Imogen brushed away her tears. “You were always so good. I could never understand your gambling.”

His smile dimmed. “I stopped going to hells the moment you stood on the beach and told me we should marry. So brave and beautiful. I didn’t think I deserved you then.”

“And now?”

“Well, I’ve already decreed myself a fool to let you get away once and I am determined to take every opportunity to never let you regret your faith in me.” His smile was blinding.

“I do love you.” She looped her arms about his neck. “But what happens if my eyesight fails again?”

“You’ll never be alone in the dark. I promise.”

He kissed her cheek, her jaw, her lips. When he drew back, Imogen was breathless with desire. Warmth crept over her body at the hot look in Peter’s eyes. “Show me what that means.”

His eyes widened in surprise when she removed the pin of his cravat, but he did not move to do her bidding or help.

She grinned that she could shock him to silence. The cravat came undone and she slowly pulled it free of his neck. “Lock the door, Peter, and show me what makes us different. I want to see you. All of you.”

After a long moment, Peter rolled off the bed and secured the door. When he returned, he was already divesting himself of the clothes covering his upper body. Imogen sat forward, fascinated by the brief glimpse of Peter’s skin. When his shirt came off her breath caught. His torso was smoothly muscled with a smattering of hair covering chest and forearms. He was quite breathtaking.

His hands fell to his footwear and finally his trousers sailed across the room. When he was utterly naked, she couldn’t breathe. Her imagination had not come close to understanding the power and appeal of the male form. He stepped close enough to the bed that she could reach out and touch him if she was brave enough. Imogen accepted the offer and reached for him.

Smooth, warm, and compelling. Imogen ran her hands over Peter’s taunt stomach and heaving chest, drinking in what might be her only memory of his body. She hoped it wasn’t, but just in case, she made a thorough examination of every inch within range.

His arms were strong and it explained how he could carry her so effortlessly from the beach. His wide chest narrowed toward his hips and when she lightly skimmed her fingers over his stomach, Peter caught her hands and lifted them away. “My turn.”

His fingers wiggled beneath the hem of her nightgown and lifted the material over her head, leaving her utterly bare. He studied her, running one fingertip over her skin but avoiding the places she suspected would be the most sensitive.

Her nipples hardened to pebbled points when he circled them. Her body trembled. Her mouth grew dry. She swallowed. No wonder he’d stopped her exploring him in the same manner. Such light touches were torture. “Peter,” she whispered.

He grinned and eased her back onto the mattress. When he settled at her side, he was smiling. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. Both inside and out.”

Imogen frowned and rolled to face him. “I wrote that.”

“I know. I remembered reading it and it struck me as particularly true.” He smoothed his hand over her hip and drew her upper thigh over his. “That is you, Imogen. The most beautiful, lovely and kind person in the world.”

Imogen blushed. “You’ve hardly seen the best of me.”

He cupped her rear then drew her body across the bed so she pressed against him tightly. “I want it all. Every moment. Every joy and sorrow. I love you so badly I can hardly think straight.”

She touched his face and stared deeply into his eyes, loving the emotions she glimpsed filling them. All for her. He was so confident they belonged together that any reservations fled. If they married and her eyesight failed again, he would not regret the choices he’d made. “Then stop thinking and just love me. Sometimes words can get in the way.”

He kissed her fiercely then, opening her mouth with his and sliding his tongue between her lips. Imogen curled an arm about his head and enjoyed the most remarkable sensations he stirred within her as their bodies touched. Restlessness gripped her. She threaded her fingers into his hair and clung to him so he had no chance to get away. He covered her, bringing their bodies even closer. She gripped him and then because he was so warm and close, she slid her hands over the skin of his back. “You feel...”

It was odd not to know how to describe the moment. Her pulse raced, her body craved to be close to him but she couldn’t describe the wonder properly. He nodded, staring deeply into her eyes as he widened her legs with his knees. His body fit snugly against her, and excited her beyond reason.

He touched her body with one hand while the other prevented his wei

ght from crushing her. His warmth and gentleness soothed her. “So lovely,” he whispered. His fingers drifted lower, over her belly and slid between her legs where she never expected he would want to go. She tensed but the movement only brought a deeper ache. Her legs widened of their own accord as he circled a place that made her cry out.

She clung to Peter. When he moved again, it was to thrust his hips and join with her. She knew what to expect but she still whimpered at the sharp pain that followed.

“Hell,” he muttered and froze in place. “I didn’t mean to rush like that.”

After a moment the pain eased to a dull ache. She met his gaze and saw the confident expression he’d worn replaced by a frown. She slid her hands up and down his back, noting the fine muscles clenching beneath them. “I’m fine.”

He cupped her face with a hand. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t worry so much. I’m not about to burst into tears.”


Tags: Heather Boyd Miss Mayhem Historical