To Romance a Charming Rogue (Courtship Wars)

And in truth, because of his knowledge of sorrow, he was more able to fully appreciate the joy Eleanor brought him.

Easing onto his side, Damon slid his arm around her, absorbing her sleeping body into his.

My wife, he thought as happiness reached deep inside him.

Elle's love was fierce and intense and healing. Her lovemaking was the same. She welcomed his passion with a joyous delight that only compounded his own.

After another moment, though, he brushed a tender kiss on her bare shoulder, then pulled the covers up to keep her warm. Sliding out of bed, Damon shrugged on a dressing gown over his nude body and quietly opened the French door that lead to an outer balcony.

Stepping outside into the coolness, Damon looked out over the dew-drenched morning, drinking in the last of the sunrise. He'd done this often during their time here. He and Eleanor had remained at Rosemont through the final week of the house party, since she wouldn't abandon her aunt when Lady Beldon's sensibilities were so wounded. But once they arrived at his family seat, Eleanor had set out with single-minded resolve to banish his demons.

She understood how important his brother had been in his life, so they'd spent long hours tramping through the woods and riding all over Wrexham lands, exploring the forgotten hideaways where he and Joshua had played as boys, swimming and fishing and frolicking. Not surprisingly, Damon felt much the same camaraderie with Eleanor that he'd known with his brother.

The most painful moment had come when they visited his family's graves in the village cemetery. But Eleanor had helped him say farewell at last.

She had also accompanied him when he called at his tenant farms and made himself known to his tenants. For the most part, they forgave him for being an absentee landlord, since their cottages and parcels of land had always been well tended and they wanted for little. But Damon was determined to take a stronger interest in the management of Oak Hill.

Additionally, he had tried his utmost to make up for the pain he'd caused Eleanor. They'd spent long nights tangled in each other's bodies, sharing the whispers and secrets of lovers. They fit together so perfectly, like two halves of a whole. His greatest pleasure was in pleasing her, and she was easily pleased-

It was no surprise to Damon when Elle quietly crept up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. His body knew hers instantly. She stood with her cheek pressed against his back for a long moment.

When eventually she stepped back, Damon turned to face her, taking in the lovely picture she made: her raven curls tousled, her vivid blue eyes soft and hazy with sleep, her luscious body barely concealed by her cambric night rail.

She smiled at him with such entrancing warmth that his heart turned over. Then, her eyes dancing with sudden mischief, she reached up and slipped something over his head.

“You should wear your medal with pride, my lord,” Eleanor said, laughter in her voice.

Damon chuckled softly as he fingered the gold medallion, which dangled from a red satin ribbon. Prince Lazzara had awarded him a medal for extraordinary service to his royal house, as well as sending a crate of oranges and several casks of excellent Mar sala wine in gratitude for their efforts to keep him safe.

His highness had also invited them to visit his principality when they made their wedding trip to Italy next week, after Damon took Eleanor to see his sani-torium. But they had jointly decided that they'd had their fill of the prince for now.

As for the prince's perfidious cousin, Signor Vecchi had been banished to India, to a diplomatic post there, although reportedly Lazzara was showing interest in the signor's beautiful daughter, Isabella, who had been the motivation for Vecchi's machinations in the first place.

Shaking his head, Damon drew the medal from around his neck and consigned it to his pocket. “I trust you'll understand, darling, why I don't wish to wear a reminder of a rival when I am making love to my beautiful wife.”

Eleanor tilted her head to one side, her tone teasing when she asked, “Do you intend to make love to me?”

She had no doubt what his answer would be, Damon knew. She'd become so attuned to him that she could sense his feelings, his thoughts, his desires.

Even so, he replied, “But of course.”

The smile Elle gave him in response was so sweetly pure-so sensual, so womanly, so beautiful-that need slammed into his chest. He felt as if the sun was warming him from the inside. And when she eagerly turned her face up to his and took his lips, he felt his desire soar even higher.

Kissing her was like coming home after being too long away… infinitely satisfying. Yet it was still not enough. He wanted more.

And so did Eleanor, apparently, for she broke off with a shiver. “I wish you would hurry and make good on your intentions, Damon,” she prodded, though her tone still held amusement. “And no, that is not an invitation for you to take me here standing on a balcony, in view of the world. It is chilly out here, and we shouldn't scandalize your servants any more than we have already done these past two weeks.”

“Your complaint is duly noted, wife,” Damon asserted, sweeping her up into his arms. Then carrying her inside, he closed the door with his heel, shutting out the cool morning mists.

Clinging to his neck, Eleanor returned his intent regard. His eyes had softened with laughter and something far more powerful: Love.

The depth of love she saw in Damon's eyes was a constant reassurance, she reflected as he laid her on their bed and divested her of her nightdress. And she knew his feelings were mirrored in her own eyes as she watched him shrug off his dressing gown.

Her admiring gaze riveted on the broad expanse of his bare chest, on the sinewed torso sculpted by sunlight. His body was strong and vital and even more breathtaking than any woman could hope for in a lover. His skin was tinted a deeper golden hue now after all the hours they had spent swimming together-as was hers.

His reciprocal perusal warmed Eleanor, his bold, seductive gaze searing her wherever it touched. Yet she yearned for Damon to hold her, for the touch of skin against warm skin.

She sighed with pleasure when he joined her in their marriage bed and proceeded to fulfill his prom ise to make love to her.