“And yet there was a time when Lady Isabel dreamed of becoming a wife,” he said, his voice light, teasing. Precisely what she needed it to be.
She smiled, meeting his blue eyes. “I suppose so. Of course”—her tone turned impish—“she certainly never expected to marry one of London’s most eligible bachelors. She was lucky, indeed, to secure such an eminently landable lord.”
His brows shot up at the words, his jaw dropping in surprise, and she dissolved into giggles at the picture he made, so comical and clownish.
“You knew!”
She placed a hand dramatically to her breast. “My lord, how could you have imagined that there was a woman in this great land who did not know? Why, we need not have a subscription to Pearls and Pelisses to recognize such a “—she paused with great emphasis—“paragon of manhood … when we see one.”
He scowled at the silly description. “You think you are very funny, Lady Nicholas.”
She grinned. “I know I am exceedingly funny, Lord Nicholas.”
He laughed and reached out to brush away an auburn curl that had come loose in the wind and landed against her cheek. When the task was completed, their laughter died, and with the barest of pauses he continued the caress, cupping the back of her head in his large hand and pulling her toward him, kissing her thoroughly on her warm, smiling lips. The kiss was deep and thoughtful, sending a river of pleasure straight to the core of her. She sighed into his mouth, and he moved to settle little, soft kisses on her cheek, the tip of her nose, and her forehead before pulling back.
“So you thought you might land me,” he teased.
She shook her head with a laugh. “No. The girls thought I might land you. They urged me to use the lessons from the magazine to do so.” She smiled at his groan of disbelief. “Needless to say, I was never very good at following instructions.”
He chuckled. “And so? What was your plan?”
“I thought I might land your expertise in antiquities.”
“Well … you seem to have received more than you had bargained for.”
She made a show of considering him with a critical eye. “Indeed, it seems I have.”
He barked in laughter. “Minx.”
She laughed, too, and he left the window then. She leaned through to watch him make his way to a nearby entryway, her heart quickening as she realized that he was coming to be closer to her. Wanting to retain her illusion of calm, she hopped up to sit on the low sill, waiting for him to come to her. Excitement pooled in her belly as he approached, carefully navigating the stones that littered the inside of the keep, his blue eyes trained on her.
The magazine had been right. He was a remarkable specimen of a man.
And he was her husband.
The thought rocked her to her core.
He did not stop a discreet distance from her, instead coming as close as he could, his legs brushing her skirts, his body blocking the sun from her face. He lifted his hand, running the backs of his fingers along her cheek, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His eyes roamed over her face, and there was something there that she could not identify.
“What are you thinking?”
Were they at any other moment in their time together, she would not have asked … but they were here, in this magical place, the rest of the world and the rest of their lives far away. Today, they were simply husband and wife.
As if there were anything simple about it.
His gaze found hers, and her pulse raced as she recognized the passion there. She held her breath, waiting for his answer.
“I am thinking that you are the most magnificent woman I have ever known.”
Her jaw went slack at the words, so unexpected, and he pressed on, his hands cradling her face. “You are strong and beautiful and brilliant, and so passionate—it makes me ache to be near you.” He placed his forehead to hers as he continued, “I don’t know how it happened … but I seem to have fallen quite impossibly in love with you.”
The words rendered Isabel speechless.
Was it possible that such a thing could be true?
He loved her.
The words echoed in her mind, making it impossible to think of anything else.
And then he was kissing her. And she could not think at all.
Professing his love to Isabel had unlocked something raw and powerful in Nick, and without removing his lips from hers, he lifted her from the low stone wall to move to a patch of soft green grass in a small square footprint of the keep. They stood there for a long while, their mouths and hands exploring, and Nick was keenly aware of the difference this moment had from all others … of the powerful, heady nature of making love to his wife.
To a woman he so thoroughly loved.
When her hands fell to the buttons of his coat and his waistcoat, Nick tore his mouth from hers, gasping for breath as she searched for skin. He shucked his layers as they kissed madly and Isabel tugged on his shirt, making space for her hands to explore the wide, warm expanse of skin beneath the linen. The feel of her fingers against him was torture, and he broke the kiss, pulling the shirt over his head and letting it flutter on the wind to land outside the walls of their sanctuary.
He reached for her, eager to resume their kiss, but she danced away from his grasp, eyes locked on his chest. “No,” she said, her voice filled with a feminine power that made him ache to have her, “I want to see you.”
She came closer, blocking his hands from pulling her to him, instead running her palms over his chest and down his arms. “You’re so broad … so bronzed … how does that happen? ”