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Too Wicked to Wed

Page 29

by Cheryl Holt


  “I know.”

  “Don’t let me walk away.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying my damnedest to stop you.”

  “Don’t let me be stupid enough to go.”

  “I can’t; I won’t.”

  He kissed her, his lips falling lightly on hers, and it was the sweetest, most magnificent embrace they’d ever shared. It promised and pledged, accepted and enchanted, and after so much time apart, it was like coming together all over again.

  When it ended, he was glimmering with desire and another deeper sentiment she couldn’t define.

  “I . . . I . . . love you,” he said, the words seeming to have been wrenched from the bottom of his soul. “I love you more than my life.”

  “I can’t believe you finally realized it.”

  “I want it all. I want you, and this child we’ve made, and a dozen more.” He swallowed, emotion threatening to swamp him. “I want a home of my own, that’s my own place, where I can belong, where I’ll always be welcome.”

  “Then it shall be yours, my dear, dear man.”

  “Will you have me, Helen?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “When?”

  “We’ll discuss the details later.” She helped him up. “Now, let’s get you into bed.”

  He raised a brow. “Only if you’ll join me.”

  She saw a rekindled flicker of the randy, enticing knave who’d swept her off her feet, who’d stolen her heart and never given it back.

  “For what?” she inquired.

  “Why would you have to ask? After how well I taught you, I shouldn’t have to explain it all over again.”

  “What would the doctor say?”

  “The hell with him. What does he know?”

  “Obviously more than you. I’m sure he wouldn’t permit you to have company—at least not that type of company.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re rather fatigued, Captain.”

  “I am not. Suddenly, I’m feeling fit as a fiddle.”

  “You couldn’t . . .”

  “I could.”

  “You’re exhausted.”

  “I might surprise you.”

  “You’re an incredible optimist.”

  “I’m merely stating the facts, Miss Mansfield.”

  She rested a palm on the front of his trousers and was amazed when his cock stirred. She shook her head. “You’re half-dead, yet you have the vigor to philander?”

  “I was stabbed. Not castrated.” He went to the bed and stretched out, exhaling a satisfied breath as the mattress cradled his body. “I’m going to lay here just like this.”

  “And what am I supposed to do?”

  He grinned, his sexy, potent gaze wandering down her torso. “I think you’ll figure it out pretty fast.”

  She hesitated, then laughed. “I think I will, too.”

 

 

 


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