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‘Have you?’ He sat beside her, wondering where this was going.
Her dressing gown had a slight gap, revealing a glimpse of bare skin. And it made him realise she was wearing nothing but the stockings beneath it.
He suppressed a curse, and his body tightened with anticipation.
‘Yes. We never established how frequent our conjugal relations should be. Will it be once a month?’
Her words startled him, for she spoke about lovemaking as if it was a task to be completed. Which wasn’t what he’d imagined at all.
Although he hadn’t brought her to fulfilment that first time, it had primarily been because he’d been so caught up, he’d lost control. He should have continued touching her, to evoke her own release.
But the truth was, it had unnerved him that she had thawed the ice around his loneliness, inviting him into her warmth. In that moment, he’d understood how easy it would be to develop feelings for Charlotte.
He’d tried to create distance between them by travelling to Wintermere and London, but it had been futile, since he hadn’t stopped thinking of his wife.
And he worried about what that meant.
In the end, after remaining apart from her for several weeks, he’d concluded that there was no reason why they couldn’t enjoy conjugal relations, as long as he was careful about conception and as long as love was never part of it. They could remain amiable friends, despite the intimacy. Later, they could discuss children.
He was careful when he answered, ‘We can be intimate as often as you wish.’
Charlotte rested her hands upon her knees and let out a slow breath. ‘I know I was not very good at it. But I felt terrible after you left me.’
The honesty in her voice made him reach for her hand. ‘I’m sorry.’
He didn’t know what to say, but the apology was the best he could do. He couldn’t tell Charlotte the truth, that he’d been completely undone by her and the way she’d responded to him. Not this soon.
Alaric didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t the rush of desire she caused, simply by being near him. She met his gaze and said softly, ‘I forgive you.’
He needed to defuse the tension between them, to reassure her that everything would be all right. And so he raised up his foot, exposing one of the socks she’d given him for Christmas. Slowly, he pulled it off and flipped it over to reveal the embroidered daisy. ‘What, precisely, inspired this?’
An unexpected laugh broke free, exactly as he’d hoped. ‘I wanted you to think of me whenever you wore them.’
‘Indeed.’ Alaric removed the other sock and then pulled off his shirt. The moment he did, her mood shifted again, and she grew quiet. Then she lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Which wasn’t at all what he wanted. It occurred to him that, in order for this to be a better experience for her, their conversation needed to be completely frank.
‘I have another rule to add to our list,’ he said.
‘And what is that?’
‘I want you to tell me what you like when we are in bed together. And what you don’t.’
Colour stained her cheeks, but she nodded. ‘I suppose that makes sense.’ She turned to her side and eyed him. ‘But only if you do the same.’
He gave a nod as he finished untying her dressing gown and opened it, revealing her generous breasts. The sight of her naked body only deepened his arousal.
‘It’s cold in here,’ she admitted, blushing as her nipples tightened in the air.
‘Then let me warm you.’ He pressed her back, covering her body with his own.
She reached up her hand to his face. ‘Will you kiss me, Alaric?’
He knew what she was asking, but he didn’t want to kiss her mouth. It was too intimate, too dangerous. He sensed that if he started kissing his wife’s lips, he might never want to stop.
So instead, he slid down and took one nipple in his mouth. She let out a gasp and then said, ‘That…wasn’t where I meant.’ But her hands slid into his hair.
He knew it and slid his tongue against her breast. ‘Do you want me to stop?’
