Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)(19)

Her eyes met his, and as she always did, Amara felt stunned at the depth of desire in them, that this man, her secret husband, actually wanted her so very badly. At first she had hardly believed what she had seen in his face, and even now it was a feeling that remained fresh and new. More, it sparked an answering desire far beyond anything she had ever dared hope to feel. For Amara, it was exhilarating that a man should want her so genuinely, so desperately. This man. Her husband, her lover.

He made Amara feel beautiful.

He kissed her, hands and mouth roaming over her until she thought she would lose her mind. She let out a low cry, gave her desires free rein, and he took her there on the desk, his presence, his strength, his scent, his touch all blending into torturous pleasure she could hardly endure. Her desire to touch and to feel drove all thoughts from her mind. Nothing mattered but what she could taste, hear, feel, smell, and she embraced it with abandon.

Hours later, she lay with him in his wide bed, her long, slender limbs twined with his. She could not remember precisely when he had carried her into his chambers, but the angle of the sunlight striking one wall through a high, narrow window told her that afternoon was rapidly fading toward twilight. She was naked, but for the single silver chain she wore around her neck, and Bernard's heavy Legion ring set with a green stone that hung upon the necklace. One of his arms was around her, and his body was a heavy, relaxed presence.

Amara lay there, sleepy and content, idly stroking one of her own slender, honey brown hands over the cords of muscle in one of his arms. She had seen Bernard casually lift loads that even a gargant would not consider a light burden, through the power given him by his earthcrafting, and she found it eternally amazing that so strong a man could be so very, very gentle, too.

"I missed you, my lady," he murmured, his voice pitched low, a lazy, satisfied growl in his tone.

"And I you, my lord."

"I've been looking forward to this trip."

Amara let out a wicked little laugh. "If you had your way, we'd stay right here."

"Nonsense," he said, but smiled as he did. "I miss my nephew."

"And that's what you've been looking forward to," she murmured. She moved her hand. "Not this. "

Her husband's eyelids fluttered shut and he let out a low hiss. "Don't get me wrong. Mmmm. I have no objections to that. None at all."

He felt the soft, dark hairs of his chest brush against her cheek as she smiled. "I suppose it works out then."

Bernard laughed, a relaxed and warm sound. He tightened his arm around her slightly and kissed her hair. "I love you."

"And I you."

He fell quiet for a moment, and she felt herself tense up a little. She could sense that he wanted to ask her, and that he was uncertain about whether or not to speak. His hand slid over her belly, strong and gentle.

She knew that he could not feel the scars that the Blight had left over her womb, but she flinched for an instant regardless. She forced herself to remain quiet and relaxed, and covered his hand with both of hers. "Not yet," she said. She swallowed, and said, "Bernard..."

"Hush, love," he said, voice strong and sleepy and confident. "We'll keep trying."

"But..." She sighed. "Two years, Bernard."

"Two years of a night here, a night there," he said. "We'll finally have some time together in Ceres." His hand drifted over her skin, and Amara shivered. "Weeks."

"But love. If I can't give you a child... your duties as a Count call for you to pass the strength of your crafting down to children. You owe it to the Realm."