She thought about saying something to him about his lack of attire, then changed her mind. She would take on that issue later. Now she had a more important matter to address.
Harrison shut the door behind him, turned the bolt to lock it, and went to his wife.
He had a determined look on his face. She started backing away. "You and I must have a talk," she began. She put her hand up to ward him off. "I mean it, Harrison. Stop right where you are."
He ignored her command. Mary Rose continued to back up until the side of the bed prevented her from going any farther.
"All right," he agreed. He reached for the belt holding her robe together and began to untie it. "Talk."
She tried to push his hands away. He wouldn't be deterred, however. He had her belt undone before she could draw a proper breath.
"I'm trying real hard not to become angry with you, Mary Rose."
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "What do you have to be angry about?"
"September," he answered in a near shout. "Were you really going to wait until the end of September to come to England?"
She refused to be put on the defensive. "You deliberately lied to me. Leave my robe alone, damn it."
"Then take it off, damn it."
"Do you expect me to sleep with you?"
"I don't expect you to sleep much at all. I'm going to keep you up all night making love to you. I want you, and I know damned good and well you want me."
Tears came into her eyes. "I don't trust you."
"Yes, you do."
She suddenly felt like throwing her hands up in despair. He was making it impossible for her to argue with him. He was deliberately refusing to be logical. She couldn't present a valid argument to a man who was in the process of taking his pants off.
"I've had a long time to think about our situation," she began. "We are married, and because I made a commitment to you, I don't feel it would be right for me to walk away. We're going to have to start all over, Harrison."
"And how to do you propose we do that?"
"You could court me, and in time I'm hopeful I'll eventually learn to trust you again. I don't feel I know you at all, Harrison. The man I loved broke my heart."
Lord, but she was given to dramatics. He heard most of what she said to him. He paid attention too, until she got to the part about courting her. The hell with that, he thought to himself. They had gone way beyond courting days.
He was hard and aching with his need by the time he kicked his trousers aside and reached for her.
"Am I supposed to forget what it felt like to move inside you? I've had you, remember? I've felt you come in my arms, Mary Rose. I've heard you scream my name, felt you squeeze me tight, and if you really believe I can put those memories aside and start all over again, you've got to be out of your ever-loving mind."
She could barely stand up straight by the time he finished reminding her what loving him had been like. The roughness in his voice made her shiver with desire to feel his touch once again.
"What do you suggest we do?"
"Come here and I'll show you."
She shook her head. She knew exactly what would happen if she moved into his arms. She wanted to reach some sort of understanding before she gave in to her own needs.
She kept her gaze directed on his face. "Tell me first." He grabbed hold of her shoulders. "No, you tell me something first. Do you still love me?"
She lowered her gaze to his chest. She didn't want to start lying to him, even though she knew full well the truth would mean she would lose the argument.
"You broke my heart," she told him once again. "I warned you, remember?"
"You should have told me about my father."
"No, the duty belonged to your brothers. It would have been wrong for me to tell you."
"Then why weren't you with them when they told me? It would have made it easier for me."
"I was in Hammond defending a man in court when your brothers finally got around to telling you, and when I came back to the ranch, you'd disappeared. Damn it, Mary Rose, you shouldn't have run away from me. I'm your husband."
Considering the fact that she'd thought about killing him, she believed running away was a minor infraction in the rules governing marriage.
"I was extremely angry with you."
He shrugged. It wasn't the reaction she'd hoped to gain. "Where did you go?" he asked.
" Douglas took me to the Cohens' house. I stayed with the family for two weeks. Are you sorry you hurt me?"
She was hoping for an apology. She didn't know if it would help her get over her heartache, but she believed it might.
"I did what was necessary under the circumstances. In time you'll realize that."
"Do you love me?"
"Yes, I love you."
He pulled her up tight against him. "Can we please hold each other now?"
He put his arms around her and leaned down. He kissed her brow, the bridge of her nose, whispering all the while how much he'd missed her.
He pulled back, removed her robe, and then lifted her into his arms and fell onto the bed.
He was careful not to crush her with his weight, and once his body completely covered hers, he braced himself on his arms so he could look down into her eyes.
There were tears streaming down her cheeks. "Do you want me to leave you, Mary Rose?"
She shook her head, and he began to breathe again. And then she leaned up and kissed him.
His mouth settled firmly on top of hers, but her tongue moved inside to explore the interior of his mouth first. The bold action aroused him as much as the feel of her silky body against him. She stroked his back and his shoulders, and made him shake with his own need in the space of a heartbeat.
He wanted to slow their lovemaking, to pleasure her completely before he gave in to his own fulfillment, but her touch soon drove him beyond reason. She was so wonderfully responsive and giving, and, dear God, how he loved her.
He ended the kiss and lowered his head over her breasts. He began to stroke and tease her nipples with his tongue. She let out a ragged sigh of pleasure, urging him now, and when he took one nipple into his mouth and began to suckle, her sighs turned to moans. She arched up against him, moved her toes restlessly against his legs, and tried to get even closer to him.
His touch became rougher, less controlled. His hand caressed a path down her belly and lower still, until he found what he most wanted to possess. He felt the damp heat between her thighs and completely lost his discipline then. His fingers moved up inside her.
Mary Rose raked her nails across his shoulders, demanding now that he stop his torment and mate with her completely.
He didn't move quickly enough to suit her. She reached down and took hold of his arousal, and with her fingers closed around him, he let out a low growl of pleasure.
There could be no more waiting. He grabbed hold of her hands and roughly put them around his back as he moved to position himself. And then he entered her with one smooth thrust.
His jaw was clenched tight, for the rush of ecstasy was almost too much for him to bear.
"God, you feel good," he whispered. "Don't move like that, not yet. Let me, ah, sweetheart, you're making me want to…"
He couldn't go on. She had robbed him of the ability to talk at all. He was beyond thinking now, could only feel the incredible bliss of her hips moving against him. She drew her legs up to take him more completely inside her and wrapped her arms around his neck. She craved fulfillment now, for each time he thrust deep inside her, she felt a burst of splendor rush through her. His slow penetrating movements made her demand more and more until she was mindless of everything but the feel of him delving inside her. She pulled on his hair and scored the back of his neck with her nails. Her whimpers became more insistent and drove him over the edge. His thrusts became harder, deeper, and when he felt the first spasms of her orgasm, when she arched up against him and squeezed him tight inside her, he allowed his own release. He shouted her name as wave after wave of excruciating pleasure washed over him.