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She looked up at him, her eyes washed to a pale moss in the morning sun. “I’m afraid I did too.”
He barked with amusement when her body released a ferocious growl of its own. Setting her aside, he brushed back her locks and kissed that pert, little nose.
“As the great provider, I must find us sustenance.” He traced a path down her neck, lingering at her breast, her soft flesh tantalizing.Lord, but she was beautiful. Although he wanted to replace his fingers with his lips, he instead reached for the coverlet and tucked it around her. He shifted across the bed and hopped off. “I shall not return until I am able to nourish you fully.”
She wickedly perused his naked form. “Oh, I believe you are capable of that without leaving this room.”
He leaned across the bed, kissing her quickly, tempted to surrender. “You naughty, little minx.” He nipped her nose, then pulled back, stood rigidly straight, and saluted. She rolled onto her side with merriment. Chuckling, he headed for the door to the sitting room. He felt young. He was in love, and the world was once again filled with possibility. He laughed at his own whimsy.
He startled Langdon with his abrupt entrance. Langdon jumped to his feet, the optimistic rise of his eyebrows a reflection of Nicholas’s much-buoyed spirits.
“I am ravenous, Langdon.” He moved to the bed, where his robe lay, and slipped it on. “As is my lady.” He felt like a fool, but he could not suppress a grin. His lady. Finallyhislady in every way.
“Sinclair!” Langdon’s smile mirrored his own. “I mean sir…er…my lord.” Red splotches marred his face. “I am right pleased to hear it, my lord.” His face blotched further and his brow furrowed as his lips pursed in concentration. “That you are hungry, sir…my lord…and your lady.” Then his face split with another grin, the man’s eyes twinkling with delight. “Ah, hell, Sinclair, right pleased I am.”
“As am I, my friend. As am I.” Nicholas clasped Langdon’s shoulder and squeezed, their camaraderie too established to change with the shifting tide of Nicholas’s position. They’d been through too much together to allow his newfound rank to erase their connection. He’d offered to keep Langdon as his man not out of sympathy but because he valued and respected him. Langdon’s core was true and honest. Nicholas had learned much on the continent, but perhaps the most valuable lesson of all was illuminated by his relationship with Langdon. One could not woo, cajole, or buy loyalty. It must be earned honestly, and when it was given, there was nothing to equal it. He knew Langdon felt likewise.
“Now, how about some food?” Nicholas said. “Oh, and Catherine loves chocolate. Get Nan to warm some for her. The rest I leave to Nan’s talented hands. Tell her she was right and all is well.”
Langdon beamed and quickly departed. The bed was tightly made, everything in neat order. Hollow walls, empty of feeling. That was about to change. Nicholas would convince Catherine to forgo separate chambers and share this room with him. She could decorate it as she pleased. That would erase his father from it. Although, all he cared about was falling asleep with her in his arms and seeing her bonny face each morning when he awoke.
He strolled into the dressing room, staring at the now empty tub. He’d had more baths since returning home than he’d had in a year on the continent, yet he was tempted to call for another one. But visions of Catherine draped across the bed, that saucy gaze of hers, that enticing smile, called to him stronger than a warm bath. A pitcher of water lay on the stand. He poured some into the basin, took the cloth, and dipped it in the cool water. Dropping his robe, he quickly washed, wiping away the residue of sex, lingering at the task, mourning the eradication of Catherine from his body. He would just have to ensure she washed it once again with hers.
Quickly donning his banyan, he strolled between the rooms, not pausing to knock at hers, far too anxious to see her once again. She was exiting her dressing room, drawing closed a beautiful green silk dressing gown. His heart soared when her face lit with a smile. He closed the door behind him.
“Nicholas.”
His name. Simple. Plain. It was not a question, but he heard insecurity. He would eradicate that.
He held out his arms. She ran to him, and he enveloped her in his warmth and love, kissing her head. He inhaled deeply. God, she smelled good. Arousal chased her scent. She opened the lapels of his robe, running her hand across his chest.
“Catherine,” he warned, but her hands caressed a path downward, her fingers circling the fastenings. She tugged free the small loops, pushing the robe from his shoulders.
“Hellcat,” he growled, losing all restraint, delighted she was unrepentant and persistent.
He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his thighs. Her robe joined his on the floor. She was already damp with need, and he was desperate to bury himself deep within her once again. He pressed her back against the sitting room door and pushed, her warm depths inviting. He nestled close, then stilled, holding on to the moment.His.As he was hers.
He wanted to wipe away all her uncertainty. Doubt he’d created. “Catherine,” he started but choked on welling emotion. He withdrew slowly, then pushed back quickly, trying to refocus, to shake shattering sentiment. “It’s just you.”
She looked so beautiful…and so vulnerable.
“And me.” He pulled back gradually, holding her gaze, willing her to trust him. “Us.” He thrust to the hilt, shivering at the depth of connection.
Her eyes shimmered.
“Us,” he repeated, then told her with his body that he meant every word. He did not cease until they were replete, her back pressed to the door, both of them damp and sweating.
When his body calmed, he relaxed, easing her downward until her feet hit the floor. He pulled back, drinking in her face. Her cheeks were flushed champagne pink, and her pupils were dilated, creating a dark forest where glistening moss had stood but moments before.
“Do you believe it?” he asked.
She hesitated, pulling in her bottom lip, her teeth grazing it erotically. Then she reached up and ran her hand down his cheek.
“I believe.” She stood on tippy-toe and kissed his nose. “I believe in us.”
The tight band around his chest released, and he exhaled. He hadn’t realized he’d held his breath. She believed in them too. In the sober light of full day, their love held strong.
He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Me too.”
