My mind had been his for days.
It was time for my body to win.
In the middle of this place of ancient doors, we’d walked inside and returned to our best. I waited for him to disrobe and caress me, waited for him to open my love like a jacaranda bloom. We would be beautiful, better than before.
Because I was hungry, and I knew he’d fill me.
The colors of the sunset shone around us, streaking the sky.
Me and my husband tore away fabric and slid past our fears. With an endless embrace, we rebuilt our marriage bed. I trusted the love we had and wrapped myself in him.
Couldn’t miss this moment, no mind wandering, not when my Roman soldier, my jaguarete had come home.
Maybe this time, neither of us would leave our love again.
CHAPTER54
FELTON—THEROAD TODAMASCUS
Her calf, Moomoo, didn’t smell so bad now that Watson gave it a proper bath each day. Over the past three days, the beast was practically domesticated, lolling, wanting its ear scratched.
Felton could concur with the contentment. Cilia’s affection for him had returned. They shared everything—a room, a bath, and a bed made for crowding, and cold toes to be rested on his shin.
The miracle of Stonehenge brought them together when he’d given up.
His wife sketched, concentrating on her charcoals. They’d be at Warwick within the hour. All could change again.
The duke might’ve already passed. Felton could be Tramel, the title he’d inherit. Cilia would be his duchess.
He tapped Repington’s note that had arrived at the coaching inn last night. His dearest friend reported that Her Grace had custody of her sister’s babe and that this boy had Felton’s eyes.
The duke’s hints weren’t subtle.
A son.
A male child who would be Lord Gantry. How does one bring that up to the wife he’d just reclaimed?
Wife, I know that we’ve repaired our trust, but tell me of the son you’re keeping from me.
No, that wouldn’t go over well.
Cilia would tell him in time. She should know he’d understand. The Widow’s Grace business had taught him how easily children were taken from their mothers, especially foreign-born women.
He’d not dwell on this, not when they shared a bed, an embrace every night.
Still, not a word about their son?
To be fair, being starved of her affection for almost a year, he had no need of talking.
But to be across from him now, with her guard cow, as she drew, the woman could say something.
The fact that the boy was healthy and alive had to be enough. There was still time to love him and watch him grow.
Was he smiling too much? He drummed the seat in triumph. He had a son.
“Whatever have you read, my lord? It has you grinning.”
“Yes, my friend sends me news of winning.”
