“Do you wake up like this often?”
“Every morning.”
Her eyes widened, and she twisted her head to meet his amused eyes.
“We get to do this every morning?”
He flashed a grin. “A man can only hope. However, being the considerate bridegroom, I must ask: are you sore, love?”
After a quick assessment, she said regretfully, “A little.”
He rolled her onto her back, kissing her on the nose. “I was too greedy last night.”
He hadn’t been the only one. She’d lost track of how many times she came, the night a blur of ecstasy. After he’d taken her the first time, they’d refreshed themselves with champagne and fed each other leftover cream puffs. He’d teased her for getting cream on her nose, then licked it off. When he bit into a cream puff, filling had squirted out and landed squarely on his member. Warmth flooded her as she thought of her boldness. Of the way she’d bent down and teasingly licked the cream from him…
“Although I wasn’t the only one with an appetite, was I?”
Conrad’s knowing smirk made her blush even harder.
“You need time to recover. Moreover.” He cleared his throat. “There is something we need to discuss.”
His somber expression gave her pause.
“This sounds serious.”
“It is rather. Here, allow me to see to your comfort first.”
As he arranged the pillows for her, her wariness grew.
She sat up. “Have I done something wrong?—”
“No.”
He pressed her gently against the fluffed pillows before settling against the headboard beside her. He took her hand, interlacing their fingers.
“The only thing you’ve done is to make me the luckiest bastard alive,” he said.
While that was reassuring, she sensed his brooding tension. “Then what do you wish to discuss?”
“I have something to tell you. It will not change anything between us, but it…it will change things. In general, I mean. And for the better, I hope.”
Conrad was nervous, she realized. As he was rarely so, her anxiety increased.
“Just tell me,” she begged.
“The truth is, Gigi…I am not who you think I am.”
Startled, she said, “Would you care to clarify?”
He drew a breath. “I was not born Conrad Godwin.”
Alarm jolted her. “Then who are you?”
“I am going to tell you all of it, I promise,” he said earnestly. “But I must start at the beginning for this to make sense. Please bear with me, sweetheart. You have my word that you have nothing to worry about?—”
“Nothing to worry about?” Her voice trembled. “The morning after my wedding, the man I married is telling me he isn’t who he claimed to be!”
“I am Conrad Godwin. It’s just that I am…well, I’m someone else, too.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “When you asked about my family, I told you my parents died when I was young, and all of that is true. My mama was a beautiful but poor commoner. She was hired to be a nurse to an older gentleman who was her senior by three decades. The two fell in love, and despite the objections of the gentleman’s three sons from his first marriage, he married her. A year later, I was born.”
