Chapter Twenty-Four
“Where did you get that?” Cassandra’s eyes shot to the paper. “You said you wouldn’t read it!”
“You should have said something, Cassandra, you should have told me.” Cupping her face in both hands, his lips captured hers, holding her to him as if a moment of not touching her would cause her to slip from his fingers. “I’ve been in love with you this whole time.”
Entwining her arms around his neck, she buried her face in his shoulder and her walls dropped, leaving space only for honesty. “I was afraid.”
Afraid of being hurt, of forever wanting what she could never have.
How could she have confessed something she hadn’t been able to admit to herself?
There was nothing more dangerous than love.
Nothing could wound a soul as deep as loving when the inevitable result was loss.
And then the impossible task of trusting herself when she made so many mistakes with her heart.
“You don’t ever have to be afraid with me, love.” Tucking her under his chin, he whispered, “I know I’m not the man you hoped for. No title. I’m not civilized, not how you would prefer, and I know I drive you mad. I rushed it before, I pressured you—”
“I shouldn’t have said that,” she said in a rush. “I didn’t mean it—”
“You were right,” Seth spoke slowly. “I didn’t have anything to offer you, but I do now. Don’t be a colonel’s mistress… be a gentleman’s wife.” He paused. His eyes squeezed tight and his jaw trembled. “Lord Bolderwood is going to recognize me as his son tomorrow.”
“But you’re not.” Cassandra’s eyebrows furrowed and apprehension tugged at her.
To publicly acknowledge that he had a child out of wedlock would cause considerable damage to Lord Bolderwood’s reputation, especially this late in life, opening him to scorn, risking his influence and power within the aristocracy.
After having recommended Seth personally to the contest, it would prove the rumors of favoritism.
There would be an ocean of scandal.
“Seth… why would he do that?”
“I asked him to.” His hair shadowed his eyes. There was a flash of pain in his expression before he stifled it. The tremble in his bottom lip tensed with the rest of his body, and she knew exactly what he had done. What he promised her.
Whatever it takes.
“What is he asking for in return?”
“I’ll be working for him for the foreseeable future.
Cooper, too. In London. Lucrative, if Mr. Sanderson is right.
We signed a contract tonight.” His eyes shifted to hers.
“It’s complicated, but know that it’ll be enough.
You won’t have to worry about money, you won’t have to worry about anything. Not anymore.”
With her fingertips, Cassandra traced his hairline.
“You don’t want to work for Lord Bolderwood, or live in London.
What about the country? Seth, look at what this place has done to you, what he has done to you, why…
” Her heart broke with the knowledge of what it must have cost him. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I want to marry you,” he whispered.
Over her nightgown, Seth placed his hand over Cassandra’s heart.
“Your heart is safe with me, Cassandra,” he vowed.
“I would go through hell and back to give you everything you need. Be everything you need. I would place your happiness above my own, your life above my own. If you refuse me now, I’ll love you in agony for the rest of my days.
I would step aside, it would kill me, but I would do it if I knew that you would be happier with another man.
A better man.” Keeping his eyes trained on hers, he promised, “But I can be that man. Let me be the man to kiss you each morning, to hold you in a garden under moonlight. Who makes you laugh, frustrates you, worships you… who loves you with every breath.”
Taking a step from her, he lowered himself onto one knee. Candlelight flickered in his eyes, steady with the same intensity from that night, months ago. The look of a man that glimpsed heaven and now begged at its gate. “Cassandra Cooper, will you marry me?”
Love blossomed in her heart for this beautiful, wild soul. There was no doubt in Cassandra’s mind that Seth would make her happy, keep her comfortable, keep her safe, and love her. Her standards, lists, and rules flew to the wind as she stepped toward him.
“Yes, Seth. I will marry you.”
His smile lit the room when the words left her mouth.
Rising to his feet, he pressed his lips to hers, and she deepened their kiss, wanting to breathe him into her body and hold him in the space between her lungs, to intertwine with him so completely that nothing could tear them from each other.
This would be the last night they would have alone together for some time.
Life would come at them fast, but here, in the eye of their storm, she wanted to experience everything with him.
To join with him, to meld her soul with his. She didn’t want to wait another minute.
“Make love to me,” she whispered, loosening the buttons of her nightgown. Shame and regret fell from her with the cloth, down her arms and hips, leaving her bare before him. Her hair fell over her shoulders and breasts in waves, and the hunger in his eyes fed her desire.
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Then show me.” She removed his suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind him. Using her hold on his shirt, she brought his mouth down to hers.
“Sweetheart, I’ll hurt you,” he said, even as his hands ran along her ribs, thumbs brushing over the round curve of her breasts, inching them closer to the bed with every torturously slow kiss.
“I trust you.” She arched her body into his. Lips close to his ear, she whispered, “Seth, I want you.”
The rest of his resolve shattered, and he lifted her onto the bed, crawling over her to fit his mouth over hers once more.
Between them, Cassandra worked at Seth’s clothing, tugging at the buttons of his shirt with sure fingers, but before it could fall open, he caught her wrist and gently placed a kiss in the center of her palm.
“Wait.”
Seth left the bed and extinguished the oil lamps, leaving the room lit only by blue moonlight drifting in from the window.
There was a thud as one of his boots hit the floor, and then the other.
He undressed, silent except for a rustle of fabric as each garment fell to the floor.
When he finished, he pulled the strings of the canopy, sheltering them in total darkness.
Her fingers trailed through the air, following the dip in the bed. “I can’t see you.”
“It’s all right.” Laying down, he rolled her onto her side and kissed her tenderly. “Feel. Touch me, Cassandra.”
Tentatively, her fingertips grazed over his firm muscles, the coarse dusting of hair on his chest, and the raised and dimpled skin of his scars.
Her heart broke for him as she followed them across his back and down his arms. With her touch, she tried to show him he was safe with her, that he could be vulnerable with her.
Pressing her onto her back, Seth nipped at her throat.
He blazed a trail of open-mouthed kisses to the valley between her breasts, circled her navel, and dipped his tongue into the hollow of her hip.
Using the back of her knee, he hiked her leg over his shoulder.
She relaxed into the now familiar feel of his fingertip parting her.
A hum of approval came from him when she lifted and, without warning, his mouth closed over her sex, his tongue moving over that same sensitive peak.
“What are you—oh—doing?”
“Something wrong, apparently.” He pressed two fingers into her and she moaned.
“Better.” He lowered his mouth once more, tongue gliding as he stroked inside.
Heat rose within her with every deliberate slide of his tongue, so exquisite she covered her mouth to stifle her cries.
Deeper, insistent, he drove her. The slick scent of his rosemary pomade saturated her fingers as they slid through his hair, fingernails scraping against his scalp, and he groaned—a low vibration she could feel in her spine—and all she wanted was, “More.”
He gripped her and gave no quarter, setting an unrelenting pace.
Euphoria spread like fire in her veins, and as she climaxed, it was his name on her breath.
But he didn’t stop, and Cassandra forgot how to breathe entirely.
It was too much. As she tried to shrink from him, he held her still and ruthlessly pushed her through another orgasm with expert strokes of his tongue.
Gasping breaths left her as he rose and shifted his knees between hers.
Wrapping one arm around the small of her back, he lifted her to align the tip of his erection with the entrance of her body.
“I’ll be gentle with you,” he whispered, and pushed in. “So unbelievably gentle.”
Easing into her with shallow thrusts, he allowed her body to accept his, inch by inch.
Uncomfortably stretched, she tried to relax, but it was difficult, and it hurt.
Sucking a breath in through his teeth, Seth laced his fingers with hers.
He kissed her brow, her cheeks, and told her how well she was doing, how much she pleased him, how he loved her.
And she was glad it was him. His patient heart caring for her, giving more than taking, as was his nature.
And she loved him. The words choked behind gasps and cries and broken sighs.
At a point where he could go no further, Seth paused.
Sensing his hesitation, his unwillingness to hurt her, Cassandra lifted, surrendering herself.
And it was her turn to encourage him, whispering that she trusted him, she wanted him, only ever him, and with steady thrusts and a flash of pain, he was fully inside of her.
Sweat dripped from his brow as he waited, tense with restraint. Equally vulnerable with each other, Cassandra understood why it was called making love. Their bond rooted deeper within them as they joined. As he moved, she whispered, “You’re mine.”
“Yes… yes, love.” Rolling his hips, he kissed her with bruising force. His thumb circled the peak of her sex and he pushed forward. Soreness replaced the pain as her body adjusted to him. She hooked her leg over his hip, pulling him closer and—
“There.” She gasped as he moved again. “Yes, there.” She lifted as he came down, swept away. She couldn’t get close enough, feel enough, and have enough of him.
“One more,” he begged. “Give me one more, sweetheart... I need to know how it feels...” He traced her with roughening hands, and his thrusts became purposeful, deeper, harder, and as she tumbled over the edge, pulsing around him, the world outside of the room ceased to exist, and all that remained was the intimacy of her soul binding to his.
Seth growled and crashed his mouth to hers, and then, with a sound akin to pain, he abruptly withdrew from her and spilled onto her stomach.
He rolled off her and dropped to his back, breathing ragged. Cassandra’s chest heaved. Sweat-slick hair clung to her brow and neck. Every muscle was now useless, and her core ached. She touched her abdomen and cringed. “Seth?”
With a grunt, he sat up. “Stay right there.”
As if she could move. She would have laughed had she the energy to do so.
Seth stood, padded across the room to the washstand.
He poured water from a pitcher over a washcloth and returned to her.
Easing her legs apart, he ran the washcloth along the inside of her thighs, the cool water soothing the sting.
As he cleaned her navel, she made a face that he couldn’t see, and likely wouldn’t appreciate.
“Does that happen every time?”
“Ah. Yes. And no, not like that. I’m sorry.” He chuckled, not sounding the least bit remorseful. “I didn’t want to give you a baby.”
“Oh.” She hummed. That hardly seemed like something to be sorry about, but then… The idea of a baby with Seth warmed her more than their lovemaking, filling her with an acute sense of hope. One day, once their lives settled, of course she would want his children, but, “Not yet.”
“Not yet,” he affirmed, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “I want to do at least one thing right.” Finished, he tossed the washcloth to the floor, climbed back into the bed, pulled the blanket around her shoulders, and held her close. “Did I hurt you?”
“A little,” she admitted, the dull throbbing inside of her beat in a tempo that matched Seth’s heartbeat beneath her ear.
“It won’t be like that next time. It’ll be better for you,” he promised. Twirling a lock of her hair around his finger, he teased, “You’ll be surprised at how much you’ll like it. With as insatiable as you are, I genuinely worry about my safety once I’m trapped in a house with you.”
“I’m too tired to take your bait right now.” She ran her hand over his chest. Sleep tugging her eyelids, she murmured, “Did I please you?”
“My God, Cassandra. That was—” He laughed.
“Yes, you pleased me. I wish I could stay forever in this bed and have you please me more.” Running his fingers through her hair, Seth kissed her, lulling her with affections she was reluctant to part from.
This night would not come again, and in the morning, he would be gone.
As he sat up to leave, she tugged him back down to her.
“Don’t go yet. Hold me a little while longer.”
“Not much longer.” His laugh came deep from his chest and he laid back down. Cradling her in his arms, he whispered, “My demanding little wife.”
Wife.
Mrs. Reeves.
Yes, she thought, drifting off to sleep with a smile.
She liked the sound of that.