Regency Mischief (44 page)

He came to put his arms about her, gazing down at her face for several moments, before bending his head to kiss her. His lips were soft, tender, yet with an underlying passion that spoke of his hunger.

‘How did I become so very fortunate?’ he asked huskily. ‘I was so careless in the way I chose my bride—and I found myself untold treasure in you.’

‘Had you chosen more carefully I think we should never have met.’ Lottie frowned. ‘I am sorry about the things Clarice said and did. I hope she will stay in France and not trouble us again, Nicolas.’

‘I have her receipt, and she knows that if she breaks the terms of our agreement she could find herself in prison. I believe she will stay away, but if she comes again, just tell me, Lottie. You must not feel sorry and
give her money. Let me deal with her. Your sister is an adventuress. I regret to say it, for it must pain you, but you should face the truth.’

‘I have,’ Lottie said and sighed. ‘I did not wish to believe you when you told me what she did in Paris, but I should have known. I shall not be foolish enough to give her money again. She must manage with her allowance or fend for herself.’

‘We do not need to talk about her, my love.’ Nicolas’s hand stroked her hair, then her cheek. ‘Come to bed, my darling. I want to show you how very much I love and worship you.’

Lottie gave him her hand, letting him lead her to the bed. Her heart was beating wildly as she lay down and drew him to her. Their kisses were sweeter than ever before, because for the first time both gave everything. All the barriers had been swept away, and Nicolas’s eyes were free of shadows.

As Lottie surrendered to the tumultuous feeling of desire that overwhelmed her, she loved and knew that she was loved. Her nails raked his shoulders, her mewing cries of pleasure mixing with the rasp of his breath as he cried out and shuddered at the end. They lay together, flesh to flesh, lost in the wonder of the new happiness they had found, and then they slept.