“Your sister. I spoke with my brother and he admitted to bedding her,” he said grimly.
Madeline. He was sorry about her sister. That had been the one thing she’d understood—his loyalty to his brother. She was happy he’d learned the truth but—
“I have something for you.” He released her and moved toward the bookshelf.
Elizabeth immediately missed the warmth of his arms.
From one of the upper shelves, he retrieved a glossy wood figurine measuring approximately a foot and a half in height.
“You once asked to see my work and asked if I ever sculpted people. I told you only if I found them interesting enough. Well no one has interested me more than the subject of this one.” He offered the carving to her.
Dazed, Elizabeth accepted it, her fingers registering the smoothness of the shiny surface. It was a woman bedecked in a lovely ball gown, her head angled over her shoulder. The lace on the gown had been intricately carved as were the combs decorating her hair. She was slim and slightly full in the breasts, and the face…the face was undeniably hers. It was beautiful.
Her breath hitched, her hands began a violent trembling and her eyes grew wide as her gaze flew up to his. Tears burned the back of her eyes.
“This is how I first saw you, peeking at me over your shoulder. That image has remained ingrained in my mind since.”
“Derek.” His name came out choked as emotion seared her throat.
“I don’t want you to marry me for fear of ruination. I want you to marry me for the same reason I want to marry you. For love.”
Elizabeth didn’t have the capacity to speak. At least not with any proficient articulation. She was buffeted by too many emotions, all of them overwhelming. She let out an uneven breath.
“I will be forever grateful that Lady Danvers is the biggest gossip in all of Christendom.”
She smiled despite the tears beginning to fall.
“That,” he glanced pointedly at the wood carving of her, “is yours only if you agree to marry me. If you refuse me, I will have to keep it as it will be all that I have of you.” He wore his vulnerability on his face, his eyes exhibiting a caution she’d never seen before, his voice low and uncertain.
Carefully and with undue care, Derek extricated his gift from her trembling hands and placed it on the desk. It was then she noticed the adhesive plaster wrapped around his index finger.
Instantly concerned, she asked, “What happened?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
He chuckled softly and held up his finger. “It’s just a nick from the carving knife. I gave myself three days to finish and I succeeded with only minor war wounds.”
Elizabeth’s vision blurred as a sob wracked her frame. He immediately enclosed her in his arm and she buried her face into the crook of his shoulder, melting into the hard contours of his body.
He leaned down and pressed a possessive kiss against her lips. “I was your first—”
A heartfelt apology.
“—and I want to be the only man in your life.”
A heartfelt declaration.
“Will you do the honor of agreeing to be my wife?”
A proposal.
She let out a shuddery breath. “Oh,” she said in a small voice.
Keeping her in the tight circle of his arms, Derek sank into the chair behind him, tumbling Elizabeth into his lap.
He quirked his brow. “Oh? That is all?”
Elizabeth found it hard to speak, now distracted by his erection pressing up against her bottom. She choked down a sob.
“Shhh, my love,” he said gently wiping a tear with his thumb.
Elizabeth had never felt so much in all her life. Her feelings were just too big, too extraordinary, too exhilerating.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Her acceptance.
And then she kissed him.
Epilogue
Elizabeth came slowly awake to the familiar press of an erection against her bum. She pressed back to gauge the level of his willingness—her husband's readiness was never in question.
A rumbled groan sounded from behind her as strong hands gripped her hips and brought her naked form flush against his equally naked front. His chest hairs gently abraded the soft skin of her back. With his hands still holding her hips in place, he pressed his erection into her, his breath harsh and labored near her ear.
Elizabeth didn't even try to hold back the moan that slipped heedless from her lips—could deny him nothing not even the sound of her pleasure. Moisture collected at her center readying her for his possession. She couldn't remember once in their eight month marriage when she hadn't been.
Months ago, she’d stopped being amazed how she could crave Derek's touch so intensely and want him with such frequency. She just accepted it for what it was as one in the many ways they expressed their desire and love for each other.
"Good morning. Lift your leg," he urged, his voice passion drugged.
Elizabeth eagerly obliged him, raising her leg inches before Derek took control.
Sometimes he would linger, running his fingers languidly down the length of her thigh before reaching her knee. This morning he was impatient, sinking into her in one smooth thrust, filling her to capacity. Impaled, she could only whimper and moan at the sheer pleasure of his possession.
Need clawed wildly within her. He pulled almost out and then slammed back into her with enough force to make her toes curl and her knees to shake in his hands as he held her open for him. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he pummeled her, in and out, repeating the movements until her vision blurred.
With a sinuous arch of her back, she thrust her bottom back hard on a downward stroke. He hissed out a breath between clenched teeth as if in pain.
From there, things got wild and out of control. They labored like that for several minutes, the race to satisfaction, the promise of nirvana just strokes away.
When her climax hit, it ripped through her with the strength of a tornado, and defying gravity, flung her up to the stars. Only after she found her release, did Derek take his. With one final thrust, he spent himself inside her, her name a violent groan on his lips.
Elizabeth could barely catch her breath. Her skin was damp and rosy from exertion and satiation. She lay in her husband’s arms utterly spent.
Slowly he pulled out of her and pushed the length of her tangled hair over her shoulders. A soft kiss landed on her neck. She loved when he did this, loved basking in the afterglow. The scratch of his stubble had her reaching up with her free hand to lovingly rub his cheek.
“Was I too rough?” His lips coasted the shell of her ear.
“Never.” It came out sounding like a purr.
“No nausea?”
With a playful nip to her ear, Derek dropped his head onto the pillow. Elizabeth rolled onto her side to face him, propping up on her elbow.
She smiled down at him. “Not this morning.”
“Maybe I should always wake you like that.” As he spoke, his gaze drifted to her breasts.
She chuckled. “But you do.”
He continued to eye her breasts. “Do they still hurt?”
Before she could answer, he lightly brushed her nipple with his thumb until it pebbled. They had discovered she was with child the month before and now in the third month of her pregnancy, she was starting to see a slight rounding to her stomach.
“Not when you do that.” Her release only minutes before had rendered her practically enervated but his touch began a slow simmer of pleasure in her blood. But sadly, they didn’t have time for another bout of lovemaking.
“Derek, you know we cannot. There isn’t time. Charlotte would never forgive me if I came late to her wedding.”
“Good God, is that today already?” he teased. Elizabeth had talked of little else the past fortnight.