

Her mood changed from lovelorn to wanton, and she eased her sleek body over his. “I'll have to correct that impression. I'm really very naughty.”

Luke laughed and rolled her over, straddling her voluptuous hips. He brushed his mouth over hers in a provocatively light kiss. “Let me please you tonight.”

“You always do.” Her breath caught in her throat as his hand traveled slowly down her body.

“I have something special in mind,” he whispered, and for a long time after that she was too consumed with pleasure to reply.