Part 30 (1/2)

More bravely, she moved her tongue until the kiss was no longer invasion but ecstatic dance.

She made an inarticulate sound and edged closer, sliding awkwardly on the seat. He ripped his mouth from hers. He breathed in great gusts, and his eyes were blacker than ebony. He released a startled laugh and pulled her up against him.

”A curricle's not designed for lovemaking,” he said unsteadily.

Charis was still dazed. Joy resonated through her like music. ”I don't care. It was wonderful.”

She sounded like a besotted ninnyhammer. What matter? She was a besotted ninnyhammer.

He loved her.

He touched her cheek with a gesture that split her vulnerable heart open. She'd loved him from the first, but until now she'd had no idea how physical pleasure turned love into something so vivid, it became a living ent.i.ty.

”Shall we go back to the inn?” His voice was velvety with antic.i.p.ation.

She curved into his side. For the first time, his arm circled her shoulders. She basked in the closeness. Her lips tingled with the memory of his kiss. Strangely, that kiss had changed things between them more than either time he'd used her body.

Hope poured into her br.i.m.m.i.n.g heart.

He loved her. She loved him. What could defeat them?

Eighteen.

Across the remains of the meal he'd ordered in their rooms, Gideon watched his wife. The hostelry was famous for its cuisine. For all the attention he'd paid to the elaborate fare, it might have been sawdust.

Instead, his heart, his mind, his soul were full of his bride.

Charis.

Beautiful, beautiful Charis. His delight and his despair.

She'd been quiet on the drive back from the countryside. Nor had she spoken much during dinner. Like him, she'd toyed with her food. Now she looked up. Doubt swam in her hazel eyes like sharks in a clear sea.

She set down her fork with a decided click. Her slender hand clenched against the table. ”What made you change your mind?”

Gideon didn't pretend to misunderstand. She was too clever to let his new att.i.tude go unremarked and too brave to avoid the subject.

After a moment's thought, he gave her a frank answer. ”I'm not sure I have.”

He was guiltily aware that he played dangerous games with their future here. He still believed her best chance for happiness lay in a life separate from his.

But it was more than mortal flesh could stand to share a bed with his delectable wife and not touch her. Especially after the desolate h.e.l.l he'd subsisted in since Rangapindhi. Charis thought because they loved each other, they had a chance. Gideon knew in his bones that love only made the price they'd both pay for their current indulgence more excruciating.

He should stay away from her. But he couldn't.

Of all his many sins, perhaps this was his greatest.

Her lips compressed with impatience, and she fiddled with the stem of her winegla.s.s. ”You're happy to touch me now.”

He remembered this afternoon's delicious kisses, and he couldn't suppress a reminiscent smile. ”More than happy.”

His reply didn't mollify her. Her color rose, but her regard didn't waver. ”What changed?”

He briefly studied the white damask tablecloth, then glanced up. ”Well, there's the fact that I can touch you.”

She blushed more furiously. ”So you're reconciled to living as my husband?” He heard her difficulty forcing the question out.

He sighed, and his voice deepened into gravity as he answered with equal difficulty. ”Charis, I'm not doing you any favors with what's happened. If I had a sc.r.a.p of decency, I'd leave you alone.”

Yes, he could touch her without turning into a beast. This morning hadn't proven that, but this afternoon had. He loved her, if anything, more than ever. If she asked him, he'd catch the stars from the sky for her.

But the factors that made him an unsuitable consort for this glorious girl remained as stark as ever.

Whatever private bliss life with his wife now promised, he was still a physical and mental wreck. His immediate strained reaction today to St. Helier's bustle confirmed that. The frail seedling of hope that had uncurled inside him this morning had shriveled as he'd felt the old, crus.h.i.+ng, sick reaction to the crowd. Painful reality had crashed down upon him in all its inexorable grimness.

What a fool he'd been to believe this temporary reprieve meant a permanent cure to his ills. He'd never lead a normal life, he'd always have to hold himself apart, isolated. He couldn't lock someone like Charis away from the world and h.o.a.rd her like a miser h.o.a.rded his gold. It wasn't fair, and eventually, he knew, she'd chafe at the restrictions of life with a recluse. He couldn't bear to see her bright spirit flicker and go out.

She said she loved him. But for all her sweet pa.s.sion and determination, he wasn't convinced she suffered anything more than a particularly virulent case of hero wors.h.i.+p. What he was firmly convinced of was his complete unworthiness. He'd failed so many times. He couldn't bear to contemplate failing her. As he surely would. Better he set her free to find the man she deserved.

He bit back his agony at the idea of her falling in love with someone else. He had to think of her future and not his own selfish desires.

Except that right now, his own selfish desires were paramount, unstoppable. He should leave her to sleep alone, but he already knew he wouldn't. The astonis.h.i.+ng joy he'd found in her arms, when he'd thought any joy at all lost forever, made restraint impossible.

St. Augustine's self-serving prayer flickered through his mind. Lord, grant me chast.i.ty and continence. But not yet.

Charis lifted her wine but didn't drink; instead, she stared into the red depths with a troubled expression. ”If you're sure it's an almighty mistake, why did you kiss me?”

Ah, smart girl, to pick the kiss as the betrayal of his principles rather than this morning's volcanic lovemaking. He told her the simple, incontrovertible truth. ”Because, G.o.d help me, I can't resist you.”

Startled, she looked up, and a smile of utter delight curved her full lips. ”Really?”

She was so pleased with herself, he couldn't help laughing. Although he was a villain to encourage her belief that they could find happiness. It was a role he suspected he'd become accustomed to in coming days. Because, having tasted her, there was no way on this earth he could keep his hands off her while they shared these rooms.

Still, even as he acknowledged her power, his reply held an edge. ”Yes, d.a.m.n you, really.”

”Well, that's all right, then.” She put down her wine, stood, and rang for the servants.

Surprised, he turned in his chair to watch her. ”Is that it? No more inquisition?”

”For the moment.”

He heaved a sigh of masculine relief although he didn't trust this sudden docility.

As the maids cleared dinner, tidied the room, built up the fire, prepared the bedroom, he stood beside the mantel, holding himself apart. Just this much activity around him, and his sinews tightened with revulsion.

No, he was far from cured, G.o.d d.a.m.n it to h.e.l.l.