“Oh, Camilla, forgive me.” His voice broke as he held her tight. He buried his face in her hair, his eyes filling with tears that slid down his cheeks. “I love you so much. I’m so grateful you aren’t Kat. I want you and none other.”
“You shall always have me,” she muttered into his shirt.
Her warm breath brushed his skin, stirring awareness inside him once again. “Will you forgive me?”
He kissed the side of her face, and she turned and met his mouth with her lips. Holding her head, he devoured her mouth, hoping his love would show with every touch. She clutched his shirt, pressing against him. He ravished her mouth, then trailed his lips over her tear-streaked face and down her neck.
He pulled away and gazed deep into her eyes. “Are you truly my wife? Are we indeed married?”
She nodded. “My name is on the marriage certificate. And as I said, the priest confirmed my belief that proxy marriages are legal.”
“Please, Camilla, let me love you the only way a husband can. Now.”
She held him closer. Love burst in his chest, and hope for a new beginning was finally within grasp.
“Yes, my darling husband. Make me your wife.”
Tenderly, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed, not caring about the twinge of pain in his leg any longer. Taking great care, he placed her on the mattress. Tears still glistened in her eyes, but it was the love shining on her face that made his heart swell with happiness.
Before joining her on the bed, he shrugged out of his shirt and cravat. Her gaze moved slowly over his chest. Never had a woman looked at him with such longing anticipation dancing in her eyes.
He crawled next to her and cupped her face. “I love you, Camilla. I don’t ever want to stop telling you that.”
“I don’t ever want you to stop saying it.”
He pressed his mouth against hers for a kiss, situating them on the bed a little more comfortably. He moved one arm behind her back and wrapped the other around her waist, bringing her up against his body.
The kiss was slow and meaningful. She participated fully, running her hand over his chest before moving it up his neck. Her touch sent heat surging throughout his body. This was not surprising, since he had always enjoyed the way she touched him so adoringly.
Breaking the kiss, he moved his mouth to her earlobe, suckling it gently. He shifted his hand to the top button on her shirt. Strange, but he’d never had to undress a woman wearing men’s clothes before. Yet he wasn’t repulsed. Instead, excitement grew inside of him—these clothes would come off a lot quicker.
He flicked open the first button, and then the second. As he trailed kisses down her neck, she tilted her head back to give himbetter access. Once the third button came apart, he had more room to slip his hand inside.
A low crooning came from her throat. He lifted his head to see the effect it had on her. Her eyes flickered open, greener than he had ever seen them before. Her skin was so soft, so silky—he couldn’t stop from wanting to feelallof her.
She’d once mentioned being married, but her husband had died. Although this wasn’t the time to ask about him, Malcolm wondered if she had loved that man. Yet if she had, she wouldn’t have loved Malcolm so quickly.
Without knowing anything about this other man, Malcolm vowed to make his wife blissfully—and passionately—happy tonight… and every night for the rest of their lives.
Chapter Seventeen
Brandon Kennedy stalkedacross the office floor, his hands bunched into fists at his side. He kicked his chair from under the desk, and it toppled and landed on the floor. Yanking off his overcoat, he cursed. He tossed it toward the coat rack but missed the mark, and it slid to the ground. He exploded with another set of curses as he marched over, picked it up, and hung it on a hook.
Malcolm leaned back in his chair, holding back the grin that threatened to sneak across his mouth. He was dying to know what had his partner in a dither. When the grin threatened to make its debut, Malcolm quickly rubbed his hand over his mouth, trying to wipe off his smirk. Now was not the time to gloat.
“What ails you, Kennedy?”
The man spun around, his eyes dark with fury. “You recall my telling you about Lord Arlington yesterday, and how his estate would bring us a lot of money?”
Malcolm’s heart stilled. “Yes.”
“It appears that someone else has beaten me to it.” Kennedy slammed his fist on the wall.
“Are you certain?” Malcolm tried to lift his voice in irritation, playing the part of someone who was upset over this news.
“Most certain.” Kennedy moved behind his desk and dropped into his chair. “I had heard the man was in town, so thismorning I looked for him. When I finally was able to speak with him, he told me he decided to go with someone else.”
“No,” Malcolm said, rising to his feet. “He didn’t even give you a chance to tell him about our business?”
