The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2(337)

She kissed him on the lips so tenderly he wept anew with the beauty of it all. God, how the fates above had blessed him. He had never known such joy and happiness.



It was evident from looking at her eyes that she loved him. He wasn't sure how it had come to pass, but she did. He didn't care if she could never recall the past. Their love had endured despite her loss of memory. They would just build a new life together, as he had said, one day and night at a time.



He lifted her off him carefully, cleaned them both, and returned to the bed. She put her hand on him, and he felt himself go rigid immediately.



He didn't dare risk it again, but he could tease her as he had once done. Soon she was writhing under his hands, and begging him to take her once more.



"Why not!" she pleaded when he steadfastly refused despite her orgasm growing in intensity, wave after wave of pure molten pleasure.



"Because I don't want to hurt you."



"I'm going to die of disappointment if you don't love me again."



He tied on another prophylactic, prepared to surrender to her will, but when she asked him to make love on top of her he quailed. "I'm so big, so heavy."



"It will be fine."



"I don't think-"



"Stop thinking. You're being a doctor again. Be my husband."



"I love you so much, Arabella, I can't stop being either. Tell me if-"



She pulled him into her and he uttered a strange choking sound.



She uttered a gasp and kissed him, and finally he was deeply inside her. She clasped his buttocks and rode the crest of their passion, crying out in pure joy as he exploded into her with a groan of relief and knew true peace and love at last.



Arabella and Blake knew genuine bliss for a fortnight. She had never appeared happier, she had seemingly healed, and she had no more memories return of any sort, disturbing or otherwise. It was the greatest joy Blake had ever known. It was so foreign to him, that his mind worried at first like a dog with a bone, picking it all over in every minute detail.



But then he remembered what she had said—to be her husband, not a doctor. So he forced himself to be optimistic, and after a time he allowed himself to enjoy their love for what it was, a gift from the gods, without questioning it or fearing it.



Inevitably, though, the real world intruded for them when Arabella suggested that they really ought to go to Jerome Manor, visit, and head back to London.



A letter from Horse Guards also arrived that afternoon to request his presence on the first of May to discuss his future.



"Drat and blast," he sighed, and had handed his wife the letter.



She had hugged her to him by way of consolation, but one thing had led to another. They had made love all afternoon as a storm had broken over the town, drenching Bath in cool April showers



They lay in bed in the twilight, listening to the rain patter on the roof. "Now I don't feel so guilty about dragging you into bed."



"Guilty, love? Never." He wrapped his arms around her tightly. "We need to make the most of this while we can."



She peeped up at him with a small smile. "Do you suppose we'll always be like this?"



"I certainly hope so. I can't think of anything I enjoy more than snuggling up with you, seeing your eyes gaze up at me with such love."



She stroked her hand down him intimately. "I enjoy all that too, but the lovemaking part is so magnificent, I can't--"



"I can't either," he said.



She reached for a protector and tied it on with by now skilled hands. He made love to her until she could barely even say his name, and he felt as though every part of their bodies had been fused into one blissful whole, a miraculous oneness with no beginning and end.



When they had finished and were once again sleepily in each other's arms, she said, "You know what I'm going to say."



"Then the answer is yes. I can't live my life being frightened all the time. I've spent too many years doing that, ever since I found out about my mother and sister."



She sat up and kissed him, and began to swing her long legs out of the bed.



"Where are you going?"



"To pack."



His eyes sparked as she lit a candle and stood poised in front of the wardrobe. He saw her bare body reflected front and back, and was reminded of the night before they had wed. If only he could turn the clock back to that lost joy and innocence.



But Arabella had no recollection of the evil, only the joy. Like the candlelight driving back the darkness of the storm-tossed night, their love could push the darkness out of their lives.



He stood up and went over to embrace and caress her from behind. He smiled at her, his hazel eyes aglow with longing as their eyes met in the mirror.