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But Loren thought I’d said that to him in the stables all those weeks ago in order to play the game my father had forced me to play.
When, for once, I’d been telling him the truth.
“Satrine?” he called.
I focused on him and repeated, “I’ll find my way.”
He was studying me closely, his arm warm around my waist, his gaze affectionate at the same time troubled, because he no doubt thought I’d had a bad moment, remembering my plight.
I pressed my gloved hands into his chest. “I promise.”
“I believe you, sweeting,” he said gently.
“Though, feel free to continue spoiling me,” I teased, hoping it didn’t sound forced.
“So you admit it.”
I shrugged.
And there came that rich, attractive, chuckle before he did what he was quickly becoming expert in doing: angled his head to avoid my enormous hat so he could touch his lips to mine.
When he lifted away, he didn’t go far.
So I went for it. “And if you ever want to talk about them…”
I let that hang.
I found it concerning he only nodded before he straightened completely from me.
But I let it go.
Because I was going to need him to let things go, a lot of them, practically every real thing about me.
The least I could do was return the favor on occasion.
“Does this mean you’re going to give up on forcing me to teach you how to drive yourself around?” he asked, and I was getting to know him, so I was more than sensing he wasn’t entirely joking.
“It isn’t that hard,” I returned.
“You’re rubbish at it,” he stated bluntly.
I was not wrong. He hadn’t been joking.
And he was not wrong.
Who knew it was harder than heck driving a carriage through busy streets filled with other carriages, carts, horses, and people crossing (the concept of jaywalking clearly had not been introduced in this world, and although, on the busier streets, there were constables directing crossways, there was nary a stop sign to be found), but also errant dogs, cats and sometimes pigs and chickens?
Horses turned left and right and went faster and slower, depending on what you told them to do. And they weren’t real big on running into anything, so they took their own evasive maneuvers.
But a lot of the time, it got hairy.
“I’ll get the hang of it.”
“Perhaps, if you stop gazing around like you’re touring instead of paying attention to where you’re going,” he suggested.
He was not wrong about that either.
“There are a number of distractions,” I pointed out.
“Indeed. This is why women don’t drive. Too easily distracted. They see a hat they like in a window, they’d drive into the window next to it because they can’t stop looking at it. And then they’d argue it’s the hat’s fault.”
“Oh. My. Gods,” I whispered irately. “Did you just say that?”
He smiled down at me, hugely, his warm brown eyes dancing, and his arm still around me tightened as his head dipped.
“You are very easy to tease, my Satrine,” he whispered.
“You are very lucky you’re so gorgeous, my Loren,” I retorted.
And there came an even bigger smile.
“I would like to see a lake like that.”
We both turned toward Maxine’s voice to see she’d come close.
“And mountains,” she went on.
Not missing a beat, Loren replied, “Then we shall make plans to show you as many lakes and mountains as can be found, Maxie.”
Maxine beamed.
Mm-hmm.
Totally.
Loren Copeland spoiled the women in his life.
Outlandishly.
But I wasn’t going to breathe another word about it.
Ever.
Because it was him.
And as were all things Loren, it was beautiful.
* * * *
Loren
He felt her lips as Satrine trailed them up his chest and into his neck before she rested her weight against him.
Loren barely accepted her warmth when he rolled so he was on her.
He was not fully recovered from the ministrations of her mouth, but although he very much liked her soft curves resting on him, he preferred resting his body on those curves.
“How’s your wound?” she whispered into his ear.
He grinned and lifted his head.
“Better,” he told her.
“Mm…” she hummed.
Still grinning, he touched his mouth to hers, and not moving away, he said, “Soon, my darling.”
Her expression shifted and he felt her hand gentle over the bandage at his wound. A bandage she demanded to change morning and prior to bed, so his clothes nor the sheets would aggravate the stitches.
Therefore, he assured, “Very soon, sweeting. There’s hardly any pain anymore.”
That was not precisely the truth. There was pain, which was why he had not taken their bedplay forward to consummation.
But it was getting better, and further, he didn’t want her worrying about it.
He got his wish. Her gaze cleared and focused on his.
“Okay, honey,” she replied.
“Are you sated for tonight?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Are you sure?” he teased. “It usually takes three or more before you seem replete, and tonight I only gave you two.”
