But it was warm and soft as velvet, this new feeling.
It made her want to kiss her husband.
And throw her arms around his neck. Kiss him until they both needed to pull away and gulp in air. Do something—make some grand gesture which could compare, at least in a small way, to the sacrifices he had made to ensure she and Charlotte could be spirited away to Yorkshire, far from the reaches of whomever had been intent upon tearing apart her London townhome.
At least for now, if their campaign continued, neither she nor her daughter would be present to face further danger. Unless whoever it was that had been responsible found them here in Yorkshire.
The reminder sent a shiver of fear skating down her spine. Just as she had told him, they may well have this black cloud hanging over them forever.
“Thank you for protecting us,” she said instead of giving voice to the whirlwind of emotions besetting her.
Hoping Yorkshire was far, far away from George’s former associates. Beyond their notice and reach. Hopefully, the clandestine manner in which she and Roland had married, then left for the countryside, would go unnoticed for a time.
“I am yours, Pippa.” His voice was as solemn as his gaze, his dark stare intent upon hers. “I have always, only, ever been yours. I care for you a great deal, and I care for Char-char just as much. The two of you are a gift I do not deserve but am more than willing to claim as my own.”
My own.
Those two words, the warmth in them, fitted inside the cracked spaces within her heart as if they were a key made specifically to unlock. He always knew the right thing to say, to do. And not in the same way George had.
Roland’s words and deeds came from a place of true compassion and understanding. He was not flowery or ebullient. He did not seek to charm or distract. But rather, he was earnest. She felt it to her marrow. Meanwhile, George’s interactions with her had been so very different. How many times had he spoken atop her, faster than her? Always quick to praise, to tell her precisely what she would wish to hear, and with a smooth polish she could now, from the vantage point of the future, see had been entirely manufactured with one goal.
Manipulating her into doing whatever he wished. Whatever benefitted him the most.
Yes, having experienced the insincere, Pippa could now clearly see the difference.
“I am grateful to you,” she managed. “More than I can properly convey. I know you did not wish for the burden of myself and Charlotte, that you had no intention of marrying, and I appreciate your sacrifice on our behalf.”
“Neither of you are burdens.”
But they were. “We have altered the course of your life.”
“Because I asked you to.” He was firm.
“Have you changed your mind then, about not wanting children of your own and having no wish for an heir?”
It was the only sensible conclusion she could draw. Last night’s lovemaking must have altered the course of his mindset.
“I lost control last night.” He continued the slow, steady exploration of her back. Long strokes. His touch was light enough to comfort and yet firm enough to entice. “You need not fear I will make demands of you.”
Oh, but she was glad for it. Glad he had lost control. Glad for the wildness and the wickedness, for the frenzy and the furor of their coupling. For the starlight and the chance to remember what it felt like to be desired. Another thought that had been keeping her awake through the interminable hours of the night had been the realization that she had never known such potent intimacy in her previous marriage. Even before Charlotte’s birth, George’s attentions had been hasty and often unfulfilling. He had never devoted himself to her pleasure. And after Charlotte’s birth…well, he had seldom visited her. And now she knew why.
But she would not think any more of him or his infidelity and deceptions. He could no longer hurt her. The man holding her in his arms now only wanted to protect her. She understood that. He told her so not just in words but in deeds as well.
“What if I want you to?” she asked Roland before she could stifle the bold question.
He stilled. “You want me to wish for more children, or you want me to make demands of you?”
“It would not be a demand.”
“Speak plainly, if you please. I need to know what it is you want. You have suffered enough manipulations, and I would never dream of coaxing you into sharing my bed if that is not what you desire.”
“You.” There it was, her answer, what she wanted. “I want you, Roland.”
His lips claimed hers in a fiery kiss.
Chapter 16
They made it to the great hall before they were interrupted by a loud, whining howl. After exchanging exquisite kisses in the music room, Pippa was flushed and ready for more. Roland was determined to make their second time everything he felt the first ought to have been. She had assured him last night beneath the stars had been everything she could have wanted. He had countered he was having her in the softness of a bed this time. Preferably all afternoon and evening long.
