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She shook her head and, with two hands to his face, said,  I do not break.
 Strong and wise. But in the act of love, I know best how this must be done. He slid out
of her.
 No! Don t stop. Don t!
 I won t leave you. How can I now? He kissed her, her fragrance on his lips and filling
the air around them, drowning him even further in a sensual haze.  I need to make you happy.
 You have, she protested as he reached for her gown and handed it to her.
 Not like I will now. Upstairs in my bed.
Chapter Five
They passed Charles in the kitchen, Lacy giving the servant a smile of gratitude. He had
done well by her and, thank the good lord, done it so quickly that she need not seduce him any
longer.
Wes walked beside her, his step she could have sworn faster, lighter.
But the distance from stable to his bedroom seemed half a world away for all Lacy s need
to have him inside her once more. Safe, with me. Always, with me.
She walked ahead of him up the stairs, brushing away the drops of rain from her face and
bosom. She opened his door and proceeded to the center of the room. He shut the door with a
soft thud.
She spun, facing him, aware now she had what she had come for. His attention. His care.
His love? Ah. That she had always had, lust though it might have been the night they d met.
Their love would always contain lust, though this morning she would mix it with commitment,
and like a good batter, add understanding later.
She watched him sink against the door. His rugged face was flushed, his scar vivid, his
golden red hair mussed from their encounter. His lightning gray eye danced down her body. He
was a sore sight. A man in love.
 Shall I pretend to be the demure girl now?
 Do as you wish, pet.
He pushed away from the door to advance slowly on her. For the first time, she noticed
he had walked inside without the cane.
 You have so far and look where you have me.
That made her grin. She crisscrossed her hands to lift her gown but then thought better of
the plan. She strolled forward, the coquette coming out to play with the man she adored. He
halted at her advance, his feet planted firmly.
With a finger trailing down his chest, she leaned up and widened her eyes at him.  I d
rather see you.
He snorted.  I am not as lovely.
 To me you are, she whispered and ran the tip of her nose down his throat.
 I am not as graceful, either. He grasped her by the waist.
She smiled, wickedness in her wink.  You did not plan to seduce me, either, this morning
when you dressed. So I am certain, you are encumbered with all sorts of clothes you now do not
need. She stepped backward and crossed her arms, the better to keep her hands to herself.  Go
on, Colonel. I await your pleasure.
 Damn right, you do. He fiddled with his shirt ties, undid the buttons on his flies and
stepped from his shoes. With a few flicks of his fingers, he cast off his shirt and let his trousers
drop, then his small clothes.
She bit her lip.
He stepped from the heap of his clothes, and she was breathless with the glory that was
Colonel Wesley Stanhope of His Majesty s Hussars.
True, he bore the scars of his career in the cavalry. A slash across his taut ribs. A nasty
gash, now healed, on his massive left thigh. The wounds of Talavera shone more brightly
though, more starkly, and she caught back a gasp. He would not want her pity. Not now. Never
here.
His left arm hung at an odd angle, witness to how it had been broken and not
appropriately healed. His left ankle was larger than the right, but both corded legs looked
healthy, normal. Of course, there was the scar that could not diminish but only enhanced his
square jaw, his dimple and make him more debonair than the night she d decided he was
destined to be hers. And as for the eye patch, evidence of the loss of his left eye to a saber s cut?
Ah. That she could not heal, but she had made him see how she loved him and she could and
would make him see so much more.
 What do you think? he asked, his left eye muscle twitching beneath the patch, showing
his nerves and his tremulous distaste for her examination of his wounded body.
 Shall I tell you? she whispered and walked forward to press her torso to his and enfold
him.  Darling. She splayed her fingers atop the breadth of his chest. He was so big, his muscles
so pronounced, her fingers did not meet. She sent her hands down his huge arms. He was power
and might. Sleek and sturdy. She twisted her hands down to run them over his ribs, and as she
sank her fingers to his groin into his nether hair, she barely made a sound as she said,  You are
stunning. A male creature who makes me want and need. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]