Page 68 of More or Less a Countess
Hurt.
She’d hurt him. That day, at Wapping Old Stairs, with water seeping into his boots and the sun catching at her hair as she frowned down at her sketchbook—she’d been lying to him that day, and every day before and after, and the lie hurt him more than he’d ever imagined it could.
But even in the midst of his pain and fury, he knew he was no better. He’d been so determined to find a bride as quickly as possible he hadn’t even known which lady he was courting. Could he really blame her for using him, when he’d done the same to her?
Their courtship began with a lie, yes, but that didn’t mean they had to start their marriage with one, and he needed the truth from her now. “You were afraid I’d refuse to see you, and you wouldn’t be able to get the sketches you needed for your book? The book, Violet…was it the only reason you wanted me?”
The question had been tormenting him for the past week. He was desperate to hear her answer, but half-afraid of it, too.
She swallowed. “At first, yes, but then…”
“Then?” He held his breath.
A faint flush rose in her cheeks, and her words emerged in a sudden rush. “And then it wasn’t about the book anymore.”
She didn’t say anything else, or even explain what she meant, but the breath Nick had been holding since the moment he’d discovered her deception left his lungs in a heated rush. “Tell me what itwasabout, Violet.”
She gave him a shy glance, but her dark blue eyes were hopeful. “That day we spent at Wapping Old Stairs…after that day, I just wanted…you.”
The last word was soft, a whisper only, but Nick heard it, and his eyes drifted closed.
“But I know that’s no excuse for lying to you, and I—”
“It doesn’t matter.” He opened his eyes, reached for her hand, and pressed his lips to her palm. “I forgive you. It’s done, Violet.”
Her eyes went wide. “I—but you were so angry that night. I thought…I didn’t think you’d ever forgive me.”
“Iwasangry.” He stroked his thumb over her cheekbone. “But even then I knew I’d forgive you.”
Wonder lit her face, and for the first time since they’d become betrothed, the smile she gave him was genuine. “I don’t know that I deserve such a forgiving husband after my deceitful behavior, but it seems I’m to be rewarded with one, after all.”
“Is it a reward, having married me, Violet?” His voice was soft. “A reward, and not a punishment?”
Her eyelashes swept down to hide her eyes. “I could ask you that same question. I daresay you never expected to marry a lady like me. No gentleman wants a bluestocking for a wife.”
He cupped her face in his palm. “Ido.”
Her eyes filled with questions, but Nick didn’t give her a chance to ask them. Instead, he lowered his mouth and hovered his lips over hers, making it clear he wanted to kiss her, but still giving her a chance to pull away.
She didn’t. She curled her fingers into the lapels of his coat and parted her lips in invitation.
Nick groaned as he took her mouth with his. He’d only kissed her twice before, but he already knew the shape of her lips, had memorized her sweet taste, and it felt as if he’d been kissing her for years.
Or for a lifetime.
He lifted her arms to twine them around his neck, another groan tearing from his throat when she sank her fingers into his hair. She sighed when his mouth opened over hers, and that breathless little sigh undid him.
He darted his tongue out to trace her bottom lip, and a faint whimper rose from her throat at his urgency, but she didn’t pull away from his hungry kiss. Her fingers closed into fists in his hair, and when his lips moved away from her mouth to brush dozens of open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and behind her ear, she responded with a desperate tug.
Her passion, the tiny sting of pain made Nick wild to have more of her. “Violet, let me…” His hands moved restlessly over her back, then settled on her curved hips. “Hold onto me, sweet.”
Her tongue met his in a single shy stroke, such an innocent caress, and yet her eagerness had him breathless and panting as he surged inside, his tongue searching for more of her silken warmth.
She grabbed his shoulders with a gasp when he lifted her in his arms and set her down on his lap. He nudged her legs gently apart with his thigh to make a space for himself between them. A helpless moan escaped his lips when he remembered how she’d straddled him in the carriage, stroked him between her thighs again and again until she’d made him shudder with pleasure in her arms.
His cock hardened painfully, and oh, God, he wanted to do that for her, here and now—to make her come again and again as he held her, her breathless cries in his ears as she trembled against him. He slid his hands under her skirts to stroke her thighs, crazed with love and desire, but just then the carriage rattled as they jolted over a deep rut in the road, and it jerked him from his sensual haze.
“Not here, Violet…we’re almost at the inn, sweetheart.”
