“I wasn’t sure…” She swallowed hard and gave him a tight smile before moving closer. “So much has happened, and last December seems like a lifetime ago. I got a letter from my parents. Since the War Office won’t be sending a widow’s pension, Tempest insists I have an annuity, and he says Milton cottage is mine, but I’m not going to keep the house—I doubt I’ll have need of it. It could end up costing me more to keep it standing and I’m not even certain it’s safe. I can’t have that—for Amelia, you know—"
“God, I’ve missed this,” Luke growled from where he rested his chin on her shoulder.
“I’m nervous.” She admitted, turning her head so that she could look at him. “I wasn’t sure,” she repeated. Neither of them could have been one hundred percent certain. But they had both loved. They had both promised. And they had both hoped.
In answer, Luke touched his lips to hers softly. “I worried like hell that you would regret marrying me.”
“Never.” She answered. “I told him. I told Arthur about us on his last day. He confessed that he hadn’t signed the certificate. He said he was waiting to secure my dowry. He intended to sign it after speaking with my father. But he—”
“Ran out of time.”
“Yes.” She glanced down but then took a deep breath and looked up again. “But I told him you and I married, that you did so in order to protect Amelia… and me.”
“And because I loved you,” Luke said. He never wanted her to doubt the motivation behind his proposal. Of course, he would have protected her child and her reputation, but he’d meant every word he’d said in that tiny church when he’d married her. “I’ve been in love with you since before we met. Did you know that?” He nuzzled his lips along her delicate jaw. “Before I’d even finagled an introduction, I overheard you laughing. It was the most joyful, delightful sound I’d ever heard. When I turned and caught sight of you for the first time, I was ruined. Utterly ruined for all other women.”
Naomi tilted her head back, allowing his lips to trail kisses down her neck. “I didn’t know.”
Luke groaned. “Never doubt my love.”
“I won’t,” she promised. Tasting her, holding her, was like coming home. Her hand grazed the material covering his thighs. “You are not wearing your uniform.”
Luke inhaled a cleansing breath. “I am no longer Major Lucas Cockfield.”
“Simply Lord Lucas, again?”
“To match my Lady Lucas.” Luke liked the sound of that.
“What did Blackheart say about it?”
“My brother... simply asked what was needed from him to fix up my estate. He wishes us well.” Luke swallowed emotion that welled at the mention of that conversation. “Said he was proud of me.”
“He is a good man.”
Luke closed his eyes. “He is.”
As much as Luke esteemed his brother, he didn’t wish to speak of Blackheart in that moment. Not when he had Naomi in his arms. He’d waited a lifetime to have her.
He slid his hands down her arms, embracing her from behind. “God, Naomi, I missed you.” First, they had been friends, then they’d become lovers, and for a brief moment, they had stood in a church together as man and wife.
And then… nothing. He’d gone away and, on his return, had hardly even been allowed to acknowledge her.
He’d been unable to bask in her smile, to talk with her privately, to listen to her laugh. It had been impossible to touch his lips to hers or openly show her affection in any way.
And he hadn’t made love to her in nearly ten months.
It was time, and he would reveal the depths of his emotions to her in the best way he knew how—the way he’d ached to. It had been so long for both of them. Too long.
She made a mewling sound, one he remembered from sharing her bed and burrowed into him. “There is nothing between us now.” She murmured.
“Nothing.”
But he was surprised when she giggled. “I mean.” She drew one of his hands lower, to her midsection. “No little cantaloupe.”
He hadn’t even noticed the difference. But now, the joyful ring of her laughter had him chuckling. He had craved her voice, her touch, her smile—he had craved this joy. Awed at what life had in store for him, he opened his hand and covered her belly. Not at all as he remembered from before. Slightly rounded though, and soft. He palmed his way upward and cradled the weight of her breast. Heavier. Her uniquely feminine flesh filled his hand, giving him all sorts of carnal ideas. “I have the opportunity to learn your body all over again.”
As he watched her neck and cheeks flush a pretty pink, blood surged to his groin.
Ten months had passed since he’d made love to her. Ten months of waiting, of worrying.
Of wanting.
The thought of being with her again sent his heart racing. “Are you still nervous?”
“No.” And then, “A little.”
Luke dropped his legs and lifted her onto his lap, sideways. “I believe then, Lady Lucas, that we must reacquaint ourselves with one another.”
Staring into his eyes, she nodded. “I am being silly.”
“You are being honest.” She never need hide anything from him. “Your feelings aren’t silly, love. They are yours, your truth. Never apologize for sharing them with me, never.”
Naomi gazed back at Luke and was reminded of how he’d assured her that she must grieve in her own way. Despite the mistakes she’d made last year, he’d done nothing but provide his support, his protection, and then later, his love.
“I’m not nervous anymore, Luke.” She took it upon herself to reassure him this time, reaching her arms up to twine around his neck. All she wanted in that moment was to be as close to him as possible.
Pressing her mouth against his, her first thought was that he tasted of the outdoors. Firm, but then his lips softened and parted, and the familiarity of his taste both comforted and excited her.
Without breaking the kiss, Luke grasped hold of her thigh and shifted her so that she straddled him.
He’d said they needed to reacquaint themselves with one another. He was correct. She loved him with every fiber of her being despite the distance of the past year or the pain of his absence. Perhaps she loved him even more for having suffered it.
But they would come to know one another, as only husband and wife are privy to. They would share their thoughts, their emotions. Their bodies. One flesh.
Their hands tangled with one another while she reached to unfasten his falls and he tugged at the material of her dress.
They sighed at the same time, when skin touched skin. She lifted herself and hovered. Luke stroked himself at her opening. She was wet, slick. Ready for him. She relaxed her weight and impaled herself on him.
She heard and felt his moan at the same time she released one of her own.
“Luke.” Had he made her feel this whole before? He lifted her slowly and then lowered her again. Her spine turned to jelly as he moved beneath her. And then they were both moving.
“I can’t last long,” he breathed. “You feel too damn good.”
He slowed, staring into her eyes, holding her gaze, hiding nothing of his feelings, pushing up, penetrating her, claiming her.