“That’s it?” He still wasn’t looking at her, but he heard the irritation in her voice. “You take me to bed. You tell me you love me. Then we just have breakfast as though nothing’s happened?”

He glanced up and tried not to notice how very…naked she was. “Charis, I wish you’d put on your nightdress.”

Her lips firmed with impatience. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

He sighed and ran his gloved hand through his hair. “Nothing should have happened.”

“Why?”

“Will you put on the confounded nightdress?” he demanded in desperation.

She stretched out one slender arm, hooked up the silk garment, and slid it over her tousled head. “There. Is that better?”

“Not really.” He breathed hard through his nostrils and fisted his hands at his sides. He burned to take her again. Her defiance only fed his incessant craving. He was an insatiable satyr. If the girl had any sense, she’d run a thousand miles to get away from him.

“I don’t see why this is a problem,” she said stubbornly. “You love me. I love you.”

“You don’t love me,” he bit out.

She rolled her eyes. The sudden reversion to sulky schoolgirl would have summoned a smile if he didn’t feel like she flayed his soul.

“No, of course I don’t,” she said sarcastically. “I’m a stupid sparrow of a female with hardly brains to feed myself. And you’re so terrifically unworthy. The contemptible fellow dragged weeping out of a pit in India when any other man would have taken the trifles you’d endured in his stride.”

“Charis…” he said in a dangerously low voice. Her mockery cut him to the bone. Especially as it held an unfortunate echo of his genuine concerns. “You go too far.”

“Well, it’s all so absurd, Gideon.” She spread her hands in a frustrated gesture, the movement making her breasts jiggle enticingly under the sheer silk. His mouth dried, and his hands flexed as if they cupped those firm mounds.

“We love each other.” Her cheeks flooded with pink. “Why are you standing half a room away?”

A glance under her eyelashes sent blood sizzling through his veins. Damn her, she could give Circe lessons. He braced his shoulders as if only physical restraint stopped him diving on her.

“Because I can’t touch you without losing my mind,” he snarled, need thundering through his body.

She slid her legs over the bed and stood straight before him. “I touched you before, and you didn’t notice.”

“You…”

He started back as if she touched him now. He’d vaguely noticed she’d taken his arm. When was the last time he’d vaguely noticed even the merest contact with anyone?

Good God, could she be right about sexual excitement offering a reprieve? None of the doctors had suggested it. Ever since his rescue from Rangapindhi, he’d assumed he faced a life of eternal celibacy. Had he been mistaken?

He compelled his lust-fogged mind to review the facts. He’d just maintained extremely intimate contact with his wife. He was far from composed—he was fuming and upset and randy as hell. But if he felt ill, it was his conscience that troubled him, not memories of Rangapindhi.

As if she knew he at last took her idea seriously, she stepped forward and placed one hand flat over his heart. Her cheeks were brilliant with color. “Gideon, what just happened was so lovely. Let’s not spoil it by fighting.”

He tensed for the familiar sick reaction. There was only the warmth of her hand and the hardening of his cock, which definitely approved of her plan for a normal marriage.

“Lovely?” he forced out in blank astonishment.

Lovely and exciting. His brain tried to make sense of what she said. Neither word seemed adequate to describe that earth-shattering sex. But he was human enough to be grateful she hadn’t found his untrammeled passion completely distasteful.

She nodded and sent him a smile that made his gut tighten with the same lust that had got him in trouble only a short while ago. “Yes, lovely.”

Hope, so long a stranger in his life, inched into uncertain life. Was it possible he had changed? He could hardly bear to contemplate the idea. The sudden intrusion of light into the Stygian darkness of his life blinded him, left him bewildered.

Hardly believing he could, he lifted one gloved hand and placed it over hers. Through the fine kid, the heat of her skin was a distant echo of life and joy.

For a forbidden moment, he basked in the glow of her hazel eyes. His hand shook, but with emotion not physical weakness.

Tags: Anna Campbell Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net