Page 81 of Taken By the Icy Duke

“We can face it,” he said, leaning in to kiss her gently. She sank into the warmth of his mouth, her heart pounding with a sweet ache of shared longing.

After a moment he drew back with a playful smile on his lips.

“I have spent too long pushing you away,” he confessed. “Allow me to show you how I truly feel.”

Her breath caught, her cheeks flushing.

“Yes,” she said, trembling with anticipation. She watched as he rose and removed the rumpled waistcoat, his gaze never leaving her face. The sense of intimacy blossomed, and she recalled how many nights had passed in cold distance.

He returned to her side, helping her ease the covers away. Leaning in, he kissed her forehead, then her temple, trailing reverent caresses as though worshipping her very presence. She curled her arms around his neck, letting his lips find the curve of her jaw and the line of her throat. A quiet gasp escaped her when his mouth traveled lower, each press of his kisses reverent, soft, and full of wonder.

“You are everything to me,” he said, brushing aside the neckline of her nightgown. “I am sorry I ever let fear claim me.”

Her body warmed under his touch, aching for him and the weeks since the last time they came together. The heat of his tongue as he circled her breasts made her sigh.

He gazed at her through half-lowered lashes, the warmth in his eyes reflecting a tender reverence. Gently, he bent to kiss the faint swell of her abdomen—a gentle acknowledgment of the future they now shared.

“Let me cherish you,” he murmured, his voice husky with emotion, his lips trailing over her skin. She felt a surge of affection, tears welling at the corners of her eyes, unsure if they sprang from relief, longing, or the unshakable sense of unity drawing them close.

“I have dreamed of this closeness,” she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest. He lifted his head to look at her, brushing away a stray tear with the edge of his thumb.

“You never need to dream alone again,” he murmured, threading his fingers through hers. Her heart fluttered at the sincerity etched in his face, and the gentle conviction in his voice.

He leaned in, capturing her mouth in a kiss that spoke of the devotion and yearning he had kept carefully hidden. The softness of his lips, and the heat of his breath, sent a tremor of eagerness through her. She returned the kiss enthusiastically, her free hand sliding around his shoulder to pull him closer.

Ever so carefully, he guided her shift upward, sliding it away from her body. She responded by tangling her fingers in his clothing until she could free him from the rest of his garments. Their combined laughter, hushed by passion, blended with the rustle of linens as he slid himself inside her.

She drew a shivering breath, every nerve alive with renewed closeness and the certain knowledge they carried more than themselves into this union; their child’s future was part of their tender bond. He brushed his lips to her temple, his breathmingling with hers; the lamp’s light caressing the curve of their entwined forms.

Gently moving within her, she felt his hesitation, his gentleness; his desire checked by wanting to keep her safe.

“Is this all right?” he whispered, wrapping his fingers gently with hers. His voice was uncertain and full of a love she had once doubted was possible.

“It is more than all right,” she breathed, lifting her gaze. “I feel safe, and I feel… whole.”

His shoulders trembled as he rested his forehead against hers, as though the moment demanded reverence rather than haste. She closed her eyes, letting tears slip down her cheeks, each one a testament to joy rather than sorrow. When he spoke her name again, it was with hushed awe, as though he uttered a vow carried on soft candlelight.

She answered with a faint, breathless laugh, overwhelmed by the depth of what they shared: the forgiveness, the renewed trust, the child they awaited. Every whispered confession, every lingering touch, told her the shadows of the past had melted under their new resolve.

Her climax surprised her, quickly mounting with the slow, tender movements within her. She pressed her eyes closed, arching against him, crying out with the waves of pleasure. Gilbert took advantage of her ecstasy, moving quickly, panting with need as he finished within her without reservation.

When they lay still, breathing in tandem, he brushed her hair away from her face and pressed a final kiss to her brow.

“I love you,” he said, half-wondering at the brightness in her eyes.

“I love you, too,” she replied, voice trembling. “Nothing shall make me doubt it now.”

In that tender aftermath, they held each other close in the soft glow of lamplight, the warmth of their bodies a promise of all that the future would bring. Challenges, yes, but carried together with a love that eclipsed old fears. And as she drifted off with her head resting against his chest, she let contentment anchor her in the present, certain that whatever came next, they would face it hand in hand, a family bound by trust and devotion.

Later that evening, Gilbert laid abed beside Diana, keeping his arms around her with an insistence that he would stay with her as long as she needed to rest. She nestled against his chest, feeling safer than ever before. Sleep lapped at the edges of her mind, but a knock on the door jarred them both.

Gilbert let out a small growl of frustration and nuzzled her hair.

“Who dares interrupt us now?” he muttered, rising reluctantly to pull a robe over his bare chest.

When he opened the door, Leopold stood in the corridor, hat in hand. He shot Gilbert an apologetic look.

“Forgive me,” he said, clearing his throat. “I have urgent news.”

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