"Will we have a cottage like this someday?" she murmured.
Being Merripen, he had already come up with a plan. "We'll live at Ramsay House for a year, more likely two, until the restoration is complete and Leo is on his feet. Then I'll find a suitable property for a farm, and build a house for you. A bit larger than this, I expect." His hand slid to her bottom, rubbing in slow circles. "It won't be an extravagant life, but it will be comfortable. You'll have a cookmaid and a footman and a driver. And we'll live near your family, so you can see them whenever you like."
"That sounds lovely," Win managed to say, so filled with happiness she could scarcely breathe. "It will be heaven." She had no doubt of his ability to take care of her, nor did she doubt that she could make him happy. They would create a good life together, though she was fairly certain it would not be an ordinary one.
His tone was sober. "If you marry me, you'll never be a lady of position."
"There is no better position for me than being your wife."
One of his big hands clasped over her skull, pressing her head against his shoulder. "I've always wanted more for you than this."
"Liar," she whispered. "You always wanted me for yourself."
Laughter stirred in his chest. "Yes," he admitted.
They were quiet then, relishing the sensation of lying together in the morning-filled room. They had been close in so many ways before this… They had known each other so well… and yet not at all. Physical intimacy had created a new dimension to Win's feelings, as if she had taken not only his body inside hers, but also a part of his soul. She wondered how it was that people could engage in this act without love, how empty and pointless it must be by comparison.
Her bare foot explored the hairy surface of his leg, toes nudging against hard-sculpted muscle. "Did you think about me when you were with them?" she asked tentatively. "Who?"
"The women you slept with."
She knew from the way Merripen tensed that he didn't like the question. His reply was low and guilt-roughened. "No. I didn't think about anything when I was with them."
Win let her hand wander over his smooth chest, finding the small brown nipples, teasing them into points. Rising on her elbow, she said frankly, "When I imagine you doing this with someone else, I can hardly bear it."
His hand came over hers, securing it against his strong heartbeat. "They meant nothing to me. It was always a transaction. Something to be done with as quickly as possible."
"I think that makes it even worse. To use a woman in that way, with no feeling…"
"They were well compensated," he said sardonically. "And always willing."
"You should have found someone you cared for, someone who cared for you. That would have been infinitely better than a loveless transaction."
"I couldn't."
"Couldn't what?"
"Care about anyone else. You took up too much room in my heart."
Win wondered what it said about her terrible selfishness that such an answer moved and pleased her.
"After you left," Merripen said, "I thought I would go mad. There was no place I could go to feel better. No person I wanted to be with. I wanted you to get well-I would have given my life for it. But at the same time I hated you for leaving. I hated everything. My own heart for beating. I had only one reason to live, and that was to see you again."
Win was touched by the severe simplicity of his declaration. He was a force, she thought. One couldn't subdue him any more than one could settle a lightning storm. He would love her as intemperately as he pleased, and devil take the hindmost.
"Did the women help?" she asked softly. "Did it ease you to lie with them?"
He shook his head. "It made it worse," came his soft reply. "Because they weren't you."
Win leaned farther over him, her hair falling in glinting light ribbons that went across his chest and throat and arms. She stared into eyes as black as sloe. "I want us to be faithful to each other," she said gravely. "From this day forward."
There was a brief silence, a hesitation born not of doubt, but awareness. As if their vows were being heard and witnessed by some unseen presence.
Merripen's chest rose and fell in a long, deep breath. "I'll be faithful to you," he said. "Forever."
"So will I."
"Promise also that you'll never leave me again."
Win lifted her hand from the center of his chest and pressed a kiss there. "I promise."
She was entirely willing, eager, to seal their vows then, but he wouldn't. He wanted her to rest, her body to have respite, and when she objected, he quieted her with gentle kisses. "Sleep," he whispered, and she obeyed, sinking into the sweetest, darkest oblivion she had ever known.
Daylight canted impatiently against the unlined curtains at the windows, turning them into bright butter-colored rectangles. Kev had held Win for hours. He had not slept at all in that time. The pleasure of staring at her eclipsed the need for rest. There had been other times in his life when he had watched over her like this, especially when she'd been ill. But it was different now that she belonged to him.
He had always been consumed with miserable longing, loving Win and knowing nothing would ever come of it. Now, holding her, he felt something unfamiliar, a bloom of euphoric heat. He let himself kiss her, unable to resist following the glinting arc of her eyebrow with his lips. He moved on to the rosy curve of her cheek. The tip of a nose so adorable that it seemed worthy of an entire sonnet. He loved every part of her. It occurred to him that he had not yet kissed the spaces between her toes, an omission that desperately needed to be corrected.
Win slept with one of her legs hitched over him, her knee tucked between his. Feeling the intimate brush of blond curls against his hip, he went erect, his flesh alive with a hard, precise throbbing he could feel against the linen sheet that covered him.
She stirred and moved her limbs in a trembling stretch, and her eyes half-opened. He sensed her surprise at waking in his arms this way, and the slow dawning of satisfaction as she remembered what had gone before. Her hands crept over him, exploring softly. He was taut everywhere, aroused and unmov-ing, letting her discover him as she wished.
Win reconnoitered his body with an innocent abandon that seduced him utterly. Her lips brushed the taut skin of his chest and side. Finding the edge of his lowest rib, she gnawed gently, like a fastidious little cannibal. One of her hands trailed over his thigh and wandered up to his groin.
He said her name between fragmented breaths, reaching down to those tormenting fingers. But she swatted his hand away with an audible crack of skin against skin. And that aroused him beyond reason.
Win cupped the mass of him below, the shifting weights heavy against her palm. She squeezed, gently rolled the roundness, while he set his teeth and endured her touch as if he were being drawn and quartered.
Moving upward, she gripped the shaft lightly-too lightly. Kev would have begged her to do it harder had he been able to spare the breath. But he could only wait, gasping. Her head bent over him, her golden hair trapping him in a glimmering net. Despite his will to remain still, he couldn't stop the vicious twitch of his cock, the length of it jutting upward. To his shock, he felt her lean down to kiss him. And she continued, working upward along the stiff shaft, while he groaned with pleasure and disbelief.
Her beautiful mouth on him… he was dying, losing his sanity. She was too inexperienced to know how to proceed. She didn't take him deep, only licked the tip as he had done to her before. But holy Christ, it was enough for now. Kev let out an anguished groan as he felt a sweet, wet tug and heard the sound of her suckling. Muttering a garbled mixture of Romany and English, he seized her h*ps and dragged them upward. He buried his face in her, his tongue working voraciously until she writhed like a captured mermaid.
Tasting her arousal, he sank his tongue deep, again and again. Her legs stiffened, as if she were about to come. But he had to be inside her when it happened, had to feel her grip and clench around him. So he toppled her carefully and eased her to her front, and pushed a pillow beneath her hips.
She moaned and parted her knees wider. Needing no further invitation, he positioned himself, his c**k slick with the moisture from her mouth. Reaching beneath her, he found the tiny swollen bud, and he massaged slowly while he fed his shaft into her, his fingers stroking faster with every hard inch that pushed forward, and when he had finally buried his full length, she cl**axed with a sobbing cry.
Kev could have found his own release then, but he had to prolong it. If it were possible, he would have gone on forever. He drew one hand along the pale, elegant curve of her back. She arched into the caress, sighing his name. He lay over her, changing the angle between them, still cupping her sex as he thrust. She shuddered as a few more spasms were teased out, passion splotches rising on her shoulders and back. He put his mouth to the patches of color, kissing every blushing place as he rocked slowly, working deeper in her, tighter, until he finally went still and came with violent spurts.
Rolling off her, Kev gathered Win against his ribs and struggled to catch his breath. His heartbeat hammered in his ears for some minutes, which was why he was slow to notice a knock at the door.
Win reached up to his cheeks and guided his face to hers. Her eyes were round. "Someone's here," she said.
Chapter Nineteen
Cursing beneath his breath, Kev dragged on his trousers and shirt and went barefoot to the door. Opening it, he saw Cam Rohan standing there nonchalantly, a valise in one hand and a covered basket in the other.
"Hello." Cam 's hazel eyes danced with mischief. "I've brought you a few things."
"How did you find us?" Kev asked without heat.
"I knew you hadn't gone far. None of your clothes were missing, nor any bags or trunks. And since the front gatehouse was too obvious, this was the next place I thought of. Aren't you going to invite me in?"
"No," Kev said shortly, and Cam grinned.
"If our positions were reversed, phral, I suppose I'd be just as inhospitable. There's food in the basket, and clothes for both of you in the valise."
"Thank you." Kev took the items and set them just inside the door. Straightening, he looked at his brother, searching for any sign of censure. There was none.
"Ov yilo isi?" Cam asked.
It was an old Romany phrase, meaning "Is all well here?" But it was literally translated as "Is there heart here?" which seemed rather appropriate.
"Yes," Kev said softly.
"There is nothing you need?"
"For the first time in my life," Kev admitted, "there is nothing I need."
Cam smiled. "Good." Nonchalantly tucking his hands in his coat pockets, he braced a shoulder against the door frame.
"What is the situation at Ramsay House?" Kev asked, half-dreading the answer.
"There were a few moments of chaos this morning, when it was discovered that you were both gone." A diplomatic pause. " Harrow 's been insisting that Win was taken against her will. At one point he threatened to go to the parish constable. Harrow says if you don't return with Win by nightfall, he'll take drastic action."
"What would that be?" Kev inquired darkly.
"I don't know. But you might give a thought to the rest of us having to stay at Ramsay House with him while you're out here with his fiancée."
"She's my fiancée now. And I'll bring her back when I damn well please."
"Understood." Cam 's lips twitched. "You intend to marry her soon, I hope?"
"Not soon," Kev said. "Immediately."
"Thank God. Even for the Hathaways, this is all a bit untoward." Cam glanced over Merripen's disheveled form and smiled. "It's good to see you at ease finally, Merripen. If it were anyone but you, I'd say you actually looked happy."
It was not easy to shed the habit of privacy. But Kev was actually tempted to confide in his brother, things he wasn't even certain he had words for. Such as the discovery that the love of a woman could make the entire world seem new. Or his wonder that Win, who had always seemed so fragile and in need of protection, had emerged as an even stronger presence than he.
"Rohan," he asked quietly, to keep Win from overhearing, "I have a question…"
"Yes?"
"Do you conduct your marriage the way of the gadje or the Rom?"
"Mostly the way of the gadje," Rohan said without hesitation. "It wouldn't work otherwise. Amelia is hardly the kind of woman who could be treated as a subordinate. But as a Rom, I will always reserve the right to protect and look after her as I see fit." He smiled slightly. "You will find a middle way, just as we have."
Kev scrubbed his hand through his hair and asked guardedly, "Are the Hathaways angry about what I've done?"
"You mean carrying Win off?" "Yes."
"The only complaint I heard was that you took far too long."
"Do any of them know where we are?"
"Not that I'm aware of." Cam 's smile turned wry. "I can buy you a few more hours, phral. But have her back by nightfall, if for no other reason than to shut Harrow up." He frowned slightly. "He's an odd one, that gadjo r
Kev gave him an alert glance. "Why do you say that?"
Cam shrugged. "Most men in his position would have done something, anything, by now. Destroyed some furniture. Gone for someone's throat. By this time, I would have turned all of Hampshire upside down to find my woman. But Harrow only talks. And talks."
"About what?"
"He's said quite a lot about what his rights are, what he's entitled to, his sense of betrayal… but so far it hasn't occurred to him to express any concern about Win's welfare, or consider what she wants. Overall, he acts like a child whose toy has been taken from him and who wants it to be given back." Cam grimaced. "Damned embarrassing, even for a gadjo." He raised his voice and called to the unseen Win, "I'm leaving now. Good day, little sister."
"And to you, Mr. Rohan!" her cheerful voice floated back.
They unpacked a feast from the basket: cold roast fowl, a variety of salads, fruit, and thick slices of seedcake. After devouring the lot, they sat before the hearth on a quilt. Dressed only in Kev's shirt, Win sat between his thighs while he brushed the tangles from her hair. He ran his fingers repeatedly through the length of silk, which gleamed like moonlight in his hands.