He growled and drove harder as her wet heat clutched him. Relinquishing the last of his control, he threw back his head and let free a roar. Spasms racked him as he spilled himself until completely drained both emotionally and physically. Exhaustion slumped him, but he locked his elbows to keep from crushing her. He rained kisses across the curve of her salty-sweet neck and shoulder and reveled in her wonderful softness beneath him. The way she still clutched him made him consider telling their soon-to-arrive guests to enjoy supper without them. He and Sophie would remain here.
Her pounding heartbeat barely tickled against his chest as he hovered above her. With an insistent tug, she pulled him down on top of her. “I want you pressed against me,” she said with a breathless, purring giggle. “You feel so very nice this way.”
He treated himself to a long, slow kiss and realized he had not felt this contented in a long while. “This is better than nice, my darling Sophie. Much better.”
As she gazed up at him, her smile slipped the barest bit.
A surge of dread shot through him. “Stay with me here in the present, Sophie. Please do not let the ghosts of the past come between us again.”
She barely shook her head. “It’s… It is not that at all. I was just thinking we shall have to get ourselves sorted soon. After all, we must be ready to greet our guests.”
She was lying. He couldn’t very well accuse her of such, but he could see it in her eyes. Those same dark shadows of vulnerability and sadness she possessed whenever she lashed out about his mean-spirited ways of the past had returned. Damn his hide for being such a cocksure fool. If he had only treated that awkward young girl with kindness and consideration, how would that have changed things now?
He gently smoothed the wispy tendrils back from her face, wishing he could repair the damage between them in the blink of an eye, but knew it to be impossible. His only hope was that, in time, she would come to trust him and believe he would never hurt her again.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“You honored me with this moment, and I shall cherish it always.”
She frowned as she touched his cheek. “You speak as if this is the only such moment we shall ever have. That there will never be another like it.”
“Every moment we share is a rare and precious jewel that will never have another like it.” He kissed her forehead, lingering for a long moment before lifting his head and looking back down at her. “I know that now. I just wish I had known it years ago.”
The corners of her eyes flinched as if he had raised a hand to strike her. She cleared her throat and forced a cheerfulness he easily saw through. “I should ring for Marie,” she said. “It will take a while for hot water to be brought up. Shall I have her tell Thornton to send a footman to your rooms with some for you as well?”
He pushed himself up from the bed and started gathering up his clothes. “Yes, my swan. That would be most appreciated.” Her gentle dismissal stung him to the core. She had hoisted her shields to protect herself—from what, Nash wasn’t quite sure, but he knew he was at the center of it. A heavy sigh escaped him as he yanked on his pantaloons.
“Nash?” She sat there in the center of the bed, the linens modestly clutched to her throat, seeming almost worried. “Did I not perform my wifely responsibilities correctly?”
Her words chafed him, made him clench his teeth to keep from growling a response that would not be kind or appropriate. He ambled toward her as he buttoned his falls. “You could not have possiblyperformed your responsibilities, as you put it, more correctly except for one minor thing.”
She frowned. “And what was that?”
“You were not performing wifely responsibilities, nor was I claiming husbandly rights.” With his hands propped on the bed, he leaned across it until his nose was within inches of hers. “We made love, Sophie. We joined our bodies and consummated our union for all eternity.Thatis what we did. Not fulfilled duties, responsibilities, or rights. We did not have relations or sex, or commit the marriage act. We made love and shared an unforgettable bonding.”
A coldness fell across her, almost like a mask of impenetrable serenity he could never hope to breach. “It was very delightful, but love cannot be manufactured,” she said, “and I do not believe we should call something love when it is not. Either it flows from your heart and soul or it doesn’t. You made it abundantly clear earlier that we might becomefriendsrather than the enemies we have always been. Friends is what you said, Nash. Not two people in love with one another.” Her pensive gaze squeezed his heart in a merciless grip. “We are better served being honest and not calling something love when it is not. Do you not agree?”
“Why are you doing this?
“What?”
“You know damn well what.” He caught her by the shoulders and pulled her closer. “Why are you pushing me away after what we just shared?”
She stared up at him, her dark eyes deep pools filled with shadows. “I will never allow myself to love you again. Not under any circumstances. We shall be friends and work together to capture the blackmailer. That is all we shall ever be.” With a gentle touch to his cheek, she offered him a sympathetic smile. “Why are you behaving this way? You have never loved me.”
At that moment, confronted with that accusation, Nash understood without any doubt that he would come to love her with an all-consuming fury. But now was not the time to tell her. No. Now was the time for war, the time to battle for her heart and force her to love him again. “I simply did not appreciate your defining our marriage bed in such cold terms, because our passion is not nor ever shall be cold.”
Her head tilted the slightest bit, and she narrowed her eyes. “Forgive me. I shall make you a bargain. I will always refer to what goes on in our marriage bed as a sharing of passion to strengthen our union as long as you refrain from describing it as manufacturing, excuse me, asmakinglove. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”For now, he silently added. His beloved swan had no idea how tenacious he could be when he wanted something, and he damn sure wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything before. She would be his treasured wife, the mother of his children, and the woman he loved and needed more than air to breathe. And whether she believed it now or not, she would soon love him just as fiercely.
Chapter Seven
“You are absolutelyglowing,” Celia whispered as she and Sophie discreetly moved to a quieter part of the crowded drawing room. A subtle knowing colored her smile. “I see you wasted no time in consummating your marriage.” She cast a glance over at where Nash stood talking to the husbands of some of the greatest gossips among theton. “I cannot say as I blame you, sister. Your description of him did not do the man justice. Are you any better about this situation?”
“If anything, I am even more frustrated.” Sophie eyed the carefully selected guests, gauging if anyone stood close enough to overhear their conversation. With a forced smile that belied the chaos churning within her, she fought to keep her voice low. “I told him I would never allow myself to love him again, and the stubborn churl took it as a challenge. Men!” She huffed. “Maman was right. They always fight for whatever is denied them, whether they want it or not.”
