Page 49 of Courting Trouble
Her lips replaced her finger on his mouth, convincing him instantly as he stirred inside of her. Tomorrow. They had tomorrow.
Perhaps this long dark night he’d endured without her had been a time to forge them into what they were now. To learn of loss so they could fathom abundance. To build a foundation from the failures of their youth. Perhaps… their souls and hearts were stronger and more stalwart than they might have once been, having gained the perspective of tragedy, war, hardship, and pain.
And perhaps, if the gods were kind. If they could call the past several years a recompense for any happiness they might or might not deserve, and they could find their way to forgiveness. To understanding.
And only then could he lay claim to all her days thereafter.
An Enemy at the Gate
Every time Nora’s shoulder twinged, she couldn’t help but smile. Last night, she’d thrown Titus’s cautions to the wind and overexerted it, but she wasn’t about to admit it to him.
She didn’t regret a single moment.
Besides, the pain wasn’t unbearable, and there were other aches and twinges in more intimate places that she didn’t at all mind.
She’d returned her arm to the sling like an obedient patient, and now sat at the dressing table, brushing out her hair in slow, distracted strokes.
A glow that began at her center shimmered through her in breath-stealing ripples as she assessed her appearance in the mirror.
She’d been shot. A savage gangster was after her. She was a social pariah. She’d been a widow for less than a month.
And her reflection couldn’t stop smiling.
She looked younger, somehow, as if making love to Titus had erased years of misery. As if sleeping in his arms had allowed her to draw from some miraculous well of recovery.
She’d lain awake for what felt like hours after, listening to him breathe. Watching his eyes flutter with dreams. He enjoyed the slumber of a man with an unburdened conscience. There was something lovely about that. Something that’d made her feel both proud and melancholy.
It didn’t matter that the day had dawned grey, nor that Titus had risen before sunrise.
She could feel him close, only a few floors below. Going about his business, saving lives and alleviating pain. She’d never begrudge him that. He loved his work, and a man with such responsibilities wasn’t only worthy of her regard and her admiration, but also her respect.
How long had it been since she’d respected a man?
Besides, he’d kissed her sweetly when he’d gone, smoothing a hand over her unruly morning curls, winding one around his clever finger. “I’ll return for tea?” he offered in an indulgent whisper. “We have so much to discuss.”
She hadn’t looked forward to anything with such relish in as long as she could remember.
They could discuss the past, of course. And then… turn their eyes to the future.
Was this hope? This glow in her chest? This soft, bubbling effervescence that made her feel as if her blood were rendered of champagne. It’d been so long since she’d felt anything of the kind, she couldn’t exactly place a name on it.
The only thing she knew for certain: Titus was the cause. He was the cure to her ills and the balm to her soul.
He had the heart of a saint, the body of a god, and the appetite of a libertine.
William had grown soft and bloated in their years together, his hair thin and his middle thick. His teeth yellowed by vice and lack of consistent hygienic practices. Everything about him, from his breath to the sound of his voice, used to offend her.
Perhaps she might have felt differently had she loved him… if he’d been worthy of her regard in any respect.
Titus was as different from him as night was from day. Age had only improved upon what youth had rendered. Muscles developed through labor as a lad were kept taut with strength from training at the club with some of his compatriots from the army.
Even his scent enticed her, so sharp and clean, mixed with the cedar of his wardrobe and the spice of his aftershave. His voice had crooned wicked things into her ears with the resonance and reverence of cathedral bells, vibrating to the very soul of her.
After the tumult of their first encounter, their lovemaking had become more leisurely and deliberate, enough to where they were able to rediscover each other with inexhaustible delight.
They’d had to be creative with her shoulder, finding positions that didn’t jostle her too terribly, nor could she bear weight.
Nora clamped her lips together as she remembered the way he’d gently rolled her on her side, curling his lithe, strong body against her back and lifting her leg in the air to enter her from behind.
