In His Eyes(88)

He kissed her cheeks, then let his lips leave trails down her jaw and onto her neck, and when she shivered he lay next to her. He wanted to know her in every way a man could know a woman. Not just in her body, though he desperately wanted that now, but in her heart and mind. He wanted to explore every part of her, teaching her to trust him.

“Westley…?”

He tested the softness of the place where her neck met her shoulder. “Yes?”

“Do you love me?” Her voice trembled. “As…as I do you?”

He paused, the words slamming into him. “You are my wife.”

She chewed her lower lip, and he could feel what had just been soft and yielded to him start to harden. “Aye, but you did not answer my question.”

“I feel a great stirring for you, Ella. You have…captivated me.”

She released the breath held captive in her lungs, and he lowered his head to find that tender place once more, but her fingers slipped into his hair and gently eased him back.

“I do not want to ask you to stop.” She drew a long breath and eased away from him. “But I am afraid I must.”

Westley slowly rubbed her shoulder. “Do not say that you don’t want me as I do you. I will know it to be a lie.”

The lamplight danced across her skin, flickering against it and tempting him to see more of her.

She ran her hand down his jaw. “That I will not do. But I cannot perform an act of love without love.” She shook her head. “Vows or not.”

“Ella, I….”

She placed her fingers on his lips. “Don’t. Please don’t speak any words to me that do not so fill your heart and mind that they have no choice but to spring from your lips. If you hold any affection for me, do not say words that we will both regret come dawn.”

Westley swung off the bed and heard her gasp. What a callous cad! He clenched his fists. He had nearly let his desire run away with him under the excuse that this woman was legally his wife. But he had asked her to wed in name only. Now he had come to try to take something intimate from her without the decency of providing her the real relationship that must come first.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

Even in the dim light, he could see the pain that filled her eyes. Pain he had caused by his own selfish desires. He turned his head away. “You were right. I am naught but a devil. I must beg your forgiveness in attempting to violate the agreement we set forth.”

“Westley, I….”

He looked over his shoulder. “Better that neither of us say words we would regret in the morning.”

She snapped her jaw closed, and as moisture glazed her eyes, he turned away. He could not stand to see the pain replace the warmth in her eyes, knowing he was the cause. “Goodnight, Ella.”

She didn’t respond and he moved toward his own room. He paused and turned to look at her. “You have turned something within me, little dragon. With you near, I am a better man. A man quick to humor and teasing such as I have not been since I was a boy.” He flexed his fingers, tension so tight in his body he felt like a spring coiled too tightly. “I long to know everything about you.”

She rose and came closer, searching out his face in the lamplight. “As I wish to know you. Is that not what draws two people together?”

He chuckled. “I am most surely drawn to you. The very thought of being separated from you on the morrow has so driven me to madness that I flung aside all of my better judgment just to seek the warmth of you.”

Ella came closer and slid her hand over his arm. “So then you do feel for me as I do you, and this bond between us can be more.” She turned her eyes up at him, further tempting him to take what she offered. It was what he so desired, yet knew he should not gain without first securing her trust.

She’d wanted to know if he loved her, but he didn’t know if he truly understood what that meant. He put his hand on her shoulder. “I do not know if I can say the words you wish from me. I want to protect you, provide for you, and do everything in my power to see that you live a happy life.”

Her emerald eyes swam with emotions that threatened to unmoor them both. He must hold fast. “My beautiful, precious Ella. Know that I long for you, and that I will do everything in my power to care for you.”

She bit her lip and turned her eyes away. “But you do not love me.”

Did he? The chaplain had said that love was patient, kind, longsuffering, not puffed up, or envious. And Westley was none of the good things and all of the bad. He was prideful, arrogant, and rather impatient.

How then, could he love as she wanted him to love, when he could provide her with none of those things?

Pain flooded her eyes, pain he had caused. A good thing he returned to duty on the morrow. The less he was here to hurt her, the better. “I require but a bit of time.”

She straightened her shoulders, and a determined look came into her eyes. “It is enough, husband. Come, make of me your wife in truth.”

Westley clenched his hands, wanting nothing more in that moment than to give in. “You said you wished only to do so with a man who loves you.”

“You are my husband.”

Westley took a lock of her hair and twisted it in his fingers. “And as your husband, I wish to gain your trust by honoring your wish.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Goodnight, Ella.”