Sutton's Spinster (The Sinful Suttons 1)

Jasper nodded, even wearier and more weighed down now than he had been upon initially entering his office. “Thank you. I think I’ll seek my bed.”

Chapter 12

Octavia woke to find she was not alone.

At some point during the night, Jasper must have joined her. He faced her, bedclothes tangled around his waist to reveal the beautiful contours of his naked chest. She took a moment to admire him, her eyes lingering on the bruises which were fading and would soon be gone, the scars traced over his skin. How she hated these signs of past pain. The knowledge that others had done him harm cut deeply.

He was still soundly asleep. Or so she thought. He had certainly fooled her once before. Tentatively, she reached for him, trailing her fingertips over his chest. He did not flinch, his breaths continuing evenly. How peaceful he was in slumber. There were many sides to Jasper Sutton, but this—his vulnerability—was the side that was hers alone. She relished in the time they spent together in the privacy of their chambers.

Not just for the physical intimacy they shared, but for the emotional intimacy as well. She was getting to know her husband in new and unexpected ways. This part of marriage, the bond growing between them, was something she had never anticipated. That he had come to her here last night instead of seeking out the peace of his own bed and chamber warmed her heart.

She told herself to stop touching him, to let him have his rest. Heaven knew what hour he had finally gone to bed. And yet, she could not seem to cease. She loved touching him.

I love him.

She froze, fingertips hovering over the protrusion of his collarbone.

She could not possibly… She had most definitely not…

Oh, good sweet heavens.

She was in love with Jasper Sutton.

When had it happened, and how?

He hummed low in his throat and shifted, one of his legs moving so that the bedclothes slid even lower on his torso, almost exposing him. That was when she noticed the pronounced ridge of him, pressed against the counterpane.

The new feelings swirling within her collided with the fiery storm of passion. He had introduced her to new realms of desire she had not imagined existed. He had taught her there was no shame in reveling in her body’s reaction to him.

“Jasper,” she whispered, suddenly needing him to wake up, not just so he could help assuage the hunger burning to life, but so he could offer distraction.

“Mmm,” he said, as if savoring something delicious, and stretched like a cat.

A big, handsome, dangerous cat.

She did not want to love him. Loving this man, she had no doubt, would not be easy. He was complex and forbidding and hard. But he was also soft when he was with his daughters, tender when he was with Octavia. He was so much more than she had ever supposed. He had proven himself to her, each day.

She gave his shoulder a small shake. “Jasper.”

His eyes blinked open, fringed with those sooty lashes most ladies would be jealous of. His hazel stare met hers, and she felt that same jolt she always had, right from the first moment she had dared to brazen her way into his edge-of-the-East End gaming hell.

“Minx.” The grin he gave her was slow and charming.

He quite took her breath.

“Good morning,” she managed.

“Is it?” He blinked and turned toward the windows where sunlight crept in through the edges of the curtains. “Blast. I’m damned tired.”

Guilt at waking him pierced her. “Then you should sleep more. Forgive me. I was not thinking about how little you must have slept.”

Indeed, all she had been thinking about was that they might indulge in one of her favorite aspects of married life. What a selfish wretch she was.

Jasper rolled toward her, burying his neck in her throat and nuzzling her. “Plenty of time for slumber later. Christ, you smell like heaven. What is that scent?”

He had noticed?

She could not suppress her smile. “Orange blossom, jasmine, lily of the valley, and carnation.”