Page 81 of Secrets of the Marriage Bed
‘I couldn’t sleep.’
He led her to his chair and sat down with her on his lap. She rested her head on his broad shoulder and inhaled the scent of soap and husband laced with the fragrance of brandy.
‘You neither, I assume,’ she said.
He settled her more comfortably in his lap and lifted his glass to her lips. ‘Drink?’
She took a tiny sip and let the liquid burn a path down her throat. She sighed.
He tightened his grip about her shoulders. ‘You are perfectly safe. I have two men I trust in the corridor. Not even a bat could come through the windows.’
‘It isn’t that.’
He dipped his chin in enquiry. The low light from the fire cast his face in a series of planes and dark hollows. Gave him a demonic look. She cupped his cheek, felt the faint prickle of new stubble against her palm. ‘Oh, it is part of it.’
‘And the other part?’
‘I was missing you.’ She held her breath. Would he admit to missing her too?
‘I am here.’
Clearly not. ‘And so am I, now.’
His lips twitched, displaying for the briefest moment that elusive smile.
She smiled back. ‘I know. A bit obvious, but sometimes I feel as if you need to be reminded.’
‘I apologise. I will be more attentive in future.’
A flicker of anger coursed through her veins at his politeness. ‘Please, if it is another duty, another responsibility to be added to your long list, do not trouble yourself.’
Time to go. She pushed away from him.
‘Stay,’ he said softly. ‘I am in need of your company.’
Thank the stars in the heavens. At least he could admit to needing something. ‘You are worried.’
‘Not only worried. I am angry. Someone tried to cause you harm and very nearly succeeded.’
He gave her another sip of his drink and for long minutes they gazed into the fire. His heartbeat was a steady rhythm against her cheek, each inhale and exhale lifting her a fraction. Unsure whether or not she should stay, she toyed with the ribbon at the end of the plait she wore to bed.
‘You are quite recovered from the shock of last night?’ The deep rumble of his voice was comforting. As was the squeeze of her shoulders and the feel of his breath against her neck.
A pleasurable shiver zipped down her spine. ‘Completely,’ she said softly. ‘How is your head?’
‘Cured.’
‘I’m glad.’
From this angle she had an excellent view of an expanse of pale gold skin where his silk dressing gown gaped in a deep vee. A dark flat male nipple peeked out from a swirl of crisp golden hairs. Did he have any idea how much the sight of that tempted her tongue and teeth and lips?
She experimentally flicked it with the soft hairs at the end of her braid.
He hissed in a breath. His nipple furled up into a tight little point, the same way hers did when he touched them.
Fascinated, she did it again. This time he groaned softly, a dark sensual sound.
‘You like that,’ she said, delighted with her discovery.
