My knees shake. I sink to the floor, sobbing.
A blade unsheathes. A cylinder drops and rolls to my knees. “Katia, what’s the matter?”
Through tears, I see my love. Jahleel stands up. “Sorry, I … I was asleep.” He drops the blade that would’ve run through Prahmn or Palmers. The hand that can be dismissive stretches tome. “Take hold of me, Katherine Charles. Feel me. Know I’m alive. This is no dream. We won.”
I make my legs go forward. Then I run, my slippers flying over the furry rya, and leap at him, knocking him flat. “You’re fine. You’re fine!”
“And you’re in my arms, Katia, like you’re always meant to be.”
I touch his face.
His thumb traces mine. “Trust us?”
My heart beats louder than his. Jahleel holds me tighter, then kisses me. “No one’s going anywhere until you know how much I love you.”
“But I do know. I tried hard to convince you otherwise, but I’m glad you’re stubborn. Thank you, Jasha, for always knowing that we’re supposed to be together.”
His embrace feels stronger, but his touches are tender. “This is what I get for napping while I patiently await the hero’s reward Mamen’ka ordered.”
No more wasting time. My lips taste his. I might be shaking and tentative, but his love is patient. It’s kind. He scoops my face into his large palms and devours every kiss until neither of us has breath.
A moan dislodges from his throat. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“And you don’t need to be fully dressed, Jasha. You don’t need to be dressed at all.”
“My tigress, be a good mistress-wife and help me disrobe.”
“I want you.” Those words tumble out first. The next should beI’ll love you forever, but the strategist knows. As fast as possible, I’m undoing buttons, ripping away his sash.
“Perfect pace, Your Grace, my Duchess of Torrance.” The growl in his tone makes my pulse race.
My fingers sink into the frogging; the braided silver feels stiff, but I get his shoulder free and help him take off the heavy jacket and fling it to the floor. There’s not a care in his eyes but to be with me.
Not sure if we’re falling back or hurtling forward, Jahleel hasme off-balance. His kiss is hungry, yet strategic. I don’t notice how he’s already made my robe fall away until he tows me to the center of the bed. “What other name shall I call you? I must erase every negative word uttered tonight with blessings.”
“Calling me your wife is enough.”
“Never enough, never enough, my loving wife.”
My lips tingle. Everything does as my nightgown vanishes. “You make me dizzy.” I was a fool to resist him.
He kneels and puts my slippers to his thighs and makes a great show of undoing the bows, stripping away each until my toes are bare. He holds them against his chest, like they are a key, unlocking his passions.
Then he kisses the soles of my feet and unleashes mine.
Together we remove his undervest, but he lets me do the rest while his hands trail my hips and tickle my toes.
His smile is broad. “My wife.”
Dizzy with desperately growing passion, I sit up and cling to his shoulders, my fingers weaving into his curls. “You believed in us all this time.”
“Our marriage was valid. I’ve taken no mistresses other than you. The energy I expended dreaming of this reunion sustained me. And if you ever talk with Scarlett about the conditions she finds in courtesans and prostitutes at Bridewell, that will scare away any recklessness.”
He bites his lip. “But I’ve tried to find a wife, someone to make the loneliness and good days tolerable. If I’d found someone, I might’ve gone to the Neva and released you, but then a letter would arrive from Tavis writing about you, or he’d sell me a painting you did. One look at your watercolors taught me to hope. If you truly decided against us, you’d not paint our St. Peters burg. The place where we were happy.”
“Jasha, it is a testament to you, that you never ever abandoned our love.”
“You’re hard to forget. Too beautiful and willful to not want tohave another moment in your arms. But I must be completely honest.”
