Mastering The Marquess (Bound and Determined #1)(114)

“But …”

“There are no buts.” Rising from his chair, keeping hold of her hands, he came to stand beside her. “I have done things in the past that you find distasteful. I have never been ashamed of who I am, of what I want, what I desire. But, Louisa, that first night with you was the best night I had ever known. You answered every need I had and then some. The only nights that have ever been better have been the others I spent with you.”

“But …”

“Stop with the buts and believe me. I do not lie.”



He did not lie. Louisa knew that was true; other than the lifelong lie about his mother that he had been forced into as a boy, he always told the truth. And if that was true …

It was what she had hoped for. And perhaps that was why she found it so hard to believe. Dreams did not come true—or did they?

Taking one last bite of ham, she rose and stood beside him. “I find I have even less appetite than I thought. At least for food.”

“I find I have also had my fill.”

What next? She’d planned this night carefully, but somehow had not figured on how to get from one point to another. It was so much easier when he took command—then she had to decide only whether to comply or not, and what the consequences might be.

She stepped away from him and moved to the window. Full darkness came late this time of year and twilight still hung about the rooftops. Were they in agreement? Was there anything else they needed to discuss? She did not want this to be one more night of delaying what needed to be said—only now words and thought deserted her.

The air shifted as he moved up behind her. Very gently he pulled her against him. The welt along her thigh protested, but not with much vigor.

“Is there more you want to say?” he asked, his voice a whisper in her ear.

“I don’t know. I feel like there should be. So much has happened, so much has changed, and yet I believe it does not matter.”

“How can you even say that?” His hands wrapped about her waist, cradling her against him. Never had she felt so safe, so treasured.

She laid her head back against his chest, her eyes still focused on the fading sun. “You are still you. I am still me. What happened was awful, but it does not change what is between us. If you truly do not feel an unrelenting need to tie me up and whip me bloody, then I am prepared to proceed as if it had not happened.”

“Are you saying you can forget?”

“Definitely not. I am not sure I will ever forget my fear, my panic—or my faith that you would save me. I am sure I will have nightmares, but I will wake in your arms and you will comfort me. When I need to talk, you will be there. Am I wrong?”

“No, you are not.”

She let out a long sigh, feeling her body relax into his. She wished she were taller so that her curves would more directly fit against his hardness—and he was hard, increasingly so. She turned in his arms so that his growing arousal pressed tight against her belly. There was no fright in that.

She was glad things had not progressed further with the Countess, that some acts had retained their wild innocence.

Perhaps that was the way to begin, with something that had nothing to do with what had happened, with something that she had experienced only with Geoffrey, that was all about Geoffrey. He could make her forget all but his scent, his breath, his strength—all but the complete wonder of him.

Determined, she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss upon his chest. Lifting her hands, she began to undo the first of the buttons, wishing to taste his bare skin with her lips.

“No.” He caught her forearms, holding her still. “No,” he repeated, his voice ringing with authority.





Chapter Thirty-four





What had she done wrong? Knots re-formed deep in her belly. One moment everything was heading in the desired direction, and the next … And the next she just didn’t know. Looking up at her husband, she prayed he could see the question in her eyes.

He held her still, her body now separated from his by several inches of cool air.

She started to step back, but he did not release her arms, his fingers gripping her tight, holding her in place.

“What do you want then?” she asked.

His eyes met hers, dropped to her lips, focused there a moment and then came back to her eyes.

Her breath caught as she waited for his words.

Heat shone in his gaze, but still he held her away from his body’s heat.

“I do want you.” His husky whisper surrounded her, but he did not make another move.

“Then why?”

Dropping her arms, he turned away. He walked across the room to the bed and sat on the edge, his head slumped forward. “Because you make it all too simple—and life is never that easy.” He sounded tired.

She strode across the room and stood before him, daring him. “Why not? Don’t you think we deserve easy and simple for a change?”

His head jerked up, and again his eyes made that slow move from eyes to lips to eyes.

Her gaze dropped to his lips; they were pulled tight but still drew her. She wished she could just lean forward and press her mouth against his, wished she could smother him with kisses until he softened.

Only she didn’t want him soft—and she wasn’t even thinking about there. Well, she was actually, but not strictly.