The taste of Ian’s mouth was pure heaven, but it was his admission of love that made Tess delirious with happiness. Clinging to him with all her might, she kissed him ardently, showing him without words what she felt inside: Relief, elation, wonder, joy, love.…
Eventually, however, Ian pulled away, leaving her lips bereft. A fresh tinge of apprehension surged through Tess until he took her face in his hands.
“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice husky and urgent.
She stared up into his heated gray eyes. “You mean, say that I love you? I do love you, Ian, so very much—” Tess declared, only to be interrupted by another fierce kiss.
Her breath fled as he lifted her off her feet and took her mouth rapaciously. She welcomed his ferocity, though, returning his ardor measure for measure.
It was a very, very long while before Ian allowed her any respite by setting her down and ending their embrace. Dazed as she was, Tess made no protest when he guided her backward and settled upon the sofa with her.
Drawing her into his lap, Ian cradled her against his chest and simply held her, his forehead pressed against hers while their racing pulses slowly began to calm.
Tess was the first to speak. “You truly love me?” she asked, seeking reassurance just as he had done.
He drew back to meet her gaze. “Truly. I love you dearly, my sweet Tess. More than I can say.”
She shook her head in wonderment. “I never expected to hear those words from you, not in a thousand years.” She reached up to touch his beloved face. “Lady Wingate thought you might be harboring some unacknowledged affection for me, but I wouldn’t believe her.”
Ian’s smile was slow and tender. “She was right, love, although I did my utmost to pretend otherwise.”
“It seems you have been concealing other secrets as well,” Tess pointed out, feeling a trifle more confident now. “When I spoke to her this afternoon, she revealed any manner of interesting details I never knew about you.”
His eyebrow lifted. “Details such as …?”
“Such as the state of your finances when you inherited the title from your father. I never realized you were facing ruin, Ian, or that your gaming was born out of necessity.”
Ian’s expression sobered. “It’s true. I was drowning in debt from my father’s reckless extravagances and calamitous misfortunes at the gaming tables. But I happen to have an uncanny skill at cards, and gambling was the only way I could survive financial disaster and save Bellacourt, as well as all the other money-gorging properties that accompanied the dukedom, including Falwell Castle.”
Very glad he’d been able to save his ancestral home and the smaller castle in Cornwall, Tess remembered what else her godmother had told her. “Lady Wingate suggested you are not only skilled at cards, but that you have a Midas touch when it comes to business.”
“That may be a slight exaggeration,” Ian replied, his mouth curving. “But I invested my winnings wisely and eventually managed to restore the family fortune to its former glory.”
Tess slid her arms around his neck again. “And here all this time I thought you were a wicked libertine, following in your father’s footsteps.”
Despite the teasing note in her voice, Ian returned a somber answer. “I well deserved my wicked reputation, Tess. I squandered my youth in rebellious escapades and shirked my responsibilities out of spite. I could have easily ended up like my father. But I have changed my wicked ways. I no longer need to gamble, and I certainly no longer indulge in amorous affairs. I haven’t for quite some time.”
“No?” she asked somewhat dubiously. “Why not?”
“Because I want no other woman but you, my lovely Tess.”
She felt a
warm glow welling inside her. “I can scarcely believe you love me, Ian. I was convinced you lacked all heart.”
“I do have a heart. It’s just that you twisted it and tied it into knots.”
Tess smiled to think she had such power over him, but then her amusement faded and turned to sadness. “I doubt your notoriety was solely of your own making. I suspect Richard helped by embellishing your sins at every opportunity.”
“I am certain of it.” Ian’s mouth tightened a moment. “I’m clearly no saint, Tess, but it always frustrated the bloody hell out of me that you believed Richard to be one.”
Hearing the grating note in his voice, Tess searched his face. “I know differently now, Ian.”
His eyes held sympathy. “Still, I regret you ever had to find out about his foibles.”
“No, I needed to know. I wanted to know.” Tess frowned. “I now understand why my godmother seemed unhappy when I became betrothed to Richard. Yet she told me today that even before then, she favored you, in spite of your rakish ways, or perhaps because of them.”
“Did she?”