And with that, Marcus took her hand and they sprinted for the doorway. As she ran beside him laughing, Marcus’s heart jumped into his throat. God, he loved this woman. He couldn’t imagine living a day without her. Ever.
They reached the waiting carriage and Marcus handed her inside, just before climbing in himself and settling back against the squabs. He took her face in his hands and kissed her. It was a mix of mouths, and her gentle response nearly undid him. “I have missed you so much,” he breathed.
“You’ve seen me every day,” she corrected. “What’s to miss?”
“Now that you’re my wife, I can kiss you anytime I want. I can hold you anytime I want. I can touch you anytime I want.” He touched her shoulder. “When we get home, I want to see you naked with just your wings. I want to touch them.”
“They’re very sensitive,” she whispered.
“I’ll be careful,” he breathed back.
He spent the next ten minutes kissing her, and she was breathless and he was hard as stone by the time they arrived at their new address. It was a small town house in Grosvenor Square. “It’s charming,” Cecelia said.
“Not as charming as you are,” Marcus said, tweaking her nose. “It’ll do for now.” He looked down at her and swooped her into his arms.
“What are you doing, Marcus?” she squealed. “Are you mad?”
He was. “Mad for you, yes,” he laughed as he sprinted for the door. It opened, and Cecelia squealed when she saw Mr. Pritchens standing behind the open door.
“Mr. Pritchens,” she said, laughing, as Marcus walked by the older man.
“Mrs. Thorne,” he said, his haughty nose in the air. Marcus stopped.
“Say that again,” he commanded.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Thorne,” Pritchens said, grinning at Cecelia.
“What are you doing here, Mr. Pritchens?” Cecelia struggled to get down from Marcus’s arms, and Marcus set her on her feet.
“We couldn’t have a household without him,” Marcus said. Cecelia wouldn’t have been happy if she didn’t have the old man. “He’ll go back and forth with us from one world to the other.” She looked up at Marcus, her eyes bright and shiny. “If that’s all right with you,” he added.
She grinned and smacked his arm. “Of course, it’s all right with me,” she said. She turned and kissed Marcus quickly. “You make me so happy,” she said.
Marcus looked at the older servant. “You, Mr. Pritchens, may take the rest of the day off, if you’ll have Cook leave some provisions for us in the kitchen.”
“They’re already prepared, Mr. Thorne,” he said. “You’ll find everything you’ll need when you’re ready for it.”
“There’s a good man,” Marcus said, and he took Cecelia’s hand, showing her the house.
“It’s lovely, Marcus,” she breathed.
It was actually a little too big, but it was all he could find on such short notice. “I thought we might have your father come and stay with us when he’s in Town. There’s plenty of room.”
“He’s not coming today, is he?” Cecelia whispered dramatically. Her finger trailed down the front of his coat.
“No one had better show up today,” Marcus warned, and then he took Cecelia’s hand and tugged her toward the staircase. He raced her to the top, and laughing, they stumbled into the master’s chambers.
In the center of the room was a large four-poster bed. An adjoining door led to a dressing room, and a bath was on the other side of that. “It certainly is large,” Cecelia breathed.
Marcus had Mr. Pritchens take care of the furnishings, and he’d done an amazing job.
Cecelia’s nose wrinkled when she heard splashing from the tub in the other room. “What’s that?”
He turned Cecelia toward him. “I had Mr. Pritchens send footmen up with a bath for you.”
***
She nodded. She was slightly overwhelmed. “You make me so happy, Marcus,” she said.