*
Will couldn’t keephis hands off his wife.
“I want you again,” he murmured against her breast, biting down on the soft flesh. He chuckled when she pushed him away. “I’m already a wolf in your eyes. Wolves ravish beauties.”
“Do you like the watch?”
He kissed the finger which held the ring he had bought for her. “Yes. And is this to your liking?”
She smiled and held up her hand, tracing a finger over the blue sapphire stone. “I love it.” She slanted a look at him. “What made you choose this stone?”
He kissed one eye. Then another.
She laughed. “Very well, I understand. My eyes.”
“Also the blue dress you wore at the Stewart ball.”
“And here I thought men didn’t notice such things.”
“I notice everything about you, love.” He shifted to pull her firmly into his embrace, sliding a leg over her thigh to keep her in place. “Especially all the moans you make when I love you.”
She pushed at him, her face brightening to a delightful pink. “Stop it, I have some things I need to confess.”
He pulled back to stare at her. “You have my full attention.”
She bit down on her lips.
Will drew his brows together. “I am not going to like these confessions?”
“What? No, I mean, I don’t know. One maybe, but the other... I’m not sure.”
He pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. “Just tell me, love.”
She nestled deeper into him. “I made a promise to my mother on her deathbed.”
Will froze, but said nothing, allowing her to collect her thoughts and say what was on her heart. He intertwined his fingers with her, observing her.
“I promised her I would marry a man who would fight for me. A man who proved himself worthy.”
Will went still, his muscles tensing. “Then . . .”
“I dashed off that day as a test to see what you would do. Not just that, but everything I did up to the moment I agreed to marry you was to see if you were a man who would fight for me. If you were worthy. Obviously, I found the my answer—I married you.”
Will’s heart squeezed. Hard. He rested his temple on her bosom, collecting his thoughts. Emotion burned in his eyes.
“Bloody hell,” was all he could manage.
A small hand patted his back. Soothing. Will started trailing kisses over her the swell of her breasts, up to her collarbone, her neck, until he finally reached her lips. He pulled away. “I have a confession too.” He nipped at her chin. “Or more truly an accusation.”
“An accusation?”
“Yes, your memory is atrocious. Especially when you drink.”
“That’s your accusation?” She suddenly blinked. “Did I do something when I was tipsy?”
“Tipsy?” His hand roamed the length of her leg. “Woman, just call it what it was—foxed.”
“Very well,foxed. Now tell me, what did I forget?”
