Wild Star (Star Quartet 3)

“I’ll contain my delirium.” Her heart was pounding with excitement.

Brent unbuttoned his vest and shirt. “I hope you aren’t hungry.”

“Why?”

“I don’t intend to let you out of that bed for quite a while, that’s why.”

“Brent, you are the most contrary man. You’re acting like a man with nothing more on his mind than—”

She couldn’t find the right words for her comparison.

“Hush, woman. I’ll tell you everything you want to know after I’ve loved you silly.”

Byrony had no intention of arguing. “Just know for the moment, Byrony,” he said against her mouth, “that I love you, and if you ever leave me again, I’ll—”

“What?” she said, grinning up at him.

“Later,” he said, his hand caressing her throat. “I’ll tell you later.”

“How ever did you manage that?” Byrony asked, her eyes on the trays of food delivered by a steward some three hours later.

“My charm,” Brent said. He placed the trays between them on the bed. “While you regain your strength—here’s some chicken—I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

Byrony bit into the roast chicken breast. “I would like to know if there is some salt for the chicken.”

He looked taken aback. “So,” he said, “all I ever have to do in the future when you become recalcitrant is throw you on your back.”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s about it, I suspect. The salt, please.”

“Dammit, Byrony, don’t you want to know about everything?”

She was eyeing one of the trays. “Can I have a slice of that delicious-looking bread?”

“Here,” he said, and tossed it to her.

Some minutes later, Brent interrupted her enthusiastic description of her voyage to San Diego. “Are you nearly through?”

“Why, yes. The chicken was marvelous, the carrots were nice and crisp just as I like them, and—”

“Enough.”

Byrony looked at him beneath her lashes, then fell back onto the pillows, laughing.

Brent put t

he dinner remains to the floor, then stretched himself beside his still-giggling wife. “Is your strength back up, Brent?”

“You’re no lady,” he said.

“Aren’t you glad?”

“I’ll be glad only when you let me tout all my greatness to you.”

“You sold Wakehurst, freed all the Wakehurst slaves, gave them each money, and brought many of them to California. You’re going to buy a ranch south of San Francisco and start your own town, replete with black citizens. You gave Laurel the proceeds from the sale and sent her on her way, her pockets well lined. I imagine that you arranged for my mother to have help, and hired a man to deliver money to their house. Is there anything else?”

“I went to bed with Laurel, for old times’ sake.”

“No, you didn’t. And Josh is in charge of all the former slaves.”