Part 64 (1/2)

”Yes, my love.” With a lingering kiss upon her thigh, he slowly moved over her, his eyes smouldering with a hunger that echoed within her. ”Forgive me.”

She frowned. ”For what?”

In response, he settled more firmly between her spread legs and tilted his hips forwards. Amelia gasped as she felt him sliding into her body, stretching her with his steady thrust.

”Oh,” she breathed, her hands grasping the cover beneath her.

”You must relax, Amelia.” Justin kissed the tip of her nose. ”Trust me.”

For a tense moment, their gazes clashed, Amelia's heart missing a painful beat. Trust. Such a simple word. And yet such a very complicated emotion.

Then, lifting her hands, she framed his face and pulled him down to meet her soft kiss.

She was not yet prepared to make promises, but her heart was no longer filled with bitterness.

”Make me your wife,” she whispered against his lips.

”My wife,” he repeated, the words filled with a husky reverence that brought tears to her eyes. ”My beautiful wife.”

He kissed her with a stark pa.s.sion, his hands moving to cup her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his thumbs teasing her sensitive nipples.

Slowly, Amelia began to relax, a soft moan tumbling from her lips. Justin's thrusts fanned the flames of her desire from the embers.

Barely aware of it, she discovered her hips lifting in harmony with his rhythm as the pleasure coiled in the pit of her stomach.

Murmuring encouragement, she ran her hands restlessly up and down the curve of his back. Yes. Oh, yes. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips as he plunged deeper and deeper. This was what her body had ached for since that night in the conservatory.

”Christ . . . Amelia . . . I cannot . . .”

She dug her fingers into his hips, urging him to a quicker pace. ”Please do not halt,” she pleaded.

His hands slipped beneath her hips, angling upwards, as he pushed ever deeper within. Amelia arched her back as her muscles clenched with a breathless antic.i.p.ation. Then, her keening cry echoed through the room as she shattered in shocking delight.

”Justin,” she whispered, holding him tight as he shouted her name and poured into her welcoming body.

Four.

Struggling to catch his breath, Justin rolled to the side, pulling his wife into his arms and pressing his lips to the top of her tousled hair.

His wife.

A surge of male satisfaction settled in his heart as he recalled the manner with which she had responded to his touch, and her startled cry as she had reached fulfilment.

Now she was well and truly his wife.

As she was meant to be.

Not that he was foolish enough to believe their troubles were at an end. After all, he had never questioned Amelia's desire for him. She had been far too innocent to hide her ready awareness when he was near. And while making love to her had been an earth-shattering experience, it did not mean that she was prepared to accept him into her life.

As if to prove his point, Amelia abruptly stirred in his arms, pressing her hands against his chest as she attempted to wriggle from his grasp.

”Dear G.o.d . . .” she muttered.

His arms tightened around her, a scowl marring his brow as he met her panicked gaze. b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, did she regret having given her innocence to him?

No. What they had just shared was . . . extraordinary. Magical. He would not allow her to dismiss their lovemaking.

Or him.

”Where do you think you are going?” he demanded.

”I have guests awaiting me.”

”They can keep themselves entertained. We have not finished our conversation.”

She turned her head away, her tone petulant. ”I thought you came to London to get me with child, not to converse.”

”Amelia, you know why I am here.” He cupped her face in his hand and gently forced her to meet his searching gaze. ”I want us to live as man and wife. Together for now and all eternity.”

”Eternity?” She licked her lips, her expression heartbreakingly fragile. ”So very long?”

”Do you want me to beg, my love?” he asked softly.

Her beautiful eyes softened in a desolate yearning that pierced Justin with an unbearable pain. Then, with another burst of panic, she battled her way out of his arms and off the bed.

”Please, can we discuss this tomorrow?” she asked in a ragged voice, her hands trembling as she tugged on the linen s.h.i.+ft he had so recently removed from her exquisite body. ”I must return downstairs and . . .”

”No, Amelia.” Indifferent to his lack of clothing, Justin surged off the mattress and grasped her shoulders in a tight grip. ”I allowed you to flee from me once before. I cannot bear to watch you walk away again.”

”Justin . . .”

”I know that I hurt you and perhaps I do not deserve your forgiveness,” he said, interrupting her protest, his heart clenching at the beauty of her fiery curls tumbled about her pale face and her eyes s.h.i.+mmering like the finest emeralds. Christ, he had missed her. ”But if you will give me the opportunity, I swear I will prove to you that I am worthy of your heart.”

She suddenly stilled, regarding him with an undisguised wariness. ”Why?”

”What do you mean, why?”

”You have my dowry and we are both aware you have only to kiss me to have a place in my bed.” Her tone was flat, the very lack of emotion revealing just how important his answer was to her. ”Why must you have my heart as well?”

His lips twisted. ”I should think that obvious.”

”Humour me.”

Justin steeled his courage. This was the moment.

It had taken him months to accept the truth. Oh, he had known from the moment that he had been introduced to Amelia that she was special. She did not brazenly toss herself at his feet nor had she bored him with mindless chatter and shrill giggles. In fact, he had been enchanted by her clever comprehension of the bills being debated before the House of Lords and the inherent dangers of Spain's political instability.