[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

his legs up until his knees pressed against her smooth back. His hands fell to
cup the sides of her hips. "Don't let me hurt you," he ground out. "Slow down,
love. I won't be able to stop."
He quit his protests when he felt her tighten around him, knew she was about
to find her own release. His hand slid into the silky triangle of curls
nestled against him. His fingers stroked her there until the fire consumed her
and she turned into liquid gold in his arms.
He spilled his seed into her with a harsh groan of blissful surrender, then
pulled her down to cover his chest, to hold her close, to share the rapture.
It bad never been this good. It kept getting better, too, Lyon realized when
his mind could form a logical thought again. "You're a wild tigress," he
whispered to Christina in a voice that sounded thoroughly satisfied.
Christina propped her chin on her hands and stared down at her husband. "No, I
am your lioness," she whispered.
He didn't dare laugh. Christina had sounded so terribly serious, as if what
she'd just told him was of high importance. He nodded, giving her his
agreement while his fingers combed through the tumble of luxuriant curls
covering her back. He lifted and then rearranged the strands in an
absentminded fashion as he stared into his wife's magnificent blue eyes.
"Do you know, when you look at me like that I immediately lose my
concentration," he told her.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Christina announced. She leaned down to kiss
him again. "You feel so good inside me," she whispered against his mouth. "And
now you must give me the soft words, Lyon."
He wasn't sure what she meant by soft words, but she looked serious again.
She'd stacked her hands under her chin and was staring down at him with an
expectant look on her face.
"What are soft words, Christina? Tell me and I'll give them to you."
"You must tell me what is inside your heart," she instructed.
"Ah," Lyon drawled. His eyes took on a tender look when he added, "I love you,
Christina."
"And?"
"And what?" Lyon asked, exasperated. "Christina, I never thought I'd be able
to love again. And to actually get married… you've made me change all
my old ways. I do not tell you I love you on a whim, Christina."
"But I already know you love me," Christina answered. "I didn't want you to,
but I do admit it still pleases me. Now you must praise me, Lyon. It's the way
it's done."
"I don't understand," Lyon said. "That doesn't surprise me," he added with a
wink. He looked around the room and saw the chaos their hastily discarded
clothing had made. The fact that he was stretched out on the carpet in his
library with his uninhibited wife draped over him, trying to have a logical
conversation, vastly amused him. "Do you think you're always going to be so
shameless, my sweet?"
"Do not change this topic, Lyon. You must tell me I'm as beautiful as a flower
in spring, as soft and delicate as a flower's petal. And why is that amusing
to you? A woman must feel as desirable after loving as before, Lyon." He quit
smiling when he realized she was about to cry. Lyon understood what she needed
now. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes. He cupped the sides of her
face and leaned up to kiss her. It was a soft, tender caress meant to remove
her worry, her tears.
And then he wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her all the soft words
she longed to hear.["chapter_13"]
Chapter Twelve
["#Contents"]Contents- ["#chapter_12"]Prev| ["#chapter_14"]Next
It wasn't a very joyful reunion with my sister. Patricia acted just like
Father. She was happy to see me until she realized Edward wasn't with me.
Patricia's husband, Alfred, was as kind as 1 remembered, and he made my stay
as pleasant as he could. Patricia told me they'd broken all their engagements
to stay home with me, but after a while I realized they didn't have any
friends at all. Patricia hated the people of Boston, and I believed the
feeling was reciprocated.
My sister longed to go back to England. She fashioned a ridiculous plan. Once
she was convinced I meant to stay in the colonies and never return to my
husband, she announced that I must give her my baby. She would pass the child
off as her own.
She tried to make me believe she wanted to be a mother, that her life wouldn't
be filled until she had a child to call her own. I knew the truth, of course.
Patricia hadn't changed over the time we'd been separated. No, she wanted a
grandchild to give our father. An heir, father would forgive her
transgressions; he'd want to provide well for his only grandchild.
I was vehemently against this deception, Christina. I knew greed was my
sister's only reason. I told her I'd never give my child away. Patricia
ignored my protests. I saw her destroy a letter I'd given her husband to post
to London for me. I was able to get one letter past her scrutiny, though, and
I was also secure in the knowledge that my father would find the missive I'd
left behind in his winter chest.
Albert kept me supplied with the daily papers to keep my mind occupied while I
awaited your birth, and it was quite by chance that I came upon an article
about the frontier people.
Journal entry October 5, 1795
~
Lyon and Christina set out for his country manor shortly after a picnic [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]