“I want to believe you,” Izzy said, looking torn.
“Then believe me. It is as simple as that.” He turned his head, pressing a kiss to her gloved palm.
“I wish it were.”
“It is if you will allow it,” he countered, for he could be every bit as stubborn as she was. And this was a battle he was determined to win.
She looked away, focusing on the window and the scenery slowly slipping by. “My lord, please.”
“Zachary,” he corrected. “Say it.”
She sighed. “Zachary.”
He should have been pleased at her surrender, but she was still gazing out the damned window as if she would find the answer to all their problems there. She would not, and he wanted her here, in the moment, with him.
“Look at me, Izzy.” He waited until she met and held his gaze before continuing. “Believe me. You say you want this honeymoon, which means you must, in some way, want me.”
“Wanting you is not the problem,” she said softly. “Trusting you is.”
There was a blow he did not want, a reminder of the obstacles facing them. Obstacles he had so stupidly helped to create. If only he had not been inebriated that night. If only he had not stopped to speak with Beatrice. If only he had sent her from Barlowe Park and from his life immediately after Horatio’s death, instead of allowing her to remain like the contagion she was. But he had not. The past was permanent. Only the future was his to change.
He leaned into her, kissing her cheek, inhaling the decadent scent of her perfume. “I have said it before, and I will say it again, I am not Penhurst. I’ll not forsake you for another.”
“I believed he would not do so either, and look at where it left me,” she said, a slight tinge of bitterness in her voice that raised his ire.
Curse Arthur Penhurst to the devil.
“Yes,” he said instead of giving in to the jealousy that would likely forever haunt him where the other man was concerned. “Look at where it has left you,here, in my arms. In this carriage with me. My wife instead of his. I cannot honestly say I have a single regret about that. I like you here with me, Izzy. Ineedyou here. This is where you belong.”
She bit her lip, considering him, her countenance pensive. Uncertain.
“If you do not believe me, then I will show you.” He angled his head, his position such that little movement was required, and took her lips.
She responded instantly, a breathy sigh he drank down, this victory, as tiny as the others before it, fanning the flames. He kissed her slowly this time, unhurried, making love to her mouth the same way he longed to make love to her body. Once in the grass by the little falls had not been sufficient.
But he did not fool himself. He was drunk on desire for her. No matter how many times he made love to her, it would never be enough. And perhaps if he could remind her of all the ways their bodies worked so well together… If he brought her back to the wild pleasure they had shared, she would find it easier to forget about the not-so-distant past.
He tore his lips from hers, kissing down her throat where her skin was supple and smooth above the high collar of her travel suit and soft, so soft. Kissed to where her pulse beat a rapid staccato against his lips. She was not unaffected. She never had been. Her body wanted him every bit as much as his longed for hers. It was her mind that was the problem, telling her to resist him.
There was one benefit to having spent the last eight years of his life devoted to sexual endeavors. He knew how to seduce a woman. It occurred to him that perhaps he had been viewing the matter with Izzy from the wrong perspective. His love for her did not preclude him from wooing her. She was different from the women he had known before her, yes. She was special.Loved. But the strongest language of all remained desire.
At the moment, it seemed the only path to her heart.
He opened his mouth and gently sucked her neck, gratified by her breathy gasp, the way her fingers tightened on his shoulders, holding him to her. By the way her head tipped back, granting him more access. He pressed his advantage, unhooking the clasp on her collar and peeling back the twain ends of her smart jacket to reveal the bodice beneath. It was a brilliant carmine, in stark contrast to the gray of her skirts. Here she was, his bold and bright darling.
But the decolletage was also far too modest, denying him access to what he wanted most, more Izzy. Fortunately, he was no stranger to getting a woman out of her dress. He made short work of more hidden hooks and eyes, parting her bodice to reveal creamy skin. Her breasts rose high and full, cupped by her corset, spilling over her chemise. His cock twitched at the presentation. God, she was lovely.
Lovely andhis.
He set his lips back on her, kissing to the place where her throat and shoulder met, then to the hollow at the base of her throat where a necklace nestled, previously hidden by her layers. Gold and emerald to match her eyes. But no gem could compare to the vitality and vibrance of her gaze. The metal was warm, and he knew a moment of jealousy for that necklace, nestled so close to her skin.
He inhaled deeply, bringing her scent into his lungs, savoring. He had waited for this, to have her willingly in his arms again. And he was determined not to squander the gift. He wanted to make her burn for him the way he did for her.
He caught the frilled edge of her chemise and pulled it down. Another tug of her corset, and her breasts spilled over the top, bare and glorious. Tipped with pink nipples that were already pebbled and waiting for him.
He lowered his head and took one hard little bud into his mouth, sucking hard.
She moaned, her touch moving to his head from his shoulders, fingers tunneling through his hair. Encouraged by her response, he took her other nipple into his mouth, then caught it between his teeth and gently tugged. She was exquisitely sensitive here, and he bloody well loved it.
