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She watched as he sat at the end of the bed and bent to remove his boots—the same that he’d worn when he’d departed from Nantes, now worn, abused and barely useful. At least he’d gotten a few new clothes.
“This isn’t a duty, Shelene,” he said without looking at her. “I want it to be a joy for you.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m not the woman of our wedding night, simple and untried. But my mother and Martina have assured me it is my duty, so you will have to do your best to prove otherwise.”
“My best, eh?” He removed and folded his jacket, then worked at the buttons on this shirt and sleeves.
“Well, in your weakened state, you might be unable to do anything but hold yourself up.”
“Wife, you underestimate me.” He stared at her then, maybe a little surprised that she wasn’t buried in her bed covers and cowering in maidenly fear.
He stood, shedding his trousers as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Naked, he strolled toward the bureau with the pitcher and basin. He washed his face and used the damp towel along his body, but he kept her from seeing his manhood. Shelene’s gaze followed his movements, though.
He was still strong, with well-defined muscles in his arms and legs and stomach, but so much thinner. He’d been resolutely silent about what had happened while in Argentina. So had Papa, but one good look at Oliver, and Shelene knew how difficult it must have been.
But Roman remained strong in ways Shelene would never understand. Not truly. In time, maybe he would feel comfortable discussing more of the finer points of his interesting and secret life.
Shelene gasped. “What happened?” She threw the covers back and hurried to him, seeing the horrible, but healed, gash at his side. She ran her fingers along the scar, and Roman flinched.
“It happened months ago. Before I went to Argentina. You are not to worry. It no longer hurts.”
“When? Why?”
“One of your uncle’s men saw me when we were in Nantes. I was meeting one of my contacts…that morning I went missing for a few days. He tried to kill me.”
“Oh, dear God! Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t Joaquin?”
“For a lot of reasons, but mostly to protect you. That attack was one of the reasons I insisted you return to Spain.” He turned then, and she felt his desire, strong and hard against her. He slipped his arms about her waist and lifted her to her toes. She wrapped her arms about his neck.
His hungry kiss warmed her. She opened her mouth to him, reliving the thrills of intimacy that coursed through her body those nights long ago.
Roman swept her up and carried her to the bed. She floated into the mattress, and he positioned himself over her. Her rail fell across the top of her thighs. He slipped his hand beneath it and soothed upward, baring her body, finding her breast and kneading slowly.
“I’ll try to please you, Shelene. Forgive me if I cannot.”
She would be pleased no matter the outcome. How many opportunities had Roman had over the years to fall in love with another woman? To never return?
He braced on one arm, his other lifting away the material between them. He caressed her skin lightly, but with fire in his touch. She arched against him, feeling his manhood against her thigh. She brushed her hand over his face, tracing his dark brows and strong cheekbones.
She cupped the back of his head and pulled his face to hers, placing a kiss upon his lips. “That’s for bringing my father home.” She kissed him again. “And that’s for my son.” Her fingers stroked his hair and she gazed into his eyes. She pressed several more sweet kisses along his lips, but said nothing more.
“What were those for?”
“All the children we shall have in the future.”
He reached between them. When she felt the gentle play as he rubbed his manhood along the wet folds between her legs, she melted a little. “Yes,” she said.
His searching was with sureness, and he pressed into her with a slow push, filling her. His jaw clenched. His body held in tight control.
“I am yours and you are mine,” she said. She gripped his shoulders and surged against him, lifting and lowering.
“And you are my heart. You always will be.”
He met her, thrusting and withdrawing. He pressed kisses to her face and cheeks, titillated her with his tongue beneath her ear and caused a dizzying inability to think when he sucked her nipple.
Oh, who wanted to think anyway!
She wrapped one leg around his waist. His hand slid down her thigh and clasped her bottom. He said nothing about the additional roundness she’d acquired since Tono’s birth, but he did moan as he kneaded his hand into her flesh.
