Simon chuckled, his expression wry. “You are so wise, milady. Remember that I spent years roaming around Portugal and Spain as an exploring officer and never suffered a major injury. This should be less dangerous.”
She leaned back in his arms and gave him a crooked smile. “I don’t think I want to know what you consider aminorinjury! It would probably just make me worry more. My job, I presume, is to stay here and keep the household safe and sane.”
“Exactly.” He frowned. “I think it very unlikely, but if the French should invade, the city will run mad. Stock supplies of food and ammunition before then, and if trouble comes banging on the door—well, use your best judgment for keeping everyone safe. If rumors of French invasion send half the city fleeing to Antwerp or Ghent, it will be wisest to sit tight here and not risk getting caught in a mob of panicky people.”
She shivered. “I agree. Staying here should be safe enough. I’m French and so are half the other people in the household. Brussels is at heart a French city and I wouldn’t think Napoleon and his generals will want to burn it.”
“I pray you’re right, but in war, anything is possible.” He took her shoulders, gazing into her eyes as if sheer force of will could keep her safe. “If the worst happens and you must flee Belgium, go home to England and wait for me. I’ll find you there.”
She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Brussels without him. Home was where Simon was. “We’ve been talking too much. Time is running out. Let’s not waste another moment. Unlace me, please.” She turned so he could undo her gown and stays.
“With the greatest of pleasure,ma belle.” His deft fingers unfastened her gown and stays with amazing swiftness even with pauses for provocative touching.
She turned back to him, yanking off her outer layers. “You’re wearing far too many garments, milord. Tonight I want to show you all that I am, and I want to take all that you have.”
He caught his breath, understanding her meaning. They’d married in winter and began sharing a bed under layers of blankets. Advancing spring had meant fewer covers and increasingly thorough explorations of each other’s bodies, but they had never seen each other unclothed. Suzanne simply hadn’t been ready to feel that vulnerable even with Simon.
One night in bed as they held each other, he’d murmured that someday he wanted to see her as God had made her, but being Simon, he’d said nothing more. He’d left the choice to her. Tonight she chose to take the final steps that would bring their marriage to a state of intimacy that she had been unable to accept until now.
After all that had been between them and the separation that was to come, it was time to be the woman Simon deserved.
“As milady desires.” He’d removed his coat earlier, and now shirt and trousers and undergarments went flying, along with several buttons. His gaze remained locked on her as she sat on a chair to strip off her stockings and toss them aside.
She was equally riveted by the sight of him. The magnificent shoulders and broad chest that she’d discovered with touch. Narrow waist, powerful thighs. The exact right amount and pattern of dark, masculine hair. He was beautiful in the way only men could be, sleek with power and potent masculinity, equally warrior and protector.
Her throat tight, she stood and slowly drew her chemise over her head, revealing herself fully. He whispered, “You are even lovelier than I dreamed,ma belle.”
He stepped toward her and she held up a hand to stop him. “There is one more thing you must see.” Steeling herself, she turned so he could see her back. She felt his stillness when he saw the scarlet tattoo that marked the curve of her derriere. “The mark of Gürkan,” she said flatly. “So all would know who owned me.”
She couldfeelhis silent rage flashing like lightning behind her. Then Simon stepped forward and gently kissed the tattoo. “And now the mark of the bravest, freest woman I’ve known.”
With his words and his gesture, the last of her shame vanished. She turned and kissed him with fierce urgency. Body to body, skin to skin, heat to heat.
There had been increasing passion between them, but she’d never initiated it and never like this. He met her with the fullness of desire that he’d been banking until she was ready. Now she was ready,mon Dieu,she was ready!
The bed was only a few steps away. She’d pulled the covers all the way down earlier, and now they tumbled onto the sheets together, hands and mouths eager, inventive, devouring. She had a dizzy moment of wondering why it had taken so long to get to this place, and then she stopped bothering to wonder.
Later this night, they would take their time, but not now, not for this coruscating explosion of need. They were lying on their sides, hands demanding, mouths engaged, legs tangled together. Then his fingers slid between her thighs and she cried out with the intensity of the sensations.
When her hips thrust against him, he breathed, “Now?”
“Now!”For the first time, she pushed him onto his back and mounted him, feeling his full strength and heated nakedness. Slowly at first, to make sure that they were properly aligned. Slowly still because she was tight and wanted to savor the rich sense of joining. And slowly because she saw that she was driving him mad, his chest heaving and his eyes wild as his hands cupped her bottom, holding her against him.
Control vanished into mutual madness, incinerating and devastatingly right. They had been building toward this since their marriage and the first delight in touching.
No, they had begun this long journey to intimacy when she was fifteen and he was seventeen and they had felt the power of innocent mutual attraction that could not be acted on because it wasn’t their time.
Nowwas their time and she couldn’t bear to waste another moment before this ultimate consummation. She shattered, locking her body to his with arms and legs and biting his shoulder as he poured himself into her.
Utterly spent, she lay gasping as she melted against him, wanting her skin as close to his as humanly possible. He pulled the covers over them and said with a hint of laughter, “I think you now most certainly have had all of me.”
She had to laugh, too, and then she wept with completion and joy. And Simon, being Simon, understood without words.
Chapter 35
Simon woke at dawn and knew that he’d never been happier in his life. Suzanne was draped across him, head on his shoulder, a smile on her face, one arm around his waist, and a glorious cascade of darkly shining hair spilling over her upper body.
Beyond her, on the corner of the bed, he saw that little Leo had the cat genius for passing through doors because he was curled up on the foot of the bed. He blinked at Simon, then closed his eyes again, looking as happy as Simon felt. Of course they were both happy—they were sharing a bed with Suzanne Duval, the double Comtesse of Chambron, who was quite possibly the loveliest woman in Europe.
