Sated, warm, and oh, so, comfortable, a most pleasant lethargy pervaded her, which she likened to what a cat might feel, napping on a sunny pile of hay on a summer day. And based upon Sterling’s slow and steady breaths, she guessed he felt the same.
She did not know how much time passed before her husband gave a low moan and rolled onto his back, arms enfolding her to drag her on top of him. A lazy smile of masculine satisfaction curved his mouth as he gazed at her and buried his fingers in her no doubt tangled tresses.
She stretched, curled into him, and gave herself over to the previously unknown pleasure of his fingers sifting through her hair. From nowhere came the memory of his revelations fromearlier. His impressions of her the day they’d met. She’d known there’d been a spark.
But she mustn’t forget he’d resisted the draw because he didn’t like women “like her.”
“I can smell the wood burning from here,” Sterling murmured. The low rumble of his voice vibrated through his chest, tickling her cheek. “What has you thinking so hard, wife?”
Wife.Delight bubbled up inside her at his casually possessive use of the term.
She tilted her head back to meet his dark gaze. She did not want to remind him of his dislike for women “like her.” Not now. Not yet.
“Did you really notice my perfume, all those months ago?”
He snorted. “Please. It’s no perfume. No sachet. It’syou. Some magic elixir that exudes from your pores and renders me putty in your hands.”
She laughed, utterly charmed despite his nonsense. “Now I know you’re teasing me.”
He shook his head. The look in his eyes melted her very bones. She never would have believed she’d glimpse such tenderness from him and directed toward her. If one of them had power over the other, it was he. No one had ever made her feel so…so…wanted.
Abruptly, he emitted a low growl and pinched his eyes shut. “I can’t think straight with you looking at me like that.”
“Oh.” She ducked her head, butting her forehead into his chest so that when he did open his eyes, he wouldn’t see the befuddled smile she could not staunch.
“I’m not lying, you know,” he murmured. “Your scent…intoxicates me.”
She peeked up at him through her lashes. “You’re serious?”
“Completely.”
“I do gather herbs and carry them on my person.”
He shook his head. “There is a distinct bouquet about you. Fresh and sweet, like the air in the kitchens that smells of cream and sugar when Cook bakes. It’s subtle. It’s mouthwatering.” The last he uttered in a tone that made her skin tingle.
“Gaston said I smelled like…” She broke off, trying to recall. The problem was, he’d first claimed she had a generally offensive odor. Then later, when she carried the herb-infused pouches, he said she brought to mind a chemist’s shop. And he wasn’t saying it to be mean. He didn’t know she could hear him half the time.
Sterling’s fingers, twined in her locks, stilled. “Like what?”
“He…er…also noted my unique scent.” She sniffed, not really wanting to share the truth, lest she convince him Gaston had the right of it. “He complained of it—when he thought I could not hear him.”
“Did he?” Sterling asked, expression hardening. “It’s much more likely the only foul thing he smelled was something he’d stepped in.”
His kindness could almost not be borne. She was ridiculously on the verge of tears. Why was he being so nice to her, anyway? Surely this was an anomaly. It wouldn’t do to get accustomed to such treatment.
Better still to nip any false hope in the bud.
“I wondered about something else,” she blurted.
“And what is that, madam wife?”
“You said, when we met, you judged and classified me as the sort you’d learned long ago to avoid. What is it about my sort that you so despise? Is it the conceited part, the flirtatious part, the socially ambitious part, or something else I’ve missed?”
He slanted her a disgruntled look. “You are not like that,” he said, very definitively.
She lifted her chin. “I amexactlylike that.”
The cad smiled. Hesmiled.Then he traced his fingertips over her cheek. “You are notonlylike that. You’re a mad combinationof any number of traits—some of which, I’ll admit, mark you as a creature of the upper class. But not all. As it turns out, I like your other parts best—the ones you try to hide.”
