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‘Oh, Max. I was so hurt that you hadn’t told me about Veritas. I felt…I thought I’d have to leave…I love you too much to have been able to go on as things were. But in reality I misjudged you just as much as you did me.’
‘We are equally at fault,’ Max comforted her, and he drew her back into his arms. ‘We both judged one another because of what our experience with others has taught us.’
‘You were right to listen to your instinct and to question my reasons,’ Ionanthe admitted. ‘I did after all have an ulterior motive for marrying you. I can’t deny that.’
‘An altruistic motive,’ Max corrected her tenderly.
‘That is something we share—our desire to help the people of Fortenegro,’ Ionanthe murmured.
‘And is it the only desire we share?’ Max teased, asking softly, ‘You hesitate—but haven’t we come far enough to be as honest with one another in words as our hearts and our bodies have already been? Would it help if I were to go first and proclaim my love and my desire for you?’
He was caressing her body as he spoke, stroking his hands over her back, making her want to melt into him.
‘I am not a desirable woman—not like Eloise.’ That pain still remained, and with it some insecurity. ‘You were married to her and—’
‘In name, but never in deed,’ Max told her truthfully.
Ionanthe pushed back to look up at him. ‘You mean you never—?’
‘Never. I couldn’t,’ Max told her simply. ‘A fact about which she taunted me on more than one occasion—although oddly her taunts never had the same effect on me that yours did.’
Ionanthe went slightly pink. ‘That was because I wanted to conceive your son.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Max’s voice was mock-stern. ‘You wanted to raise a ruler who would be all the things you believed his father was not—whilst I very much want to raise daughters who are everything their mother already is. Which of us will be first to get their wish, do you suppose?’
When had they moved towards the bed Ionanthe didn’t know. She was just glad that they were there, and that Max was reaching out to her with familiar much loved hands to slowly remove her clothes whilst she did the same to him, accompanied by slow, sweet kisses.
‘I can think of nothing I want more than for any son I might bear to grow up to match the goodness of his father,’ Ionanthe breathed against Max’s skin.
‘Nothing?’ he teased. ‘Can’t I tempt you to want anything a little more immediate and personal?’
Ionanthe’s smile was warm.
‘Mmm…’ She joined in the game. ‘Do you know, I have the strangest longing for a fig?’ Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the look Max was giving her. ‘But,’ she told him, holding his gaze, ‘what I long for far more is you, my dearest love.’
There was no need for any further words. They were locked in one another’s arms and the kiss they were exchanging said everything they needed to know.
