Page 176 of Love ad Lib
‘We can find a way to make it work,’ he replied hurriedly. ‘I can work from London part of the week or commute every day by train. I can’t abandon my family, but I will always put you first, I promise.’
‘You need to come home? For good?’
‘Libby, home is wherever you are. And I’d never ask you to compromise your career or your dreams.’
She laughed, even as tears filled her eyes.
‘Oh god, Libby, I’m sorry. Please believe me, we’ll find a way to make this work.’
She kissed him. ‘Henry, I want to move to Somerset. Claire’s pregnant again, and our lives are changing whether we want them to or not. There are opportunities here that excite me more than doing the same thing in London without my best friend by my side. That chapter of my life is coming to an end and a new one is starting. Here, with you.’
‘You'd be happy to move to Foxbrooke with me?’
She nodded. ‘I’ve fallen in love with the countryside almost as much as I’ve fallen in love with you. This is where my dreams are now.’
He hesitated. ‘You know it’s not always summer here?’
‘I’ll adapt. As long as I can have a pair of yellow wellies, I’ll be more than happy.’
He grinned. ‘Deal.’
‘Although…’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m afraid I won’t be moving in with you on my own.’
His eyes widened.
‘Mr Pussy.’ She giggled. ‘We can’t leave him behind.’
He rested his forehead on hers. ‘Am I ever going to live that name down?’
She snorted. ‘Nope.’
‘You sure we can’t rename him?’ he asked hopefully. ‘I could ask very, very politely?’
Her heart fluttered. ‘And how might you ask impolitely?’
He held her gaze, his eyes darkening.
‘Let me show you,’ he replied, striding in the direction of the stairs.
36
Libby wasn’t sure her heart could withstand the excitement of being carried through the Manor by Henry. But when he kicked open the door of his bedroom with his riding boot, strode in and deposited her onto the bed, she was convinced she’d had a mini orgasm.
He tugged off his boots and socks then went to the door.
‘What are you doing?’ She was struggling to breathe against the confines of her bodice.
He raised an eyebrow, hung one of his socks on the handle outside, then closed the door and pushed a wardrobe up against it.
His eyes were on her as he approached the bed. He undid the buttons of his sodden shirt, then tugged it off and tossed it to the floor. Her mouth was dry, her breath stuttering. He unfastened the drapes attached to one of the four posters and tossed the silk ties onto her lap.
She glanced at them and swallowed.
When he finished with the final tie, the fabric fluttered into place, encasing her in a silken prison. He parted the curtain and crawled onto the bed, kneeling above her, his cravat in one hand and one of the ties in the other.
