It was a strange feeling, albeit not a novel one where Damien was concerned. Still, the very notion there was somebody out there now to protect her sent a frisson ofsomethingthrough Emma she dared not name.
“Please, don’t ever,everdo such a thing again. Not at my expense.”
She put a hand to his chest, forgetting about the ribs. Damien groaned, and she snatched her hand back. He took it and gently replaced it where it had been.
“Your touch is worth a little pain,” he muttered lowly.
“Foolish man,” Emma whispered, choked with fear at how close she had come to losing him.
She settled beside him with slow, deliberate care, her dressing gown slipping from her shoulders as she leaned in. She undid the cord with a lazy flick of her fingers. The silk parted like water. Beneath it, she wore nothing at all.
She pressed her bare skin to his, careful not to jostle the broken ribs, though the heat of him beneath her stirred a want she had not expected tonight. Not so soon. Not with his pain still lingering and the scent of smoke not yet faded from her hair.
But he turned his head toward her, his gaze desperate, aching.
Suddenly, all she wanted was to lie with him, skin to naked skin.
Lovemaking was not required. Merelycloseness.
Damien’s hand drifted across her abdomen, and then found the scar along her hips. His fingers traced its path as though it were a map leading him home. At its end, he laid his palm flat against her side.
“Can you forgive me?” he asked quietly.
“I already have,” Emma whispered, resting her forehead to his.
His lips brushed her collarbone, then lower, scattering feather-light kisses along the swell of her breasts. Her skin tingled with every soft press of his mouth, the sensation delicate but devastating.
“There are no more secrets,” Damien murmured. “I swear it.”
He paused.
“Except… there is one more. Justone.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “One more secret?”
Damien nodded slowly. “This one I have kept closest to my heart all this time. I have not allowed myself to know it, let alone you.”
Emma’s breath caught, her heart hiccupping beneath his hand. “And what is it?”
“That I love you.”
For a moment, she could not see. A hot film of tears veiled her eyes. Not from fear or pain—but from the quiet, life-altering certainty of hearing those words spoken at last.
She kissed him—firmly, wholly, and without restraint.
“And I love you,” she murmured into his mouth. “No more secrets?”
“None,” he promised. “It is over. All of it. Redmane will be sold, the legacy split with Harold. After that… we will have no choice but to begin again. A new adventure.”
Her arms slid around his neck, drawing him to her. His lips drew on her throat, making her gasp.
“Swear it,” she breathed, “on the life of our unborn child.”
Damien froze. He blinked, drawing back slightly as if he hadn’t heard her right.
“Our...?”
He moved too fast, bracing himself on the arm that had no strength to give. Pain surged through him and he fell back with a groan.