Glittering green eyes transfixed her. His voice emerged as a hungry growl. “No games tonight, Pen.”
“I don’t—” she began, although she knew exactly what he meant.
He kissed her again, sucking her lower lip into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue. Arousal spiked. The blatantly earthy kiss set her aflame.
“Let’s start again, as two people who desire each other.” His smile conveyed a warmth that she hadn’t realized until now had been absent. “Hell, as two people who like each other.”
“I’ve always liked you, Cam.” What a coward she was. She used his lukewarm word when lukewarm was as far from her feelings as London was from Tahiti.
“I wanted to cheer tonight when you told that old cat to go to blazes.”
“I thought you’d hate me for making a scene.”
“I’ve never felt so proud. If you could have seen yourself, fire all but shot from your eyes. If you weren’t on my side, I’d have been quaking in my boots.”
She smiled. “Nothing frightens you.”
An unreadable expression crossed his face as he drew her toward the center of the room. “You do.”
She touched his face. Usually, fearing she’d betray herself, she curtailed affectionate gestures. “Yet you say you like me.”
“I’m damned glad you married me.”
He didn’t love her. But tonight he committed to her in a way that he never had. She should be satisfied.
“So am I.” She was astonished to realize that she meant it.
He was surprised too. “Are you?”
She felt like she stood naked in sunlight. The radiating heat reached to her bones, thawing the chill in her heart. “I meant what I said. You’re an exceptional man and I’m proud to be your wife.”
“Darling—” He sounded like her declaration touched him beyond words.
She decided to rescue him. He wasn’t accustomed to expressing emotion, but it was clear that he pledged his loyalty and affection. It wasn’t enough, but it was a lot. “Now take me to bed.”
He looked happier. She’d long ago realized that sensuality offered him an escape from self-containment. On a physical level, he held nothing back. His soul had always been the closed kingdom.
But staring into his eyes, she was astonished to see that was no longer true. Tonight the gates to his deepest heart lay open. He trusted her. For Camden Rothermere, that was as close as he’d ever venture to love.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Supporting Sophie’s back with spread hands, Harry gently lowered her onto the chaise longue. His conscience gave one last squeak at the idea of debauching the Marquess of Leath’s sister in his aunt’s house and with his sister’s unknowing connivance. But the warm, lithe reality of Sophie beggared caution.
Sophie’s arms twined around his neck and she covered his face and neck and shoulders with enthusiastic kisses. Harry followed her down, sliding between her legs. She wriggled, brushing him with her mound. The feathery touch threatened to undo him. He gritted his teeth and prayed for control. This was her first time and he wanted her to enjoy it.
“Sophie, easy now,” he gasped as she tilted her hips in invitation. “This can be uncomfortable if you’ve never done it before.”
“It doesn’t feel uncomfortable,” she said and, God help him, curled her bare legs around him until her feet caressed the backs of his thighs.
Seeing her—flushed, aroused, excited—sent good intentions flying. “Do you know what’s going to happen?”
“Yes. My governess was a widow who thought girls shouldn’t be kept ignorant.” Her soft laugh set off vibrations that added another layer to Harry’s torment. “She made me promise never to tell my brother.”
“I can imagine. What did she say?”
He waited for Sophie to repeat the accepted advice to blue-blooded young women approaching marriage. About obedience and pain and procreation.
“She said that if I loved the man and he loved me and we were kind and patient with each other, nature would work its m