“Roderick?” she said softly.
He started and turned. Now her breath was gone entirely. His hair was messy, rivulets of water streaked down his handsome face and neck, dripping onto his chest. Her hands shook from wanting to touch him, like a wanton who couldn’t control herself. In that moment, she didn’t give a damn. She could only hope she hadn’t ruined all this, that he might still want her if she could only find the right words to coax him back to her side for a little while.
“Clarissa,” he said, and he smiled. The relief that filled her at that gentle expression was almost overwhelming. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked at them so he wouldn’t see.
She gathered the paper-wrapped book closer to her chest like it was a shield against the vulnerability she felt in that moment. “I-I didn’t know when you would return after…after our quarrel last night.”
His expression softened a little. “I worried you.”
She didn’t want to, but she found herself nodding. He said nothing, but closed the distance between them in a long step. Gently, he removed the book from her arms and set it aside on the closest table, then took her hand. His fingers intertwined with hers, skin stroking skin before he lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles.
“I’m so sorry. I only planned to be gone a short time this morning, but I was distracted by other duties that came up. I should have sent word. If it happens again, I will.”
She blinked at the unexpected reaction. “I-I’m being silly.”
He shook his head. “Oh, Clarissa. It’s not silly to feel as you feel. You can always do that with me.”
Something inside of her fluttered and she tugged her hand from his. He let her go and said nothing as she turned toward the table where he had placed her gift. “I’m glad you returned,” she said, tryingto keep her tone as normal as possible when it felt like her heart was in her throat. “I have something for you.”
He looked at the package. “For me?”
She nodded as she picked it up and held it out. “I meant to give it you yesterday until…”
He took it. “A gift?”
He sounded astonished at the idea and now her nerves returned. What it he didn’t like it? Or thought it silly? Or didn’t even recall the tenuous connection they’d made over Shakespeare weeks ago? She reached for the package. “Perhaps we should wait.”
He was already tugging the ribbon. “No, I’d love to see it.” The paper fell away and he stared at the book for a moment, his reaction unclear until he looked at her again and she saw his gaze lit up with pure pleasure.
In that moment she knew, in a way she’d tried to ignore and pretend away and keep at a distance, that she was going to end up with her heart broken by him. There was nothing she could do about it.
CHAPTER 18
Roderick couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful volume ofOthellothat he held in his trembling hands. This gift Clarissa had chosen and likely paid for with whatever she had left from her pin money after she’d given the rest away to her parents. It was meaningful, personal, something that called back to the first fragile link they’d made to each other back at the country estate.
He looked up at her and when their eyes locked there was lightning. Terrifying, scalding, changing lightning. The kind he had sought all his life and told himself he would find with only one woman.
It was this woman. He didn’t only like her or want her or need to protect her.
Helovedher. And he could see in that same flash of revealing fire that he would only grow to love her more and more deeply as they came to know each other better over the long years of marriage.
She shifted and dropped her gaze away. “You—you’re pale.”
He shook his head. This wasn’t the time to confess this feeling. She wasn’t ready, she still had too many defenses up around her. “I don’t think anyone has ever given me a gift so precious since I lost my dear parents.”
“You like it?” she said, and her relief was palpable.
“I do.” He looked at the volume again. “Oh, it’s lovely. Perfect.”
She smiled and that expression lit up everything in the room, in the world. He set the book down to be fully explored later and reached for her. He was relieved she didn’t step away, but allowed him to take her hand and draw her close.
“I love it,” he whispered, but he didn’t mean the book. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know that yet. He could still say it as he looked into her eyes.
She lifted her lips and he met them. This was the only place she ever fully let go, when they went to bed together. For now that would be enough and he surrendered to the pleasure of her touch and the connection they would make when they made love.
He drew his fingers into her thick, dark hair, drawing satiny locks down around them as she let out a little sigh of pleasure into his mouth. He took the entry that granted him and deepened the kiss. She tasted of tea and sugar and he loved that flavor of her. Wanted to bathe in it, drown in it. Her arms came up around his neck and she leaned against him, tilting her head to give herself to him.
She was his. More to the point, he was hers. He wanted to show her that. Show her that her ardor and her feelings and her passions would never be too much for him. That she could show them without worry.
