“Then tell me what will or I’ll stay here on my knees before you until my legs go numb. I don’t mind telling you I’m rather dogged when the situation merits it.”
She wished he’d been dogged before he’d created all the wounds that seemed determined to keep reopening. “I don’t know that anything can help your cause now.”
But her traitorous heart made her picture him as he’d looked, worried and ashen-faced standing over her bedside. He’d nursed her to health. Hadn’t left her side. The fortnight since the accident had been filled with the first real happiness she’d ever experienced in her married life. However, maybe happiness was not meant to persist. Maybe it was fleeting, life’s way of lulling one into a false sense of contentment until the next runaway carriage came barreling down the road.
She wanted to tear her eyes from him and tell him to go to the devil once and for all, but something kept her trapped in his gaze and his presence. Part of her wanted to believe him. For surely he wouldn’t invite his mistress to the very home they shared after all that had passed between them. Surely their time together had meant at least half as much to him as it had to her.
“Believe me when I say that I’m sorry,” he continued as if he could sense her inner struggle. “I’m sorry for abandoning you here and for hurting you. I’m sorry for betraying our marriage vows. I’ve never been more bloody sorry in all my damn life.”
This was not the first time he’d given her an apology, but she had to admit in spite of herself that itwasthe first time his apology sounded…genuine. Yes, genuine. Could it be possible that he actually was sorry for his past behavior? That what she’d seen in the drawing room had not in fact been a lover’s embrace with that horrid woman? That he spoke the truth?
“I thank you for the apology,” she relented. “But I’m afraid it’s too little and far too late.”
He took her hands in his, bringing them to his lips for a kiss. “If I could go back and undo all the wrongs I’ve done, I would wholeheartedly do it, and I’d spare you all of this. I’d have cast aside my petty rebellion against the duke and my resentment, and I’d have seen you for who you truly are, a woman who is kind and good and blindingly lovely. I’d have been a proper husband to you. I swear it on my life, Victoria. But the fact is that I cannot change any of my mistakes. You saw one of the worst of them below in the drawing room. Her presence here is my fault and I won’t deny it. But don’t, for God’s sake, believe that I invited her here. I neither want nor need a mistress. You’re all I want.”
How could he vanquish all of her determination by dropping to his knees before her and giving her a pretty speech? She stared at him, feeling the anger lift from her chest, so too the hurt and the fear. Because he’d said exactly what she needed to hear. Because he was the man who’d given her pleasure against the wall of the music room, who’d thanked her for her work at Carrington House, the man who’d revealed his past to her, who’d noticed her dislike of eggs and the scent of her perfume, who’d saved her life and risked his own in the process. The man who’d held her hand as she lay bedridden and unconscious.
This man, the man on his knees before her who’d done all of those things, this man was the man she loved. She wanted to trust him. Wanted to believe him. God help her, if that made her a fool, then a greater fool had never lived.
“Stand,” she commanded him.
He complied with effortless grace, towering over her yet again. “Forgive me, darling. I’m so sorry for everything.”
Their hands were still joined, and she made no move to extricate herself. “Tell me why I should believe you now.”
“Because I love you,” he growled. “Jesus, there you have it. I don’t know when or how it happened, and I certainly didn’t even think such an emotion existed, but it’s the only explanation for the way I feel. Christ, I’m a milksop.”
Had he just said he’d fallen in love with her? Her dazed mind couldn’t even comprehend such a sudden reversal of fortune. Of course, there was the possibility that he merely said the words to make her forget about the sight of his opera singer in their drawing room.Maria.There was a name she could never, in good conscience, like again.
She frowned at him, more bemused than ever before. “Why would you say such a thing to me?”
“Because I’m an evil villain out to bend you to my whims,” he scoffed. “This isn’t a sensation novel, Victoria. I have no motive other than that I want you by my side for the rest of my life, and I’m not about to let a lightskirt or my own pride get in the way of that.”
Good heavens. She felt suddenly faint, as though all the air had been sucked from the room. “You love me?”
“I’ve begun to suspect that’s the odd sensation I’ve been feeling of late.” He gave her a self-deprecating grin. “You’re in my thoughts night and day. When I saw you felled by that branch, I thought I’d lost you. And I knew then that I never want to lose you. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Will you marry me, my darling?”
She laughed, grateful for the reemergence of his infallible sense of humor in this weighty moment. “We’re already married, you silly man.”
“Are we indeed?” He caught her about the waist, pulling her against him. “How fortuitous, for now I’m free to ravish you.”
An answering warmth pulsed between her thighs. She threw her arms around his neck and tunneled her fingers through his thick hair, holding him still as their gazes met. Before she gave in to what she wanted—what they both wanted—she would have his word. “Promise me you mean what you say, Will. Promise me that you love me.”
“Of course I mean what I say.” He feathered a kiss over her mouth, nipped her lower lip in a delicious little bite. “I promise. I love you, and I assure you that you’re quite stuck with me now.”
She dragged him to her for another kiss. He moaned, his large, knowing hands slipping down to cup her bottom. Too many layers of garments separated them. She longed for his hot, smooth skin, his broad chest against her aching nipples, his cock inside her. She longed for all of him and for everything he would do to her.
She opened for his tongue’s possessive thrust into her mouth. She could only follow her body and her heart where they led her now, and she wanted Will more than she wanted to breathe. Desire and the thrill of his admission vanquished practical thought.
Only feel.His words once more returned to her, and they held more allure than ever before. Perhaps he was leading her astray, but the path to ruin had never felt so glorious. Hurt and doubt fell away. His deft fingers found the hooks of her gown, plucking them from their moorings. He peeled her bodice to her waist. It wasn’t enough, not for either of them. The sound of rending fabric should have appalled her but it somehow had the opposite effect. Her corset cover and petticoats were gone, her silk pooled around her ankles. Her corset was next. All she had left was blind trust and the animal impulse within.
She pulled at the placket of his trousers. She needed to erase all memories of the awful Signora. Never again would she let another person come between them, she vowed to herself. Never again.
He broke their kiss, straightening to look down at her, his expression slack with passion. “Slow down, my dear. I want to make love to you.”
“Yes,” she whispered, need pulsing through her to her core. “Please, Pembroke.”
“Will,” he reminded her. “I find I’m ordinarily ‘Pembroke’ when you’re vexed with me.”
