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52
Mareleau had never heard a sound more beautiful than Larylis’ heartbeat. It thudded against her ear, echoing the pound of her own. They reclined on the pallet that was nestled at the far end of Mareleau’s tent, their bodies tangled in blankets and furs. Based on the lack of light streaming through the canvas walls, and the darkening shadows that grew around the single lantern lit inside, it must be night now. Mareleau had lost all sense of time during her impassioned reunion with her husband. The memory of their time in the tub—then on the floor, then again on the pallet where they now lay—flooded her with warmth, and a tingling heat built between her thighs. It seemed her desire for him would never be satiated. Her body, on the other hand, was spent.
She shifted her face to prop her chin on his chest and assessed her husband’s countenance. Gods, he was beautiful. His eyes were closed, but she’d drunk in their emerald hue when she’d been astride him earlier, studying his every expression, his every sound, as he’d wrung pleasure from her, and she from him. Their love was both long-standing and new. She was determined to know every angle of him, all the quirks and facets she’d never learned, and any she may have forgotten in their three years apart.
His dark lashes fluttered, and he glanced down at her with a sleepy grin. She lifted a hand and lightly brushed the curve of his bottom lip, then trailed it across the hard edge of his lightly stubbled jaw. His throat bobbed as she brushed the column of his neck, then his collarbone. Her fingers drifted behind his head to where his hair curled slightly, damp with sweat and bathwater. She liked seeing him like this. Undone. Rugged. She liked the way his body tensed as she shifted against him. Lifting herself slightly, she planted a kiss on his lips. His mouth met hers in a tender softness that had been absent between them earlier. With their desires quenched, there was a slowness to their kiss now. A promise.
His hands came to her hips, rounding her curves in a way that had her stomach tightening, her center tingling. Perhaps their desires weren’t so quenched after all.
She was about to deepen the kiss, but Larylis pulled away. “I wish we could do this all day.”
“Look around, Lare,” she said with a chuckle. “We already did.”
A furrow formed between his brows. He pulled himself to sitting and glanced around the tent. When his eyes fell on the solitary light glowing from the lantern, a sideways grin took over his lips. He returned his gaze to her. “I suppose you’re right. But still…”
She sat upright before him and pushed out her bottom lip in a mock pout. It had the effect she’d been after. His eyes dipped to her mouth. Then to her bare torso.
A groan built in the back of his throat. “You make it very hard—”
“I know.” She let her eyes dip to his waist.
“—to talk about anything serious,” he said, his words dissolving in a laugh.
“Must we? There are so many better things we could do tonight.”
His mirth slowly began to drain from his face. “There…there are some things we should talk about.”
She didn’t like where that was going. His words almost made her feel like she was in trouble. More than that, they reminded her that she had something very serious to tell him too. Something she hadn’t dared confess by way of letter. Her hand went impulsively to her belly, soft and curving in the way it always was, yet too small to reveal the secret growing within. She snatched her hand away and batted her lashes. “Like the gift you brought me?”
Maybe she was a coward for changing the subject, but she wasn’t ready to lose the sweetness of their reunion.
“The gift?”
“I saw you carrying a package when you entered. Was it for me?”
His smile returned, but it wasn’t as bright as before. “It was, but it wasn’t from me. It’s from your father.”
“My father?” Verdian was an even drearier topic than the one she was trying to avoid. But…had he really gotten her a gift? If so, why did Larylis have it?
Larylis threw back the blankets and left the pallet, making his way across the tent to gather his discarded clothing one piece at a time. Mareleau took the opportunity to admire his lean build, his bare broad shoulders, and the perfect view of his backside. Her shoulders slumped as he hid the latter beneath his trousers, then the former beneath his shirt.
Not wanting to be the only one naked, she retrieved the chemise and robe Ann had left out before her bath. She pulled the chemise over her head and belted the silk robe at her waist. Larylis reached the package he’d left by his jacket and sword belt and brought it back to the pallet with him.
“I crossed paths with your father on my way here,” he said, holding the package out to her.
Gingerly, she accepted the gift and lowered herself back onto the pallet. The package was a bundle of brown canvas tied with string. Whatever was inside, it was soft and shapeless.
Larylis planted himself beside her, but there was a tenseness in his posture. “We traveled here together, but when we arrived, he left for the hunt with Teryn, Dimetreus, and your uncles. He asked me to give this to you. But…but I don’t know if you want to open it.”
She lifted her eyes from the gift to find a grimace on Larylis’ face. “Why not?”
“He said it was for the baby. For his grandchild.”
Mareleau’s heart stuttered. Heat rushed to her cheeks, renewing her panic over what she needed to tell Larylis. But beside her anxiety was something tender. Something laced with guilt and love.
She dropped her gaze back to the package and slowly worked the knots in the string. One by one, they fell away, followed by the canvas wrapping. As it unfolded, it revealed a bundle of cloth. She lifted the item, finding a small blanket made from the softest red velvet on one side and elegant white and gold brocade on the other. The pattern was of vines and roses—white ones to represent Selay’s sigil—with woodland creatures weaving through the brambles.
Tears stung her eyes.
