She listened to his slowing breathing as her own uproar subsided. With returning calm came such a forceful floodtide of emotion Jane was immobilized by it. Again she felt the urge to weep. And this time she knew with utter clarity that it was because she loved the earl.
Two years ago she had loved him with a schoolgirl’s naïveté and infatuation. Now her love was something more, something deep. She recognized that his absence in her life prevented her from attaining fulfillment and completion. There was still the stunning physical attracton that had been there from the start, but there was more, so much more. Jane knew she needed him. She needed his strength, his protection, even though she was a wholly capable and independent woman. And Jane knew he needed her. She knew, with utter clarity, that she could chase away his demons, heal his heart, that she could bring light and ease into his life. Oh, how she wanted to do so!
How she wished he would touch her, hold her.
How she wanted to touch him, hold him.
She didn’t know what to do, and she wanted to do something. She didn’t know what to say, but something must be said. She was absolutely determined that they would not go back to separate beds and that the earl would get rid of his mistresses. Gently she must ease him down this path.
And make him love her. Just a little.
I’m a fool, she thought. She knew how hard the earl was. Knew he would never love any woman, and certainly not her. But maybe, one day, he would come to care for her as his friend, supporter, and wife.
Recklessly Jane rolled onto her side to snuggle against him, her face to his shoulder, breast to his arm, knee to knee. He went stiff.
Jane was rigid too. But she did not back down. Her lips were against his damp skin and she pressed them there. She felt him relaxing then, and abruptly he shifted toward her and pulled her into his embrace.
He kissed her. It was slow and leisurely, yet it brought a new sensual onslaught. His hand slid down her back in a soft, tender caress. Jane touched his ribs, explored them, while their tongues mated. The earl broke the kiss, pulling her partly beneath him, rose up so he could look down into her face fully. Jane gazed back steadily. She wanted to smile, but just couldn’t.
Finally he spoke, low and husky. “You’re so beautiful.”
And she did smile. “So are you.”
This turned up the chiseled curve of his mouth. “I’m not sure that is a compliment.”
“Oh, it is.”
His gaze darkened. There was something profound and sincere in his eyes, something deep and desperate, yet Jane could not decipher what she saw, and sensed. He kissed her hungrily, then rained kisses upon her face and throat and chest.
It was as if he could not get enough of her, or as if he were afraid that this moment was just that, only a moment and there would be no more. Jane felt his fear, his need. It fueled her response to his lovemaking.
After, they lay entwined together in each other’s arms. Jane’s heart was bursting with joy and breaking with sorrow. She loved this man, and the pain of loving him was nearly unbearable. Yet bear it she knew she would.
He would leave her now, she thought miserably, as he shifted onto his side. Yet he groped for her, hauled her again into his embrace, and kissed her once on the shoulder. Jane realized that the earl had fallen asleep.
Tears came to her eyes. She snuggled close unabashedly, watching him sleep, the lines of ravage upon his face softer now. Her heart tripped heavily. She prayed he would not wake up, prayed he would spend the night with her in its entirety.
For Jane was determined. From this day forward they would be man and wife in all senses of the word.
When Jane awoke to bright, midmorning sunlight, the bed was empty and the earl was gone.
She cuddled deep into his pillow, smiling. She had barely slept all night, unable to do more than doze beside him. In the middle of the evening he had awakened to go to the W.C. Jane had thought he was leaving her, adjourning to his study. She had feigned sleep, vastly disappointed. Yet he had only gone to the toilet and then he returned, climbing into bed beside her and hauling her into his arms. His kisses began on her neck, his hands gentle on her buttocks. Soon they were making love again.
Jane laughed, stretching like a cat. The earl was a magnificent man. Handsome and virile and smart—and she was in love.
Would he come to her tonight?
If he went out with Amelia she would be devastated.
She had an urge, but it was too brash and bold for this stage of their relationship. It was too soon to invite him to sup with her after her performance. She would have to come home and hope he was here, waiting for her.
Downstairs, Thomas informed her that the earl was already gone for a business appointment, and Jane was disappointed. She felt as if she were merely living for the next time she saw him, and told herself to stop being such a besotted fool. Yet she could no more deny her heart than she could take wing and fly. Indeed, it was as if she flew through the day, floating on clouds, her thoughts filled with him.
As was becoming customary, Jane gathered Chad and Nicole after their early supper to read to them. She chose another fairy tale, and had just begun when she sensed his presence and looked up. Purposefully she had left the door wide open.
The earl stood in breeches and tweed jacket, his tie dangling from his hand. His gaze dwelled solely upon her, steady, unflinching, unfathomable.
“Papa!” Chad shouted, running to hug him.
