She loved the feel of him inside her.
She loved the scent of his hot, damp skin.
He let out another animal growl, and with one last shuddering heave, collapsed atop her.
The full weight of his big, handsome body came to rest on her. She held onto his shoulders, desperate to cling to him for as long as possible. She wanted to hold on to their journey, for it might be their last. She might never experience this perfect joy again. This was Ian, the man who wouldn’t give his heart to anyone. Would he leave her now that he’d satisfied his curiosity?
Oh, she knew that he would marry her. But did he truly want her?
Ian took another moment to recover his strength, then eased onto his elbows and cast her a tender smile. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”
She laughed. “Womanly.”
He kissed her lightly on the nose as he pulled out of her, and then his gaze suddenly turned serious. “How about wifely?”
“As in, will I stop being an idiot and marry you now?”
He rolled her atop him. “Something like that, except I’m the idiot. You’re perfect.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Although her tone was light, she felt overwhelmed and confused. She wanted him. He was determined to marry her. He simply didn’t love her. “Ian, let me sleep on it. You know this isn’t about me. I want to be your wife. Now that I know what happens in the marriage bed, I want it more than ever. Our mating was quite spectacular, but you knew it would be. You’re confident in your prowess.”
He groaned. “Our mating? My prowess? Now you sound like Lily when she lectures about her baboons.”
She laughed again. “I don’t know what else to call it.”
“How about lovemaking?”
“Love.” She nodded. “That’s how I felt when I was in your arms and you were inside me. I felt safe. Protected. Loved. I suppose it’s the right thing to call it, because I did feel all those things. You made me feel wonderful. What about you, Ian? What did you feel?”
He put his arms around her and kissed her on the nose again. “I’m feeling desperately hungry. How about you, Daffy? Care for some more broth?”
“Only enough to dump over your head.” However, she wasn’t really angry with Ian for changing the subject and making a jest of something so important. And calling her Daffy again. He was purposely shutting her out. She’d chipped at the walls surrounding his heart and he didn’t like it. This was his Ian-back-in-hiding response.
She knew that he wasn’t trying to hurt her. He would marry her. Out of a sense of duty, of course. Yet, sometimes he looked at her in a loving way. Even now, he was holding her in his arms and seemed in no hurry to let her go.
When he finally did ease away and rose from the bed, she shook her head and sighed. His lean, golden body was now on glorious display, but so were his scars. The raw, ugly one across his stomach was most prominent. “I’ll scrounge up something for us to eat. I’m famished. How about you?”
“Ravenous. You had better be quick about it, Your Grace, or I’ll take a bite out of your firm, golden buns.”
***
Ian awoke the next morning to the sounds of servants stirring downstairs. He glanced at Dillie, who was curled up against his body, her arm thrown across his chest and one leg wedged between both of his.
She looked innocent as a kitten, a sleeping kitten with long, dark hair that cascaded over the pillows in a splendid, silky waterfall. And she was naked. Gloriously so. He skimmed his hand along the length of her arm. Her skin was pink and felt warm.
“You’re beautiful, sweetheart,” he said in a whisper, kissing her on the cheek. He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could manage and crossed to the hearth to add more logs to the fire that had died out sometime during the night. The shutters were closed, but he could hear the icy rain still pelting the slats without letup. He and Dillie would be trapped here at least another day.
He glanced upward. Thank you. Another day with Dillie would be heaven.
He glanced back at her luscious, sleeping form. A sudden thought struck him. He’d slept last night. At least five hours straight between the last time he’d... with Dillie... and then he’d fallen asleep and not stirred until now. No nightmares to jolt him awake. No terrors to leave him in a sweat and gasping for breath.
The logical explanation was that he’d simply been bone weary last night. After all, he’d traveled all day in a miserable rain that had turned hard and icy, and then carried Abner from the overturned carriage back to the inn. The long day and foul weather would have been enough to make any man weary.
He knew that his tortured dreams would return tonight. He’d been spared only the one night. That was the logical explanation.