All About Passion (Cynster 7)

Hands behind his head, he stared up at the canopy, and wondered what the hell he was doing. Where he thought he was going.

Where they were going.

The correction summed up his problem. He could no longer consider the future from his standpoint alone. No matter what tack he took, what frame of reference, she was always in the picture.

In truth, her happiness was now more relevant than his, because his depended on hers.

Was it any wonder he was struggling?

It would have been easier if she’d made demands. Instead, she’d left the choice to him, avoiding the pitfall of setting her will against his. He was conditioned and prepared for such battles; the outcome would have been swift and certain.

And he wouldn’t now be lying here, engulfed in uncertainty.

She’d made her position clear. He ruled, he made the decisions-and if she didn’t like them, she would go her own way.

He didn’t doubt she would. At her core lay a stubborness he recognized, an unswerving devotion to her cause.

A devotion he coveted for himself. Not just for his political ambitions, not just for his marriage, not even for the effect such a devotion would have on his life.

He wanted her devoted to him.

Wanted to see it in her eyes as she took him in, feel it in her lips as she kissed him, in her touch as she caressed him. All she gave him now, he wanted-forever.

He glanced at her dark head, felt the warmth of her body, relaxed and boneless against him. Felt an immediate urge to seize, to lock her to him.

Looking back at the canopy, he wrenched his thoughts back to his problem.

He wanted her love, her devotion, wanted her exclusively focused on him. She was prepared to offer him that. In return, she wanted one thing.

He wanted to give it to her-wanted to love her-but… that, in and of itself, was the very last thing he wanted to do.

The ultimate contradiction.

There had to be a way around it. For his sanity’s sake, he had to find it. Had to find an option that would satisfy her, but still leave him unexposed, emotionally invulnerable.

The alternative was unthinkable. Still was and always would be.

Chapter 13

“Well, my dear! Married life clearly agrees with you.”

Francesca beamed. On tiptoe, she kissed Charles’s cheek, then turned to greet Ester. “I’m so glad you could come. It hasn’t been long, I know, but I’ve missed you.”

“And we’ve missed you, dear.” Ester brushed cheeks, then gave way to Franni.

Francesca searched Franni’s pale blue eyes; her cousin smiled blithely, stepped forward, and kissed her. Then she looked around. “It’s a very big house, isn’t it? I didn’t see much of it, last time.”

They were on the front porch. Charles’s traveling coach was being unloaded in the forecourt.

“I’ll take you on a tour, if you like.” Francesca looked at Ester and Charles, extending the invitation to them all.

“Why not?” Charles turned from shaking hands with Gyles. “I’d enjoy a guided tour about the ancestral home.”

“Let’s go upstairs and get you settled, then it’ll be time for lunch. After that, I’ll show you the Castle.”

Francesca started to gather Ester and Franni, but Franni slipped aside and went to stand before Gyles. She curtsied deeply. Gyles hesitated, then took her hand and raised her.