Luck Is No Lady(108)

Emma sighed. Just the sound of the word filled her with warmth and love. She slid her hands around his neck and rose up on her toes, delighting in the friction of her breasts brushing heavily against his hard chest. Bringing her mouth a breath away from his, she looked into his eyes and whispered, “I would like nothing more than to be your wife. Now, will you kiss me?”

And he did.

His tongue plunged fiercely past her teeth as his arms wrapped around her to hold her close. The kiss was deep and needful and passionate, fulfilling every corner of emotional yearning Emma held inside.

And finally, after the kiss shifted to gentle nips and languid strokes, Roderick drew back just enough to say quietly, “You let me win, didn’t you?”

Emma nodded. “Are you angry?”

He tightened his arms around her. “How could I be when it got me exactly what I wanted? Besides, I let you win the first time we played.”

She drew back in surprise. “You did not.”

“Of course I did. You have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss your lovely mouth that day.”

Emma smiled. “Oh, I have some idea,” she replied as she drew his lips back to hers.





Epilogue


“What is worrying you?” Roderick asked. His voice was a low murmur in the quiet darkness of their bedroom.

Emma curved her lips in a dreamy little smile. He was getting rather good at reading the subtle clues to her emotions.

It was late and the house had long been still.

Emma loved this time of night when it was just the two of them. When they weren’t making love they would sometimes talk for hours, or hold each other in gentle silence. Roderick had purchased the house as a wedding gift for her, and they had been living there since the first night of their marriage. The house was close to Angelique’s, yet not terribly far from the club, and it felt like home the moment Emma was carried over the threshold.

Roderick no longer stayed at the club until it closed, having handed over a significant amount of responsibility to Metcalf and Bishop, but he still had trouble getting to sleep at a normal hour. So the late hours of night and the earliest hours of morning had become their time.

They lay facing each other in bed, naked but for the sheet draping over their still-entwined legs. Emma had both hands tucked beneath her head, while Roderick rested on his elbow, his head propped up on his hand. The fingertips of his other hand traced swirling designs along the slope of her waist and hip, keeping her skin sensitive and her body attuned to his touch.

After months of marriage they had both gotten comfortable with the subtleties that existed in living so closely with someone. Not only in the physical realm, but in other ways, such as how Roderick was learning to recognize many of Emma’s shifts in mood. He seemed able to sense when her emotions dipped or her thoughts became preoccupied. And he, better than anyone had ever been able to, helped her to keep such things in perspective.

He had a way of presenting another angle from which to look at problems and worries. Emma was learning so much from him. And about him. The kindness she had always seen in him was so completely ingrained to his person, as was his near-selfless generosity. She saw how injustice fired his anger, and adored that he fought to reverse wrongs whenever he could.

And when he looked at her, whether from across the dinner table or across their bed, she felt love so sure and strong it amazed her.

“Is it your sisters?” he prompted.

Emma sighed. “Of course I support them completely, but I cannot help but wonder if they have made the right choices.”

He said nothing, just continued the slow, lazy circling of his fingers over her skin.

“Portia has always craved a life beyond the mundane. She adores excitement,” Emma explained, meeting Roderick’s attentive gaze. “But I cannot imagine why she would want to involve herself in something so dangerous. It terrifies me.”

He nodded in understanding. “She is not alone.”

“I know, and I trust him. It is just not the same as being able to watch over her myself.”

Smiling, he leaned forward to press a light kiss to the tip of her nose before righting himself back on his propped elbow. His smile was warm and only slightly amused. “I suspect your little sister is far more skilled than any of us know.”

Emma smiled in return. “You are likely right. And she is obviously happy. So is Lily, for that matter. It is just that she has such a tender heart and he is…well…”

Roderick’s deep chuckle pulled her out of her worrisome thoughts.

“I am sorry. I am being ridiculous. They are both grown women, capable of living their lives without my constant interference.” She slid her foot along his leg in a casual caress. “I hope I can come to terms with that sooner rather than later.”