“It’s customary for a husband to give his wife jewelry on the day they marry,” he said as he ambled over to a vanity, picked up a long, slender black velvet box, and extended it toward her. Inside had to be a necklace, but one so large that it would dwarf her. Still she would wear it every day for the remainder of her life.
“I don’t want us doing things because it’s customary. I want us doing things because we want to do them.”
“Iwantto give you this.”
She opened the hinged lid and stared at the scrolled vellum. As she lifted it out, he took the box from her. She unrolled her gift and read the words, surprised, pleased... overjoyed. If it meant what she thought it meant. “It’s a deed to a property. The address is—” She looked up at him, her brow furrowed. “It’s the bookshop.”
“Your brother is a hard bargainer.”
“You purchased it?”
“I did. In your name.” He shook his head. “The law will say it’s mine, but it’s yours. I have Lassiter working to find a way to circumvent the law so no matter what happens, the property is seen as belonging to you. Do with it as you will.”
Tears burned her eyes. “You know me so well. There is no gift I would have treasured more. I won’t spend all my time there.”
“I shall hope not. You’ll need to host dinners and such in order to convince people to donate to your efforts to teach adults to read.”
Smiling brightly, she pressed the scroll to her chest. “I own my own bookshop. Even my eldest brother wouldn’t give me that.” She flung her arms around his neck. “Oh, Matthew, thank you.” She kissed the underside of his jaw. “Thank you.” She kissed his chin. “Thank you.”
Then their mouths met, and the vellum fluttered to the floor, as passion rose up, hot, bold, and wild.
“Matthew?”
“Yes, my love?”
“I don’t want to wait to have children.”
Straightening, he cupped her face between his hands and smiled warmly. “I shall endeavor to accommodate your wishes.”
He kissed one side of her mouth and then the other before settling his lips against hers. When she parted them for him, he slowly, tenderly, mated their tongues, an ancient ritual of dancing and sparring. No rush. No hurry. As though they had all night. As though they had the rest of their lives.
While she hated to admit it, she’d felt a spark of guilt when they’d come together before, had worried about being a fallen woman. But now she experienced nothing but pure, unadulterated joy. They were legal. Any children she gave birth to would be legal. They would not be looked down upon because of the circumstances of their birth. They would know their father as the good man he was. They would be surrounded by aunts, uncles, and cousins who loved them.
Without breaking away from the kiss, she began loosening his buttons.
“Anxious, are you?” he teased against her lips.
“Very much so. We need to put your deft fingers to work.”
Chuckling low, he did just that, and in short order, their clothes were strewn about the floor and they were strewn about the bed, a tangle of limbs, bodies gliding and sliding as mouths kissed, bit, and suckled. It seemed impossible that her skin could be more sensitive to his touch, and yet it was, as though it had learned that the movements of his fingers signaled that pleasure was waiting in the wings and would be arriving at any moment.
“I can’t sleep when you’re not in my bed, in my arms,” he rasped as his tongue laved the peak of her breast.
“Then you should sleep well tonight.” She nipped at the curve where neck met shoulder, then sucked passionately, knowing she would leave a mark, but wanting some evidence that she was there, and would be again. Night after night. Day after day.
“My parents slept in separate bedchambers. I don’t want that for us.”
“Neither do I.” Tossing back the thick waves of her hair, she straddled him. “I’ve waited for you my entire life. Why wouldn’t I want to sleep with you?”
Spreading his fingers on either side of her face, he brought her down for a kiss, plunging his tongue sure and deep, circling and stroking. Sliding his hands down her back, he pressed her to him, and rolled until she was on bottom, he on top. He gazed down on her with so much love reflected in the green depths of his eyes that she nearly wept. A corner of his mouth hitched up. “Fancy Sommersby.”
“Today you gave me your name. I gave you my heart.”
“I think you gave me your heart before.”
She nodded. “And you gave me my shop.”
“That’s just the start of everything I’m going to give you.”
