He took the present and stared at her.
“Open it,” she instructed.
He ripped the paper off and smiled in wonder at the books on his favorite subjects.
He did not know what to say. No one had ever made an effort to give him such a perfect gift before. His family generally rolled their eyes at his interests. Belle understood.
He swept her into a crushing embrace. “Thank you.” She reached up and kissed the underside of his chin. “You are welcome. I bought them at Hatchards the day Mr. Thorn found us.” She had risked her life and his wrath to buy him a wedding gift. A feeling he did not understand welled up inside. “They are perfect.” She sighed. “I am glad. I wanted so much to please you.” The truth of her words was in her voice. A heady feeling of contentment settled over him. His happiness was important to his new wife. He vowed he would do anything to keep her safe and protect her happiness as well.
She yawned.
“Come, Belle, ’tis time for bed.”
She nodded.
He wanted nothing more than to curl her sweet naked body next to his, but knew he could not stand the temptation. “’Tis best if you wear a sleeping gown.” She gave him a slow, sweet smile. “All right, Ian.” He tortured himself watching her slip off her robe and don the sleeping gown. By the time she was finished, he was panting like he had been chasing footpads.
She climbed into the bed. He blew out the candles in the sconces by the door. He took off his breeches and slid into bed beside her. She lay on the other side, her arms on top of the blankets, stiff as a fire poker.
Ignoring the voice of reason, he hauled her into his arms. She immediately snuggled against him, laying her head against his chest. He blew out the candle by the bed and then resettled her on his chest. Her soft curves were doing things to his noble intentions. “Stop your squirming.”
She stilled. “Is that better?”
Not by much. He still wanted to make love to her more than he wanted to take his next breath. “Aye.”
“Ian?”
He thought she was tired. “What?”
“When will I meet your family?”
His muscles contracted. The thought of introducing Belle to his faithless brother and family who all believed that he had tarnished his honor when he broke his betrothal made him uneasy. It had to be done. He made a decision then. “We will stop by Lansing Hall on our way home.”
“Do they live very close to us?”
Too close. “Aye.”
She played with the hair on his chest. He sucked in his breath. She did not seem to notice. “Do you think Squire Renton killed Mr. Thorn?” He sighed. He dinna want to discuss that foul man on his wedding night. “Aye.”
“Why?”
“He no longer had use for him.”
She shivered. “That is so cold.”
“The man is a bas—blackguard.”
“Yes.”
She was silent for a long while. He hoped she was going to sleep. “Will he come after us?”
He nearly swore at the fear he heard in her voice. “What would be the use? You are now married to me. He canna touch your fortune.” She sighed. “I know.” She let her fingers trail down his chest to his stomach. “He seems unbalanced though, as if he is motivated more than just by greed.” He had a hard time concentrating on her words when her hand was touching him. “I will protect you.”
He thought he heard her say, “Who will protect you?” but his mind was fully occupied with her roving fingers. She was tracing the line of his hair down below his waist. Her hands trailed down to his aching manhood.
“It would appear your problem is not resolved yet, husband.”
“You are too tender.” ’Twas all he could think to say. He wanted desperately for her to disagree.
She curled her fingers around him. He nearly came undone. “Then you will have to be very gentle, won’t you?”
He was gentle. She was demanding and finally they were both satisfied.
When they had found their completion and she lay completely limp beneath him, she sighed. “You were right.”
He could not summon the energy to lift his head and ask what she meant.
She told him anyway. “Making love is more than just touching. I felt my soul linked with yours.”
He smiled in the curve of her shoulder, satisfied.
Ian woke early the next morning. Belle’s body cuddled close to his. Her sleeping gown rode up around her hips. Her naked legs rubbed against his as she squirmed in her sleep. He felt passion stir, but something else as well. Something far more rare and precious.
Contentment.
He could never remember feeling this content. Memories of life at Graenfrae as a child and his father were fleeting. He could only remember snatched images of a giant man carrying Ian as a small boy on his shoulders and the lectures.
His father had drilled Ian’s responsibility to the people of Graenfrae into him. It was that burden of responsibility that had served to make Ian the outsider at Lansing Hall. No matter how kind his stepfather, Ian would never forget his own people. Graenfrae needed him.
As soon as Ian had finished school he had moved to Graenfrae, determined to continue undoing the damage his grandfather’s rebellion had done. His stepfather had insisted that Ian attend local gatherings. The earl had impressed upon Ian that he would need good relationships with his neighbors to make Graenfrae prosper.
It was at one of these gatherings that Ian had met Jenna. Jenna’s Scottish blood and concern for the needs of others had led Ian to ask for her hand in marriage. Besides, she had been beautiful.
Looking at his sleeping wife, Ian wondered how he could ever have been deceived by the charms of faithless Jenna. Belle’s beauty shone through her sparkling eyes and lips
quick to speak her mind. His gaze shifted to the books resting on the table beside the bed.
She wanted to please him.
She loved him.
His hold on her tightened. Her eyes fluttered open and he watched as her expression warmed. She smiled. “Good morning, husband.”
“Good morning, wife.” He lazily caressed her hip.
She nuzzled closer and touched his chest. “This is a very nice way to wake up.”
“Aye.”
“Will we wake up this way every morning, do you think?” He grinned. “God willing.”
She blushed. “I did not mean that.”
“What?”
“Making love. I was not discussing making love, although that is indeed a very pleasant pasttime. I mean to ask, will we share a bedchamber at Graenfrae? Or will I have my own bed and you have yours?” She kept her gaze focused on his neck as she asked the questions.
His reaction to her question took him by surprise. The very idea of her sleeping anywhere but with him left him furious. “We’ll share the master bedroom like my parents.” He took her chin and forced her head up so that he could see into her eyes. “Do you object?”
She shook her head as vigorously as his grip would allow. “No. None. I like waking up in your arms.” She blushed at the admission and he couldn’t resist kissing her.
He spoke against her lips. “Aye, I like waking up with you as well, Belle.” Her hands slid up and clasped behind his neck. She moved her face forward the small space that separated them and kissed him. Her lips were soft and pliant on his. He wanted more. The erotic noises coming from her said she did too. He slipped his tongue into her mouth. Within moments they were lost again in the maelstrom of passion that erupted each time they touched.
Ian’s next coherent thought was that waking up every morning with his passionate wife was going to be exhausting. When he said so, he was surprised that she did not erupt in feminine indignity. The cause was apparent at once. Belle had fallen back asleep. She curled trustingly against him, her body still damp from their lovemaking.
He would have to tease his wife about her stamina. It was his final thought before drifting into oblivion.
The sound of Belle talking to someone woke Ian. His hands instinctively went out to find his wife and met nothing. Belle was not in the bed. The bed curtains, which had been open earlier that morning, were now closed. They cast a shadow of darkness and Ian could not tell how late he had slept.