Chapter 11 #2
Tamsin searched his face, her gaze probing his as she looked for signs that she could trust him. Whatever she found seemed to satisfy her. She leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“I think that I would like to have that drink,” she whispered. “I am not ready for this evening to end, either.”
The fact that she hadn’t dismissed his request out of hand heightened his arousal almost unbearably, but he knew not to get his hopes up too high.
She wasn’t ready yet, and he didn’t want to press her too far.
If he wanted her to trust him, to give herself willingly, he needed to give her the time she needed.
All she’d asked of him was patience, and he would grant her that, even if it killed him.
Rowan stood, lifting her easily as he rose before setting her on her feet. He kept his arm around her waist as they left the library and began the long walk up the stairs toward their private rooms.
The door to Tamsin’s bedchamber clicked shut behind them, so loud in the silence that Tamsin jumped a little.
The room was bathed in the flickering amber of a dying fire, the shadows stretching long across the soft rug.
Tamsin’s heart felt as though it were a bird trapped in the cage of her ribs, fluttering with a frantic, rhythmic energy.
He’d said he wanted to take things further, and she had absolutely no idea what he meant by that.
“Wine,” she murmured, more to fill the silence than out of thirst. Her hands trembled slightly as she poured two glasses from the decanter on the sideboard. “I think we both might need it.”
Rowan didn’t take his glass immediately.
Instead, he went and removed the cushions from the settee and tossed them on the rug in front of the hearth.
Then he moved to the bed, gathering an armful of satin pillows and a heavy velvet throw.
He used them to create a makeshift nest. It looked so comfortable and cozy that Tamsin felt a sharp knot of tension suddenly loosen in her chest. She wasn’t quite ready to invite him into her bed, but somehow, joining him on the floor before the fire didn’t seem quite so intimidating.
She lowered herself beside him, leaning back against the cushions. They sat in silence for a time, the wine warming her throat and the fire warming her face.
“Rowan,” she said, her voice gaining strength as the silence grew comfortable. “I find I am still full of questions. About your life before you became my husband. About... what comes next.”
He glanced at her, holding her gaze for a moment before looking back into the flames. “Ask whatever you wish, Tamsin. I promised you honesty.”
“Do you truly believe you can be happy with one person?” she asked, her voice a mere whisper. “After years of... variety? What is it you want from me in this regard?”
“What a novel thought… to think that I could be happy.” Rowan turned his head once again to look at her, and the firelight caught the raw, unvarnished truth in his eyes. “It’s such a foreign concept that I’ve never even aspired to it.”
“Oh, Rowan,” she breathed, cupping his face tenderly. “Isn’t there anything that would make you happy?”
He nuzzled against her hand, closing his eyes for a moment, and once again, she could tell he was really thinking about his answer.
“I want someone to want me,” he said at last, the words sounding as though they had been pulled from deep within him.
“I have been wanted for my title, my money, and the thrill of a scandal. I want a woman who wants me. Who cares for me, Rowan Blackwood, not for the Earl of Haversham. I want to wake up and know that the person beside me is there because she truly wants to be.”
Tamsin felt a surge of tenderness that almost brought tears to her eyes. It was the most honest and vulnerable thing she had ever heard a man say.
“Do you want to wake up beside me?” she asked hesitantly. “I wasn’t certain… We have separate rooms, after all. I didn’t expect that you would… sleep beside me.”
He gave a gruff laugh. “I’ve never spent an entire night with a woman,” he admitted. “I’m not really certain where that thought came from, but yes… I think I would like that. To wake up beside you.”
She leaned forward, closing the distance between them, and pressed her lips to his.
They kissed for a long time, a sweet exploration that made something tighten in the pit of Tamsin’s stomach and a sweet ache start somewhere deep inside her. She wanted to get closer to him, wanted to feel his bare skin against hers.
Before she could take matters into her own hands, Rowan pulled back slightly, his breathing uneven. “Do you trust me?” he whispered. “Do you trust me enough to let me go a little further tonight?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, Rowan, please.”
He groaned and pressed another quick kiss to her lips. “I love hearing you say my name,” he murmured. “I think it might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Rowan,” she said again with a smile. “Rowan, Rowan, Rowan.”
His hands found the silk of her bodice, his touch reverent.
He moved slowly, his eyes never leaving hers as he eased the sleeves of her gown down her shoulders, then pushed down her chemise so that her breasts were bare.
When the fabric pooled at her waist, Tamsin felt the cool air of the room for a fleeting second before the heat of his gaze replaced it.
He leaned in, his mouth warm as he trailed kisses along her collarbone, eventually moving lower to her breasts.
Tamsin gasped as his lips closed gently over her nipple, her fingers tangling in his dark hair.
The sensation was overwhelming—a sharp, electric jolt of pleasure that made her toes curl.
She loved it, loved the weight of him and the way he worshipped her skin, but as his hand settled on her thigh, panic surged within her.
“Rowan,” she whispered, her hand catching his wrist. “Wait. Please. I... I think I need to stop.”
He stilled instantly. There was no hesitation, no groan of frustration, no attempt to coax her further.
He simply drew back, his breathing ragged but his eyes clear and focused.
He reached for the velvet throw and pulled it up to cover her, tucking it around her shoulders as if she were a precious, fragile thing.
“It’s all right,” he said, his voice a low, soothing hum. He stayed where he was, not moving away but not pressing closer. “I told you, Tamsin. I am not going anywhere. There’s no rush. We have the rest of our lives.”
She looked at him, seeing the undeniable tension in his jaw and the way his hands were clenched around the blanket.
He wanted her badly, yet he was staying perfectly still because she had asked him to.
In that moment, the last of the fear she had carried regarding their physical relationship evaporated.
He wasn’t going to force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. She knew that for certain now.
“Thank you,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder.
“Don’t thank me for being a man of my word,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. “I find I rather like being a man you can trust, Tamsin.”
He seemed in no hurry to leave her, so she snuggled even closer to him, loving it when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her close. “Rest now,” he whispered. “I’ll carry you to bed if you fall asleep. I just want to hold you for a while.”
Staring into the flames, she did just that.
Rowan smiled when Tamsin let out a little snore beside him.
Though arousal still raged within him, he found that holding Tamsin while she slept was one of the sweetest things he’d ever known.
The fact that she trusted him enough to do so, so soon into their relationship, gave him a sense of pride that he hadn’t felt in far too long.
He brushed a strand of black hair from her forehead, shifting a bit to provide some relief to his aching erection. It would have been lovely to make love to her tonight, but he’d made love thousands of times. What he’d never had before was this: an evening spent just enjoying a woman’s company.
And the lovemaking would come. She had enjoyed his touches tonight; he was certain of it.
She wasn’t frigid, terrified, or disinterested.
In fact, she seemed captivated. She just needed a little more time, and he was more than willing to give that to her.
When they finally did consummate their marriage, he wanted her to want it just as much as he did.
He rested his left hand on his aching member, shifting himself again and letting out a pained breath. It would be worth the wait.
He lay in the cozy little bed he’d made for them until the fire guttered out into ashes, then finally eased away from her and stood. He stretched, glad his arousal had finally dissipated, then reached down and picked her up tenderly.
One day soon, he would wake up in Tamsin’s bed, and he thought he would indeed enjoy that very much.
Carrying her across the room, he tucked her into bed, then leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Good night, wife,” he whispered. “Sleep well.”