For a long time, they lay there, their breaths slowing in the hush of the amber glow of the room.
Her fingers drew idle patterns over his chest—circles, loops, a familiar soothing gesture she’d always done without thinking. He loved it. Wished he could maintain the perfection of this instant forever, but something niggled at his conscience, needing to be said.
“I’m sorry I carelessly released my seed inside,” he said. “But you must know, if there are consequences, I’ll stand by you. No matter what.”
It was the wrong thing to say. He felt it immediately in the stiffening of her body, her brief attempt to pull out of his arms. He had just heard how that sounded, how it must appear to her.
“Damn it. I didn’t mean it that way,” he said, holding her tighter. “I didn’t mean that I wouldonlystand by you if there were a child. I was merely trying to reassure you and apologize for taking the decision from you.”
Even in their younger, carefree first years of their marriage, they had always been careful to avoid pregnancy. It didn’t suit their lifestyle. He had used sheaths, or she had used sponges, or he had simply pulled out in time.
But now, at the most crucial moment of their entire relationship, when their feelings and future were uncertain, he had failed to protect her from unwanted consequences.
“It wasn’t your fault. I asked you to stay, didn’t I?” Her voice was brittle, trying to sound matter-of-fact but betraying her hurt. “In any case, you needn’t worry overmuch. I doubt anything will come of it. We have been successfully avoiding pregnancy for years, regardless of our…rather enthusiastic bedroom activities. And if it does.” She paused, giving a little shrug, “you might get your heir.”
“I’m not concerned about an heir right now. The truth is that the idea of you giving birth, after what we went through with Mrs. Phipps last night, fills me with cold dread.”
There had been so much blood. So much pain and suffering. He didn’t want to put Alice through that.
“Like I said, don’t worry too much about it. It will probably come to nothing.”
He was saying one thing, and she was understanding another. How could she be upset about him wanting to protect her?But she was. Probably thinking he didn’t want to have children with her. Which, in truth, he didn’t at the moment. But not for the reasons she was probably imagining. Bloody hell, it was so frustrating. The worst part was he couldn’t reassure her because he didn’t know himself. Dwelling on this subject would only bring unpleasantness, and he didn’t want to break the magic of this moment. A change of subject was in order.
He kissed the crown of her head and tightened his arms around her. Hunting for the one truth he could offer. “I wish this moment could stretch forever. I don’t want to leave this room,” he murmured.
She gave a soft, exhausted laugh that ended in a yawn. “Then don’t.”
And she snuggled closer to him, one of her legs sliding between his.
He smiled against her hair, but even as sleep began to tug at him, he couldn’t ignore the ache in his chest. How had their marriage been so thoroughly undone? Why had they let so many years slip between them? Was there any chance to recover what they had once had? Maybe forge something new between them? He didn’t know how he was supposed to let her go again, but the pain of her betrayal cut deep. Could he even forgive and move past that? Did she want that?
He didn’t know. But for today—for this one moment—he would ignore all the uncertainties and hold her as if she were still his.
Because in truth, in his heart, she always had been.
CHAPTER 13
Aliceresurfacedfromthebest sleep she’d had in weeks floating in glorious warmth. The memory of a deep, delicious heat that wrapped around her like a favorite blanket on a bitter winter morning. It radiated not just from her own body, cocooned in soft sheets, but from behind her—from the solid wall of muscle pressed to her back, from the heavy arm draped possessively around her waist, from the slow, steady rise and fall of a man’s chest as it brushed her shoulder blades.
For a blissful moment, she didn’t question it. She floated lazily in the twilight between dream and wakefulness, lingering in the memory of sun-dappled skin and a mouth tracing reverent paths down her body, the feel of strong hands cradling her hips, of Nathaniel moving deep inside her while sunlight streamed across their tangled limbs.
Her lips curved faintly. What a lovely dream.
But then a faint draft brushed her bare shoulder, and her eyes cracked open to see a muted glow slipping in through the curtains. Daylight?
Her mind jerked to full wakefulness. Daylight. Midday, judging by the brightness. She never slept during the day. Not even after missions that left her half-dead with exhaustion.
And that was when it hit her. The warmth wasn’t just a memory—it was Nathaniel. Real and solid. His arm heavy at her waist, his palm cupping over her breast in a loose cradle, his long legs tangled with hers.
Nathaniel. Her husband.
She went perfectly still, her heart thudding violently as the memories rushed back—not of a dream but of reality. His mouth on hers. His hands caressing her skin. The way they had come together in the early hours of the dawn—not with frantic need, not with anger or grief, but with tenderness so deep it had cracked her open.
It had been wonderful. Too wonderful.
And he had stayed. Not just for the act but afterward, holding her close in the golden light of their bedchamber, as though he still loved her.
Except… Her stomach tightened. Hadn’t he immediately regretted running the risk of impregnating her? As soon as the moment of culmination passed, he had bemoaned his lack of control as he considered the consequences of getting her with child.
