“Notthatmany!”
“And that you’ve won every single one.”
“You do not think dueling foolish?”
“Yes, I suppose I do. But I know men take it seriously indeed, and even more serious those skills you must master in order to win a duel.”
“And what are those?”
“Shooting, of course, but perhaps fencing as well. Certainly, the skill of cultivating a look of danger.”
He laughed. “You think I appear dangerous.”
She nodded. “Itshouldbe impossible, what with the pinks and the oranges, but you do. And you can continue to dress as you do even then. You may do as you please, Tobias.” As long as he held her like this every morning and every night.
He fell back onto the bed, pulling her with him.
Her skirts were well and wrinkled now. But how could she care with his big, strong hands framing her face, with his blue eyes sparkling at her.
He brushed his thumb across her lower lip and shook his head softly. “Damn, but I adore you, Mags.”
On her wedding night, Maggie had thought she’d felt her heart grow, expanding with all the emotions she felt for this man. She’d thought, as her body shook with her climax, that she’d experienced the apex of all pleasure and happiness.
She’d been wrong. This moment eclipsed that one.
He kissed her softly. “I’m terribly glad you snuck into my bedroom and were almost flattened by a wardrobe.”
Tears pricked her eyes. She bracketed his face with her hands and kissed him back. “So am I. So horribly glad. It’s not at all the thing, but I think … I’m afraid … I love you.”
The sparkle left his eyes and calm settled over him. Only his chest moved gently up and down. Until a corner of his mouth twitched up. “Are you sure you don’t just love my waistcoats?”
“Certainly not.”
“And you don’t just love my hair? You touch it an awful lot.”
“It is one of your best features and quite irresistible, but that’s not it. Entirely.”
“Hm. Must be my dazzling wit.”
She felt a grin split her face and happiness burst through the walls of her heart. “It is that, actually. You make me laugh. I love how you see the world and I love how … how you see me.”
“I’d like to see more of you.” The lustful gleam in his eye blinked out, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck and whispered, “Because damn it all if I don’t love you, too.”
She closed her eyes and let his words spread from the warmth he’d breathed into her neck outward, through her arms and legs, settling into her heart. How in the world had her misadventures resulted in a husband she loved who loved her in return? She held him close. Could he feel her heart beat just for him?
He pulled away and arched an eyebrow at her. “Can I see more now?”
“Did you just confess your love to get me naked?”
“I would never!” He waggled his eyebrows and granted her a roguish grin.
She nipped his shoulder. “I’ll have to punish you for it.” She pushed him onto his back and straddled him, her skirts riding up to her hips. To hell with her skirts. And her social engagements. The potential business partners could wait, and she could attend Henrietta’s club another day. The man she loved had confessed his love for her, and she could think of no better way to celebrate then by showing her love for him with her body.
He grasped her thighs and stroked them up and down, the sparkle of joy in his eyes raging into a heated passion. “I love you.” The words came out less dreamy this time, grating on his husky voice, taking on weight.
She grasped his already hard cock and returned the favor, grateful—as she had been over and over again in the last week—that he slept in the nude. She stroked him until his hips jerked, then she slid down his body and took him between her lips.
He hissed and stabbed his fingers through her hair, destroying her once-elegant coiffure.
