“You’re safe, my love,” Alister said gently. “We made it back to Eversleigh House.”
She blinked the last of the cobwebs of sleep away. Dawn was just breaking out across the sky and while it might have been a ridiculous thing to say, she couldn’t help but turn to him and whisper, “It’s Christmas.”
He chuckled wearily and helped her down. “Indeed, my love. So, it is.”
Instantly, the front door opened and Mara came running down the steps. “Thank God!” she cried as she threw herself into Roarke’s arms, nearly before he’d had time to hand over the reins to his groom.
“Surely you didn’t doubt my ability to come through as a shining hero?” he whispered into her blonde hair.
“Rogue,” she returned, although her green eyes were full of pride and adoration.
Lyra spoke up in all sincerity. “I’m sorry I missed helping you decorate the tree.”
Mara gently disentangled herself from her husband’s embrace and took Lyra’s hands in her own. “It’s just a tree. The point is that we’re all here, safe and sound.”
Lavinia appeared, and after a tearful greeting, Lyra hugged her mother amidst a few sniffles. “Just when I think our troubles might be at an end…” The dowager’s words trailed off as she shook her head.
“We’re fine, Mama.”
“And I couldn’t have asked for a better gift,” her mother returned with a watery smile.
“I don’t know about you,” Roarke sighed as he turned to Alister. “But I could certainly use a bath and a decent bit of sleep myself.”
“Indeed,” Alister said evenly. “But first I need to send a missive to Lord Liverpool with an update and to let him know about Drayven and Talon.”
“Feel free to use my study,” Roarke offered. With that, he went upstairs with his wife, while Lavinia returned to her room.
Once they were alone, Alister cupped Lyra’s cheek and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead. “You need your rest. I’ll send a note round to my townhouse to have a few of your things sent over. I’ll join you shortly.”
She was reluctant to leave him, but with a weary nod, she climbed the stairs to her old room. No doubt Alister’s servants would be confused as to where they might have to drag her trunk to next, but she would just be glad to have something clean to wear. Until then, she would just have to make do with her chemise. After rinsing away the last vestiges of her tiresome ordeal, Lyra climbed into bed and drifted to sleep the moment she laid her head on her pillow. It wasn’t until a pair of strong arms encircled her from behind that she stirred.
Alister was nuzzling her neck. She inhaled deeply and sighed at the clean scent of him, mixed with the smell of pure male that was all his own. His hand slid underneath her chemise to gently cup and caress her breasts. She felt as if this was a dream, but when a light moan dared to escape, she knew his presence was all too real. He gently turned her to face him, and after removing the thin material from her body, they were in each other’s arms.
Their hands and lips and tongues were everywhere, skin against blessed skin in a frenzy of desperate lust and need until the moment he entered her in one firm thrust.
Lyra cried out as he made love to her with everything that he possessed, neither one of them holding anything back. No words were required, for they were equally vulnerable, and exposed, and when he spilled himself inside of her, she climaxed around him in a sensation so complete that she abandoned any misgivings that might have remained.
Afterward, when their breathing had returned to normal, he turned to give her a gentle kiss on the nose. “You’re so beautiful that I might never want to leave this room.”
“I’m perfectly fine with that.” Lyra grinned.
He growled and attacked her with a playful nip to her earlobe. “Wench.”
* * *
As Lyra stepped from the copper tub that evening, her maid handed her a towel to dry off. Next, she helped her into a set of undergarments, chemise, drawers and corset, before Lyra pulled on her stockings. After she settled her green velvet gown into place, Lyra’s maid styled her hair into a becoming chignon with a few golden curls left loose to frame her face and neck. The servant clasped a pearl necklace around her neck and attached a set of earbobs. The finishing touch was the crimson shawl she draped over her shoulders. It was the one that Alister had purchased for her in Gretna Green.
Lyra couldn’t help but stare at her reflection when she was finished. For so long she’d hated looking at that sad, pinched woman in the mirror, but now…
The lady looking back at her quite literally beamed.
Her love for Alister had effectively enhanced her features, more so than any rouge or powder. Her dark eyes sparkled, and her cheeks blossomed with healthy color. Her lips held a secretive smile, and her skin glowed with inner happiness.
The last time she’d dared to look at herself this closely had been nearly two months ago when she had fled Weston House and came here, where she’d professed to Roarke that she had killed Roger. That day she had sat in this very room with the curtains drawn and merely stared at her image by the dim glow of a single candle.
Her youthful face had been beaten and battered until she hadn’t recognized the person staring back at her. Those haunted eyes had dared her to give up, and she very well might have if it hadn’t been for the abrupt arrival of her sister-in-law. Mara’s return into her brother’s life had given Lyra hope that, just when things appeared at their darkest, a single ray of sunshine could intrude on a dismal day, that a rainbow could be seen through the clouds, and that love could be found among the ruins in a broken, cynical heart.
She never imagined that, as jaded as she’d been after Roger’s death, she would ever have someone who truly cared about her. At the very least, she might have found a life of peace, perhaps even taken a lover at some point, but the moment Alister had entered her life, he’d made her believe in something more.
