“We’ve made love almost every night for three months.”
A multitude of pleasurable images flashed into her mind. Her life with Hugo was everything she’d ever dreamed of and more. “And what a glorious three months it has been.”
“You’re not the only one who has a secret,” he said, his velvet voice caressing her, hardening her nipples. “I’ve purchased your father’s Bargello painting from Lord Gray. I know how you’ve longed to own what most consider his greatest work.”
Lara gasped. Tears welled in her eyes. She had made the lord numerous offers these last few years. “But Lord Gray said he couldn’t part with the painting and regards it with great fondness. He said it reminds him of his travels abroad in his youth.”
“I’m the Earl of Denham.” Hugo moistened his lips. “And I can be extremely persuasive.”
Lust left the muscles in her core aching for his touch. Love swelled her heart until she feared the organ might burst from her chest. “Then I must find a way to repay you.”
“I’m the one in your debt. You’ve given me everything I could want and more.” He smoothed his hand over her stomach. “If we’re blessed with a son, he’ll be the next Viscount Aronson.”
“And he’ll be as strong and as clever as his father.” She covered his hand and rubbed in affectionate strokes. “And if we’re blessed with a daughter, she’ll be Lady Sophia de Wold.”
Hugo arched a brow. “You’ve already chosen her name?”
“Indeed.” When not tending to her husband and her duties, she’d thought of little else all week.
“Then I only hope she’s as impulsive and as untamed as her mama. No doubt she will have your lively and independent spirit.”
“And your sense of adventure.”
He stared into her eyes for a few heartbeats. “My sense of adventure demands we retreat to the tower. It is a bright day, in more ways than one.” His gaze slid down the column of her throat and came to rest on the valley of her breasts. “And the view is particularly stunning.”
Heat swirled in her stomach. The nausea dissipated at the prospect of spending a few hours alone with her husband.
He cupped her cheek. “But if you would rather retire to our chamber and rest, then—”
“No. My impulsive nature relishes the prospect of a wild and reckless afternoon.”
A sinful smirk played on his lips, but then his eyes brimmed with affection and the next kiss was slow, achingly passionate. “I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you.”
“And I love you, Hugo,” she breathed against his mouth, “more than I could ever express in words. When I made plans to help Montague find happiness, I never dreamed I’d find something so wonderful, too.”
“Magical things happen when one opens their door to a stranger on a cold winter’s night.”