…until she felt herself gathered in, held fast in powerful arms, felt her back cuddled against a strong chest and her whole body rocked by a steadily thumping heart. Satin lips touched words of reassurance to her temple and the sweat-damp place behind her ear. She felt safe and warm and loved. Why, then, were her cheeks wet with tears?
She lay quietly in the grip of a dream, content to let the happiness she knew was ephemeral as a rainbow bathe her in its lovely light…until it dawned on her that the hard male body pressed against her back was no longer swathed in a towel. She moved her bottom experimentally. Yep. definitely Nikolas and nothing whatsoever else.
He stirred restlessly, one rock-hard leg hooking around hers to hold her still. The muscles in the arm supporting her head bunched under her cheek as he lifted his hand to caress her hair. "It's all right, my love…go to sleep."
"But-you-"
"Shh… You've been injured, you need to rest."
"But…don't you want-Nik, I can feel-"
"Don't worry about me. I'll be perfectly fine…if you'll just stop doing that…"
"You mean…this?"
"Dar-" breath hissed between his teeth "-stop that this instant, minx-I mean it."
"Or… what?"
"Or…" His tongue licked into her ear and she went limp, every inch of her skin spangled with goose bumps. He drew his hot, open mouth down along the side of her neck and chuckled when she gasped…squirmed closer, fitting her buttocks into the nest of his body. He raised himself on one elbow and leaned down to ask in a growling whisper, "Are you sure, my love?"
She nodded, already beyond speech. His lips pressed against her temple as his hand reached around to cup the mound of damp curls between her thighs. Finding her moist and ready, he slipped his hand under her leg and lifted it. She shifted, adjusted, making it easy for him…and he slid into her body slowly, like the sweetest of homecomings…filled her body with heat and her heart and mind with an aching joy.
His hands were strong and sure, holding her steady against his rocking thrusts, his fingers gentle as they stole between her swollen petals and found the sensitive place hidden there. Sensation bolted through her once more; she whimpered… gasped…cried out…and hurtled headlong into climax.
It was every bit as intense as the first orgasm had been, but instead of a terrifying void, she felt surrounded in love and warmth; instead of aloneness, a deep communion. She did feel lost…as if her self, her heart and soul, had become inextricably joined with his. and she would never be the same Rhia again. Somewhere in her fractured self was the thought that this should be a frightening thing…but it wasn't.
Tears of overwhelming love and joy sprang to her eyes when she felt his release follow hers, and afterward she floated into sleep, still blissfully wrapped in Nikolas's arms.
Chapter 14
He watched her come awake, and was steeped in the same sense of wonder with which he'd once observed, as a very small boy. the emergence of a butterfly from its leafy chrysalis. First, the delicate flutter of eyelids…a hint of green sparkling through dark lashes…a tiny frown gathered between bird's-wing brows…the quivering of rose-petal lips on the verge of a yawn…and once again, as then, he couldn't resist reaching out to touch the miracle with an unsteady finger.
She twitched her nose…brushed at her cheek where he'd touched it. Then her eyes opened and looked directly into his. and he thought no sunrise had ever been so beautiful.
"Whazza matter?" she mumbled, her eyes crossing slightly in their effort to focus on his face. "What're you doing?"
"Just looking at you, my love," he said tenderly, stroking her hair back from her forehead. "Watching you sleep."
She rolled her eyes and gave a husky laugh. "Oh, that must have been lovely."
"It was, actually. I was going to do the whole Prince Charming thing and awaken you with my kiss, but you seemed about to return to life without it, so I've enjoyed watching the process. Quite fascinating."
"Oh, God…" She put a hand over her eyes, then scrubbed it across her face and glared at him-or tried her best to. "At least you didn't handcuff me to the bed this time." But he could see the smile and the answer to his deepest wishes shimmering in her eyes.
"Never again," he whispered, and leaned down to kiss her. Then he drew back and added thoughtfully. "Not without your permission, at least."
"Seriously…how come you're all dressed already?" Too early in the morning for humor, evidently. She frowned, yawned hugely as she pushed herself up higher on the pillows, then winced and sucked in her chest when the sheet dragged across her burns. "I must look like bloody hell. Feels like I haven't showered in days. Can't imagine what you must be thinking…"
Smiling at her grumpiness, he hooked a finger in the sheet and lifted it away from her breasts. "Actually, I was thinking how very much I should like to see your face on my pillows every morning when I wake up."
Yes, and I should love to see your face grow rosy and your body plump with my child. I want to watch our sons and daughters suckling at your lovely breasts. I want to watch the joys and sorrows we share etch lines in your face, my love, and your skin grow ever softer, morefragile andeven more beautiful in old age.
Those things he thought but didn't say. And because he was too steeped in love and his own fantasy, he failed to notice that Rhia's eyes had gone wide and dark with dismay.
"Marry me, sweetheart." The words slipped from him without thought. He didn't feel them pass his lips; it was as if they had simply gone straight from his heart into the air.
And her response came back the same way-a recoil that pierced him like an arrow. "What?"
Too soon, you imbecile! But that realization came too late: the words were out there, hanging suspended between them, and could not be unsaid.
"Yes. Marry me." Nothing to do now but forge ahead. Leaning casually on one elbow to hide the crazy pounding of his heart, he looked into her horrified eyes and smiled. "You must know I adore you-I've hardly made a secret of that. I intend to spend the rest of my life with you, anyhow, and quite frankly. I can't think of any reason why we couldn't…shouldn't make it legal."
"Oh, I can think of at least one really good one." Her voice was dark and soft.
"You don't love me…" He was sure enough of her feelings to say the words, but they quivered in his throat regardless. "Is that it, sweetheart?" He lightly stroked the soft white un-dercurve of her breast with the back of one finger.
"No!" She batted his hand away…hitched in a breath. "You know that's not…it." Another breath, and she gathered the sheet to cover her nakedness again. "You're about to become king. Or have you forgotten? You can't marry me."
"Why not?" He sat up suddenly, and swiveled to face her. "Oh, wait-don't tell me it's because you're a 'commoner'? Good God, woman, this is the twenty-first century-didn't that crap get done away with somewhere along in the twentieth? Besides, if you come down to it, I'm a commoner myself, in everything but blood. No, love-sorry, that excuse won't wash. The people of Silvershire are going to fall for you as madly as I have. They're going to think you're an absolutely smashing queen."
She stared back at him in stony-eyed silence for a moment. Then swallowed, and said in a voice to match her eyes. "Yes. I'm sure the good people of Silvershire would be positively thrilled to have a convicted felon as their queen."
He shook his head and gazed at her indulgently, laughing. "What on earth are you talking about?"