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She slowly unwrapped another package. Chocolate. Unable to help the need she broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth and chewed. It broke apart in her mouth, the sweet, yet slightly bitter flavor rich and decadent.
Thrill rose sharply in her bosom, and her anticipation welled.
She unwrapped another paper and withdrew another small ball coated in frothy white. Her eyes fluttered close in pleasure at the first taste. It crunched under her teeth and a delightful sweet burst on her tongue.
“That is spiced almond nut, coated in caramel and dipped in sugar from Vienna.”
He lowered himself to his knees, so they were at the same height, leaned in and licked the corner of her mouth. Her heart began to clamor, sending a dizzying rush of desire coursing through her veins.
Gabriel gave her a lazy, roguish smile. “A dusting of sugar,” he murmured.
He kissed the bridge of her nose. “I’d not forgotten you, every day it was thoughts of you that got me through the
difficult times.”
She turned his hand, clasping it palm up, within hers.
“Try another,” he murmured.
She took up another small round ball, dusted with sugar. She bit into it; cream filled her mouth, and she purred her delight. “What is it?” she asked, uncaring that her mouth was still full.
“Truffles, from France.”
She glanced down at the box and the several different types of delicacies remaining. Primrose licked the sugar from her lips. “Where else do they come from?”
“Nougat from Brussels, Turkish delights and toffee from the shop in the village.”
“I want to eat them all, now,” she murmured.
He laughed, and the sound rolled through her in heated waves. Gabriel cupped her cheeks gently between his hands. They felt different, more callused, more commanding. Wings took flight in her belly, and she swallowed.
“Tomorrow after dinner, and when we are in the drawing room exchanging gifts, I will announce our engagement to my family.”
She gasped audibly, so many emotions tearing through her at that pronouncement. Joy and trepidation in equal measure. Primrose knew the countess would not take kindly to such news, not when she had her heart set on her son marrying Lady Beatrice. Primrose hated the anxiety trembling through her heart. “The countess will object.”
Remarkably he smiled. “I love my mother, but I do not need her approval. All I need is you. As a retired captain, I’m on half pay, and I daresay we will live in comfort if not style.”
And all I need is you. The words trembled on her lips, but they did not spill. She slid her bottom closer to the edge of the bed so she could hug him to her. There was still a separation between their bodies, and he touched the top of her knee and with firm pressure opened her legs until her thighs widened enough to cradle him between them. The intimacy of it had heat flushing through her entire body. Surely, he could feel the heat of it through his clothes.
They hugged for several minutes with his face buried in the crook of her neck, and her cheek resting against the side of his jaw. He pressed a soft kiss to the exposed arch of her throat. Her pulse tripped, a million butterflies took flight in her belly, and her heart raced. They stayed like that for a breathless moment.
“I missed your smell, the taste of your skin,” he murmured roughly, inhaling deeply as if wanting to trap her scent into his lungs.
“I missed you too,” she whispered achingly.
“Did you read the book?”
This time the question was asked right at her ear. She felt tempted to lie, for the mortifying truth was that she'd devoured every scandalous word and erotic picture. Primrose felt the manner in which her entire body blushed indicated that she had indeed read the very naughty and provocative book which had been delivered to her encased in several layers of wrappings six months ago. She’d almost fainted when she’d opened the package and discovered its content. “Yes,” she said.
This time he placed the kiss on the tip of her ear. “Good.”
Her heart began to beat a little harder. “And why is it good?”
She felt the curve of his lips against her cheek as he smiled.
“I did not want to shock your sensibilities on our wedding night…now you’ll know what to expect.”
She shifted even closer, butting her cheek against his, pressing a kiss of her own against his jaw. There was a sense of anticipation burning through her veins, and nothing would ease her anxiety. Or was it more than that? Her breasts ached to the point where the simplest press against his chest abraded the sensitive tips of her nipples, and between her legs was mortifyingly wet.
