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“And you too, my lord.” She pats my face, and if I’m not mistaken, she’s a little teary.
Oh, this will never do. “Maxim. Please,” I instruct her. “But wait, I have an important duty to perform.” I take Alessia’s hand and lift her into my arms, making her squeal in surprise. The dogs jump up in encouragement and start barking. And rather than go in through the kitchen door, I hold Alessia to my chest and trudge over the gravel toward the front of the house.
“What are you doing?” Alessia laughs as she puts her arms around my neck.
“I’m taking you through the front door, which we rarely use. We should go through the boot room, but everyone uses the kitchen door, as it’s the most welcoming part of the house. However, as the new countess, I think you should go through the front door.”
The dogs are with us when I glance behind me, but Danny has disappeared. I know she’s heading to the front door through the house. I round the corner and follow the path, lined with ancient yews, toward the old front door inset in the spacious stone porch. It’s a quicker journey for Danny, who opens the old oak door. Beside her, Jessie, our cook, and Brody, one of the estate hands, stand ready to welcome us.
I carry Alessia inside and set her down in the hallway in front of my family coat of arms and our staff. “Welcome, Countess Trevethick.” I cup her face, bring her lips to mine, and give her a sweet kiss that stirs my soul.
My wife.
Here. At last.
“Aww.” There’s a collective sound of approval from the team, and I must remember we’re not alone.
“Welcome home, both of you. And congratulations,” Jessie offers.
“Thank you. Danny, Jessie, Brody, may I present Alessia, Countess of Trevethick.”
* * *
Alessia is overwhelmed by the unexpected and warm welcome. The staff—even the dogs—are delighted to see her. Danny and Jessie have left to make a “wee spot of tea,” and Brody has gone to replace some light bulbs somewhere. The dogs, sensing food might be forthcoming, have followed in Danny’s and Jessie’s footsteps.
Maxim and Alessia are alone in the front hall as they gaze at each other. From nearby, a rhythmic tick from an old clock beats a sensual, relentless pulse.
“How is it?” Maxim asks, his eyes searing hers, and he tucks a wayward lock of hair behind her ear.
His gentle touch echoes through her body, waking her up.
“It’s good. Very good,” she whispers, unable to avert her gaze from his striking green eyes that darken as he stares at her.
“It’s not so long that we were here.”
“No. But it was another lifetime.”
“It was,” he whispers and brushes his thumb along her bottom lip, sending a bolt of delicious electricity south through her muscle, sinew, and bone and all the soft tissue in between. It’s arousing.
“I know that look,” he breathes, his words barely audible.
“I know your look.” She can feel it. Their desire. Coursing between them. Electrical. Magical. Their own special alchemy.
“Let’s go to bed,” Maxim whispers, eyes dark with carnal appreciation and bold promises.
How could she resist? Why would she want to?
“I’d like that very much.”
He grins, grabs her hand, and leads her toward the considerable staircase with its two-headed eagle newel posts.
“Race you?” he challenges with a wicked grin and bolts up the stairs taking two at a time. Alessia follows, trying not to laugh at his boyishness.
He waits at the top of the stairs, all tousled hair and licentious smile.
“Eager?” Alessia teases, a little breathless, and he laughs and dips suddenly, grabbing her around her thighs and hauling her over his shoulder so that she squeals and giggles in equal measure.
“You bet!” he exclaims and smacks her backside before striding down the corridor toward his bedroom with Alessia bouncing on his shoulder.
Fortunately, it’s not far. In his bedroom, he sets her on her feet, and they regard each other, drinking each other in—all eyes and smiles and desire.
“I love you,” he breathes and leans forward, catching her lips with his, slowly snaking his arms around her and pulling her against his body. They kiss. And kiss. Tasting and teasing one another. Losing each other in their tongues and lips and teeth. Her hands fist in his burnished chestnut hair while his are at her nape, cradling her head, and skimming her body to her behind, and squeezing hard, so she’s flush against his growing erection.
“You taste so good,” Alessia breathes when they come up for air.
“So do you, baby. So do you. I want you so much. But for a moment, I just want to hold you. Here. Now.” He tightens his arms around her and rests his forehead against hers.
She smiles to herself and for him as she catches her breath, and they stand in each other’s arms, at peace in the eye of their passionate storm.
