Sighing, he dragged a hand down his face. Anything to ease the gnawing ache inside him. “I’m listening.”
Griff set his glass down, his grin lighting with a trace of mischief. Even if he’d never admit it, his brother loved a little drama in his life. “The lock on Louisa’s window doesn’t latch, and we intentionally selected a bedchamber with easy access to that towering elm, you know, the one you climbed on a drunken tear the day you left Oxford. If she doesn’t want your gifts, well, I suspect she wantsyou. Go to her,a surprise attack, daring enough to astound. After you apologize and vow undying love, kiss the breath from her. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, Dom. What you’re feeling, she’s feeling. Being around the two of you is like waiting for lightning to strike.”
For the first time in days, the tightness in Dom’s chest eased.
What he was feeling,shewas feeling.
If flowers and science had failed him, perhaps a midnight climb and a kiss would not.
Chapter Twelve
Where stubborn hearts surrender.
Two days ofrighteous indignation, and the only thing Louisa had gained was proof: she missed her dogged husband like the devil.
She missed the way Dominic dragged a hand through his silver-streaked hair when he was thinking, and the boyish grin he tried to smother whenever she bested him in an argument. She missed how his gaze softened when Rocket claimed the hearth rug as his own and how he worried a glass between his palms as though it might give answers if he only held on long enough. Even his exasperating habits—the restless drumming of his fingers on the arm of a chair, the low hum in his throat when he paced, the way he sprawled across the mattress, half-dressed when they were late for an event, laughing at something she’d said—had become her comforts.
Alas, the visions of him in their bed made her cheeks burn, her body heat in a way only he could soothe. She’d become quite addicted to his touch.
This longing didn’t make his obstinacy any less infuriating.
But it didn’t make her love him less, either.
Restless, she’d escaped to the lawn, where a selection of pyrotechnicslay scattered across the grass in a neat row. A small experiment, nothing dangerous, just enough to keep her hands busy while her thoughts tangled. She’d waited until after midnight, when the servants were abed and the streets of Mayfair were slightly less congested. If anyone complained about her scientific endeavors, she was going home soon. She’d decided to accept the next apology her wayward husband extended. And, she’d made a promise to herself to take those breathing pauses herself now and again, when needed. As her sister-in-law had wisely told her: they panicked, they blurted, they made a muddle of words when fear scraped them raw.
Loving husbands were to be managed, after all.
That was when she heard it, the low scrape of bark, the rustle of leaves. She turned, frowning, and caught sight of a tall figure scaling the elm outside her bedchamber window.
Louisa strolled silently to the base of the tree, spotting Dominic’s polished boot clearly visible amongst the branches. “What on earth are you doing?” she whispered, hands on her hips, her gown’s hem brushing the dew-laden grass.
Moonlight washed over his features as he turned, a grin breaking across his face. His eyes were glowing—dark, mysterious, beautiful. For all his claims of prudence, the scoundrel delighted in mischief now and again. With a fluid motion, he dropped and landed neatly before her, straightening as though it had cost him no effort at all. He brushed a twig from his sleeve, every inch the gentleman, save for the fact he’d just come down a tree.
Before she could remark on it, he reached for her, lowering his head in a kiss that allowed no protest, no words at all. “I’ve missed you, Lou,” he breathed against her lips, then seized her mouth again, urgent, unrelenting, as though the two lost days had been years.
Turning them, her back met the rough bark of the elm as he pressed her into it, his body crowding close. She clutched at his shoulders, meaning to draw him nearer, but he broke away, chestheaving, his brow settling against hers.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, the words caught somewhere between a plea and a confession. “I love everything about you, and I would never ask you to change.” He drew back just enough to meet her gaze, waiting until her eyes opened, so she could see his own laid bare—brimming with more emotion than he’d ever allowed her to witness. “I love you, my darling wife, with all my damaged heart has to give.”
Her breath fractured, her body trembling, but she held his gaze, daring herself to believe him.
“You know it’s true. The boy in the bookstore would never lie to you.”
Louisa’s hands rose, cradling his cheeks, her thumbs smoothing the rough line of his stubbled jaw. She loved when he hadn’t shaved for hours, and he surely knew it. He’d used every trick in his arsenal to sway her. “And the man you’ve become,” she murmured, voice steady though her heart was racing, “is the only one I’ve ever wanted. I loveyou, Dominic Hawthorne Beckett—every tenacious, maddening piece of you.”
His breath shuddered, relief breaking through him so forcefully that even she could see it.
Had he truly doubted she’d loved him from the first moment?
If he did, she would show him. Curling her hand around his nape, Louisa pulled him to her, the kiss nothing like the desperate one moments earlier. It was reverent, aching, as though she could press the words—I love you—into his lips.
He melted into her, his fingers sliding into her hair, scattering pins and unraveling her wits, holding her as though he’d never let her go again. When his hands tightened at her waist, pressing her back, a reckless shiver coursed through her. He was hard against her thigh; her core was pulsing with desire.
She knew exactly where this was leading.
“We either have to go inside”—she nibbled on his bottom lip,knees shaking as he moaned against her cheek—“or risk scandalizing the neighbors with more than pyrotechnics on your brother’s lawn.”
Dom caught her hand, twining their fingers, and tugged her toward the house with a spirited laugh. “Can you be quiet this time? I’ll never hear the end of it from Griff.”
