“A curricle’s not designed for lovemaking,” he said unsteadily.
Charis was still dazed. Joy resonated through her like music. “I don’t care. It was wonderful.”
She sounded like a besotted ninnyhammer. What matter? She was a besotted ninnyhammer.
He loved her.
He touched her cheek with a gesture that split her vulnerable heart open. She’d loved him from the first, but until now she’d had no idea how physical pleasure turned love into something so vivid, it became a living entity.
“Shall we go back to the inn?” His voice was velvety with anticipation.
She curved into his side. For the first time, his arm circled her shoulders. She basked in the closeness. Her lips tingled with the memory of his kiss. Strangely, that kiss had changed things between them more than either time he’d used her body.
Hope poured into her brimming heart.
He loved her. She loved him. What could defeat them?
Eighteen
Across the remains of the meal he’d ordered in their rooms, Gideon watched his wife. The hostelry was famous for its cuisine. For all the attention he’d paid to the elaborate fare, it might have been sawdust.
Instead, his heart, his mind, his soul were full of his bride.
Charis.
Beautiful, beautiful Charis. His delight and his despair.
She’d been quiet on the drive back from the countryside. Nor had she spoken much during dinner. Like him, she’d toyed with her food. Now she looked up. Doubt swam in her hazel eyes like sharks in a clear sea.
She set down her fork with a decided click. Her slender hand clenched against the table. “What made you change your mind?”
Gideon didn’t pretend to misunderstand. She was too clever to let his new attitude go unremarked and too brave to avoid the subject.
After a moment’s thought, he gave her a frank answer. “I’m not sure I have.”
He was guiltily aware that he played dangerous games with their future here. He still believed her best chance for happiness lay in a life separate from h
is.
But it was more than mortal flesh could stand to share a bed with his delectable wife and not touch her. Especially after the desolate hell he’d subsisted in since Rangapindhi. Charis thought because they loved each other, they had a chance. Gideon knew in his bones that love only made the price they’d both pay for their current indulgence more excruciating.
He should stay away from her. But he couldn’t.
Of all his many sins, perhaps this was his greatest.
Her lips compressed with impatience, and she fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. “You’re happy to touch me now.”
He remembered this afternoon’s delicious kisses, and he couldn’t suppress a reminiscent smile. “More than happy.”
His reply didn’t mollify her. Her color rose, but her regard didn’t waver. “What changed?”
He briefly studied the white damask tablecloth, then glanced up. “Well, there’s the fact that I can touch you.”
She blushed more furiously. “So you’re reconciled to living as my husband?” He heard her difficulty forcing the question out.
He sighed, and his voice deepened into gravity as he answered with equal difficulty. “Charis, I’m not doing you any favors with what’s happened. If I had a scrap of decency, I’d leave you alone.”
Yes, he could touch her without turning into a beast. This morning hadn’t proven that, but this afternoon had. He loved her, if anything, more than ever. If she asked him, he’d catch the stars from the sky for her.