Chapter 8 #2
“Later, when you promise to be mine, I’m going to make you scream, an echo heard throughout this house, between the two of us, even after we have children racing through the halls.
” Nipping a tender patch of skin beneath her jaw, he sucked her earlobe between his teeth until the ground swept out from beneath her.
She would have gone down had she been standing.
“There are no servants, not yet. We’re going to tup in every room, on every surface, I promise you, before they arrive. ”
Then he let her go, steadying her with that wicked smile of his, until she wasn’t shaking. Or not so much that he noticed. What went on beneath a woman’s skirts were her own dealings.
Bella followed him down the corridor, noting what an excellent physique he had.
(Because after that kiss, she was in this mood.) Trim bottom, round but not plump.
Lean waist. Broad shoulders. His sooty hair—longer than style dictated, a choice she loved—draped over his crisp collar.
He rarely went for formal hats or flashy waistcoats.
He was a gray-on-gray with the occasional formal blacks man.
She trusted his fashion and his pledges and his heart—and she always would.
Nigel paused at the parlor door, glancing back, finding her gaze lower than it should be.
A gleam entered his eyes. Taking the fingertip of his kidskin glove in his teeth, he yanked each finger free while her pulse soared, the part of her body between her thighs that he owned melting.
“I bought new sheets, as we made quite a tangle of the first. Silk, the finest my ill-gotten blunt could buy.”
Bella laughed, not about to let it be that easy. Shrugging, she strolled into a room redolent of cinnamon, nutmeg, and balsam fir. “Why would your bedding matter to me?”
Then she paused in place. Oh , she marveled . She hadn’t imagined she desired a grand deed.
Until she saw one.
An explosion of Christmastide joy filled the room. Boxes of decorations, evergreen garlands, candles, wreaths. Enough for five homes.
Nigel halted beside her, the tail of his greatcoat whipping against his legs.
He gestured to the trees standing guard before the bay windows.
“I couldn’t decide which one I liked best or which one you would like best, so I purchased both.
Imported directly from Germany, where this inside-the-house shrub foolishness is becoming quite the holiday tradition.
I guess that’s where Victoria got the idea.
There are boxes of gewgaws, too, enough for all London.
” He scrubbed his shoulder over his chin.
“Though I’m not sure we should follow this ritual as the royals are known for absurdity. And insanity. ”
Bella crossed to the saplings taking up a large section of the parlor. Both were so tall she had to crane her head to see the spiky tops. She clapped her hands, delighted. “There’s an angel atop one, and something that looks like a devil atop the other.”
Nigel chuckled, seeming to relax as he observed her pleasure. “The devil is me.” He came to stand next to her, his gaze also drawn to the spectacle. “You’re the angel.”
She slipped her hand into his and linked their fingers. The pulse at his wrist was tapping out a lively tune. “You have enough for the entire family.”
He hummed out a half answer and brought her hand to his lips, dusting a kiss across her knuckles. “That’s what my father said, too. He and the Duke of Leighton helped me locate much of it. You know, his wife, the countess, has the shipping enterprise.”
Letting him go, Bella circled the angel tree, bending to retrieve a glass ornament in the shape of a star. After hanging it, she stepped back to have a look. “You’re going to make a home here, Nigel Streeter. A splendid one.”
“ We’re going to make a home here, Arabella Macauley.”
She peeked at him through the balsam’s branches. His gaze had taken on that honey-gold hue which meant he was deep in thought. Later, she’d make him beg and gasp, his eyes going the color of mahogany.
That she knew these little secrets about him astounded her.
That he’d let her in enough to know them thrilled her.
Love pulsed through her in waves, one after the other until she could hardly catch her breath. She wanted to grow old with him. She wanted to have his children. She wanted this house and this life. She wanted the us .
Coming around the tree, he took her hand and led her to the settee that had been jammed in the corner to accommodate the trees.
Piled atop it were loads of fabric samples, paint chips, and books on furnishings.
Nigel rocked back in his heels, discomfited.
“Xander said you’d always wanted to decorate your own house.
That you’ve done most of what I see in their home because Pippa doesn’t much care for fashion and such. ”
He pointed to the stacks, coughed lightly.
Again, revealing the vulnerable shyness that floored her.
“I don’t care what you choose. I don’t care what you spend.
I’ve done well, honestly, really, really well with the Devil’s Lair.
I have a gift for gaming, I suppose. Make it yours, this place, is what I’m saying. If you’re here and content, I’m happy.”
Before she could speak, spill the thousands of dreams and hopes fluttering through her, he brought her close and kissed her, gently, a feather touch.
Too soon, he stepped back, reaching into his waistcoat pocket to withdraw a small velvet box.
“I don’t have a ring with history to give you, imp.
A surname beyond the one I was charitably offered when I was eleven years old.
I can only offer my heart and my future.
My past, if you wish me to share it. This,” he said and tapped the box to her heart, then his, “will go to our daughter someday. Or her daughter. That’s where it begins, the Streeter legacy of love, kindness, and prosperity.
I promise to never take that good fortune for granted. ”
Bella went to her toes and kissed him, letting everything in her swell and flow into him. Delighted, she giggled and thrust out her hand. “Put it on.”
He laughed, his cheeks heating, the darling, darling man. “Is that a yes?”
She wiggled her fingers. “ Now , Streeter.”
The ring was incredible. A canary-yellow diamond without another jewel to mar its beauty.
“It’s rare, I’m told. The color and such.
I had help with the sizing, from Pippa.” He slid it on her finger and beamed at the flawless fit.
Turning it this way and that, he tapped the stone with his fingertip.
“It’s you, the sunshine, the glow. You fill me with near this color, every day, Bell. It’s like liquid bliss.”
Tears overtook her, and she crumpled against his chest. Love was more powerful than her meager effort to contain it.
“Don’t, Bell.” He wrapped her in his arms. “Ah, darling imp, don’t cry.”
Bella sniffled into his waistcoat, breathing in the scent of leather and spice. When would she ever get used to this remarkable man being hers ? All hers. “They’re happy tears. I love the ring. I love you , more than I’ve ever thought to love anyone.”
Cradling her chin, he pressed his lips to hers. “I don’t want to wait. Please don’t make me do the society dance of a months-long engagement. I’m begging you.”
Bella trailed her finger down his waistcoat buttons, teasing him. What better time to get every little thing she wanted out of this glorious evening? “If you let me watch the festivities from the Devil’s Lair gallery for one full night, not a second less, I’ll marry you tomorrow.”
He leaned back, eyes wide when they met hers. “Truly, you’re negotiating this ?”
She placed her hand over his chest, his heartbeat kicking beneath her palm. “If I wait, you’ll say it’s not something you want your wife to do. Now… I have power, so I’m going to use it. Give me a moment, and I’ll think of more things forbidden to me before now.”
“Darling imp,” he whispered and pressed his rigid shaft against her hip, “you have power. Please, please use it.”
Laughing, she took his hand, guided him out of the parlor and up the stairs.
Where they negotiated all night.