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“She is better off without me. Such is for the lady to decide, I would think. Details of the woman herself began to penetrate his thoughts. The generosity in her smile. Her gentle, open gaze. The way she had told him her secrets with trust and honesty, her compassion, and her quiet, understated courage. And before he so effectively and willfully crushed it, he recalled the glimmer of hope she had inspired in him. The hope he had stripped away before it could settle too deeply in his being. So many times, he had sensed in her a desire to push their intimacy further. He had seen the yearning in her eyes and ignored it. He had witnessed the countless times she reached for him and then held back. He had been grateful for her restraint. He had been a coward. He understood that she had known better all along. She had understood what was missing between them. Rather than having the courage to explore those feelings- instead of trusting in her and her love- he had forced her away. The truth was so clear. From the very beginning, she had belonged to him, but not as a mistress belonged to her protector. Lily was his as his soul was his. Just as he was hers. She was a part of him. He was a part of her. He could not exist without her. And if he loved her, he had to trust that she had spoken the truth when she had said she wanted him, flaws and all. He did. He did trust her.”

“But I promise, I will not allow my limitations to lessen the pleasure you experience during our association." A blush pinked her cheeks. But she did not look away. "And what of your pleasure, my lord?" Her voice was soft and low. Smoky, like her eyes. It weaved through Avenell's senses and hit him hard in the gut. Heat scored through his insides on a direct path to his loins. He had suspected from the start that her gentle manner had lured him so strongly. But the unexpected boldness in her query had an intense effect on him. His arousal roughened his tone as he answered, "My pleasure is assured. Do not doubt that." The pink in her cheeks spread down across her chest and the upper swell of her breasts, but still she held his gaze. He wondered what she might be thinking. Her stillness was disconcerting when he sensed so much going on inside her.”

“Where am I?" He did not answer immediately. Since entering the room, he had kept his focus locked on her face. But Lily watched as the direction of his gaze slid down her body. His perusal was slow and comprehensive, sliding over her breasts and continuing past the curve of her hips and down her bare legs beyond the short hem of her shift. Though he revealed nothing in his stony expression, there was something in the gleam of his blue-black eyes that brought a delicate quiver to Lily's belly. She glanced at his hands where they fell at his sides. He held them tensely extended, his long fingers spreading wide, before he clenched them into tight fists as he finished his slow review of her body. By the time the path of his perusal made its way back to her face, Lily was breathless and hot with a different kind of fear and... something else. "You are in my bedroom." The intimate depth of his voice struck Lily with an acute force. Her head spun, and her legs collapsed. As she tensed for a collision with the floor, she was swept up in strong arms. The fire raging beneath her skin flared with bright intensity as Lord Harte scooped his arms beneath her legs and around her back to lift her high against his chest. It took only a few short moments for him to set her back on the bed. He released her abruptly to flip the bedcovers over her, then turned and strode away. Lily was left with the striking impressions of his body's warmth, the strength of his arms around her, the woodsy scent of his skin, the brush of his embroidered waistcoat felt through the muslin of her shift, and then the sight of his broad back as he walked away, putting the entire distance of the room between them.”

“From the moment Lord Harte had entered the bedroom, she had begun to experience everything differently. Her thoughts, feelings, and reactions originated from a deeper source. Her fear and confusion had made way for other, more urgent sensations. The longer she sat under the earl's harsh and heady regard, the further she slipped into a state of expectancy. She felt on the verge of something, but she had no idea what. As the weakness in her mind and limbs continued to dissipate, she acknowledged that she could not blame her odd reactions on the aftereffects of the drug. He was the cause of her heightened responses. It was more than the wealth of secrets and mystery contained behind his midnight eyes. It was how he made her feel. Intrinsically. Viscerally. When he looked at her with his hooded gaze, she experienced something in the marrow of her bones, in the blood flowing through her veins, in the ether of her mind.”

“Of course," she muttered with a rough laugh that was far from humorous, "how foolish of me to consider such a thing when I have seen the evidence of your loathing myself." "Loathing? Oh yes, I despise you." Avenell murmured darkly. The sarcasm dripping from his harsh words sent a shiver down her spine. He lowered his chin but did not break eye contact. "I would love to show you in a thousand ways just how much I loathe you, Miss Chadwick." As he spoke, his expression slowly shifted. It felt as though he allowed his facade to fall away, giving her a glimpse of the truth beneath before he shuttered his features again. For a brief moment, she again detected that hunger she had first seen on the night they had collided outside the Mawbrys' town house. It left her breathless. In a blast of heat and trembling awareness, she understood that what she had been seeing in him all along had never been anger or revulsion. It was desire, possibly as deep and complex as her own. The revelation stunned her.”

“If I took you as my own, one night would not be nearly enough." Her gray eyes darkened, and her voice was a thick murmur. "Then take more." There was no hesitation in her reply, no coy flirtation. The words were a perfect blend of plea and command. Just as her manner was equal parts vulnerability and strength, courage and beauty. Avenell's chest tightened with a feeling he could not identify. He could do nothing beyond acknowledging it was something more than lust and so much more than the desire to possess. He was helpless to resist the sensation as it traveled through his bloodstream, leaving him in a state of heightened anticipation.”

“You have chosen to give yourself to me, Miss Chadwick." The words were low and clear. "I do not take it lightly, this gift you've bestowed. But as I said, it will take far more than one night to make you mine." Lily released her breath on a soft sigh. Something flickered in his impenetrable stare, and he added in a murmur, "There will be no going back." The sentiment echoed her own from earlier, and Lily experienced a sense of rightness in that moment that overcame any lingering question or concern. They would be lovers. As they stood facing each other in silence, barely an inch separating them yet not touching at all, she wanted so badly to lift her hand and press it to the side of his face. She wanted to feel the hard angle of his jaw against her palm and the roughness of his skin where the shadowed start of a beard darkened his cheeks. Something held her back. She touched him with her studied gaze instead, observing the harsh lines of his face as a frown hardened his visage. She slid her attention briefly to the pulse beating at his temple, then across his oppressive eyebrows, down the slope of his strong nose. His mouth was pressed into a stern, unforgiving line, but it could not disguise the elegant upper arches or the generous lower curve of his bottom lip. His mouth was beautiful, she thought. Lifting her gaze again to meet his eyes, she was struck by the raw need she saw there.”

“He did not move from the door, but stood watching her, a possessive gleam in his eyes. Licks of flame danced through her blood, and the boldness she had momentarily possessed left her in a long exhale. He wanted her. It was an amazing thought. And though the forbidden novels she had read had given her more insight into what happened between a man and a woman in the bedroom than any young lady should have, there was simply no way to feel prepared for what was to come. Even though this moment was inevitable and had been from the first time she had seen him. As she stared back at him, his brows lowered even farther over his eyes, intensifying the delicate anticipation roaring through Lily's body. His rich voice, when he spoke, flowed through her like fine wine. "Remove your cloak.”

“At least now he finally had her to himself. He slid an intent gaze over the vision she presented. The pure white of her gown was cinched tightly beneath her breasts before falling gently past the generous curves of her waist and hips. Her bodice was overlaid with lace and fitted securely over her bosom, suggesting the lushness there but revealing only a modest expanse of bare skin. Her slim neck was arched proudly as she endured his perusal. Her gloved hands were clasped in front of her, and her lips, a perfect rosy pink, were shaped into a gentle bow as her gray eyes stared back at him. There was caution in her gaze. She was the epitome of the sweet and modest maiden. And she had agreed to be his. Deep disquiet rolled through him. He had begun something that went way beyond his capabilities. He knew it, but he couldn't stop his forward progression. He wanted her.”

“Tell me what you are thinking when you look at me like that." There was iron and ice in his voice. Not even a hint of tenderness. For some reason, his harsh manner did not bother her. She sensed something beautiful and elusive existed behind his daunting facade. The possibility of discovering what it was filled her with delicate anticipation. She looked into his eyes and answered truthfully. "I am thinking about how you make me feel." The muscles along his jaw tensed, and his eyelids lowered just the barest fraction. He brought his hands around to clasp them behind his back. To keep from reaching for her? "How do I make you feel?" Her skin tingled in reaction to the raw note in his voice. Lily took a moment as she thought about how to put it into words. It was a difficult thing to explain, and she wanted it to come out right. "I feel..." she began, then hesitated. Her breath caught in her chest, and she had to force it out on a heavy sigh. "I feel strong and weak at the same time. When you look at me, I feel exposed, as if you can see my most private thoughts. And though it frightens me- you frighten me- it is such an exquisite sensation that I do not want it to end. Because I want you to know me, to see the deepest parts of me." At first he did not respond beyond a fierce clenching of his teeth, and Lily wondered if he wanted to hear something else. Had she revealed too much of her inexperience? Should she have said something more provocative, more sophisticated? "Do you desire me?" he asked finally. The molten heat running through his words curled around her, heating her breath, her skin, her blood. She looked into his eyes and felt a swirling deep within. It tingled like white fire and spread to the most intimate places in her body.”

“He was impressed by her stillness. Her calm willingness to allow him such liberties. To reward her, he leaned forward, just enough so he could press his lips to her shoulder. Touching the tip of his tongue to her skin, he reveled in the sound of her breath catching with pleasure. She tasted salty and sweet. Innocent. Pure. A delicate shudder passed through her, and she turned her head toward him. Her lips were parted and swollen, as though she'd been worrying them with her teeth. The thick drift of her lashes was still lowered over her gaze. "My lord?" she said in a whispered plea. "Do you enjoy the feel of my hands on your body?" "Yes." He kept one hand pressed to her lower back as he stepped around to her side, where he could better observe her full reactions. His other hand slid over her hip and across the gentle curve of her belly. Her body quivered. "Are you afraid?" he asked as he moved to cup her full breast in his hand. "Yes," she replied in a weakened voice. Her spine softened, and her chin lowered by a fraction. "But I love the way you frighten me.”

“Lily, I..." Her entire body jolted at the sound of her name in his rough tone. There was a deep plea in his voice. Withe her emotions thick in her throat, she turned to look at him. He had risen to his feet and stood there so strong and stern. The rhythm of his breath had slowed, and the strength of his body was undeniable. But it was his vulnerability of spirit that struck her in that moment. He pressed his mouth into a hard line before he cleared his throat and began again. "Believe me, Lily, I want you to touch me." His words were heavy with need. Yes. He desired her- she knew that much to be true.”

“Pendragon had been the first person to accept his condition without judgement, but Avenell wanted so much more than acceptance from Lily. The feel of her body in his hands, her skin like warmed silk under his lips, had been intense. He had never experienced a woman's body the way he had Lily's, as though every bit of her was magic. Her softness and quiet strength had inspired him to a tenderness he had not known he possessed. The scent of the sweet jasmine and earthy sandalwood of his perfume mingled flawlessly on her body. On every inhale he had drawn her essence in with his breath, and his blood had heated dangerously.”

“Tell me what you feel," he demanded. "Right now, in this moment." Her arms flexed as she pulled against the rope around her wrists, stopping just shy of loosening the restraint. She licked her lips, and her gaze fell to travel hotly over his bared chest and abdomen. And then lower to where his painful erection jutted fiercely from the shadow of his groin. His entire body tensed when her attention seemed to lock on that part of his body. "I am on fire from the inside out," she whispered in a husky tone. "I feel desperate and frantic. As though I am fighting for my life." She brought her gaze back to his face. "And only you have the power to save me." She arched her body, lifting her breasts and rolling her hips. "Please, my lord. Kiss me," she sighed in a quiet demand. Kiss her? He wanted to consume her. In that breathless moment, her gaze seemed to contain all the mysteries of life and death. Mysteries he wanted desperately to explore... until he acknowledged with an intense stab of regret that a woman like Lily would not reveal the depths of her heart unless she could expect reciprocation in kind. Avenell would never know the beautiful secrets she kept. But he could know this. The sigh she breathed as he lowered his head toward hers. The silken texture and lush softness of her lips beneath his. The sweetness of her tongue, the sharp edge of her teeth. The way he so quickly and easily lost himself in the languid exploration of her mouth. She arched more deeply toward him. The peaks of her breasts pressed into his chest. He tensed at the rise in sensations but did not pull away. The kiss took priority over all else. Her tongue played fiercely against his, and her teeth scraped along his lower lip, demanding more of him. Her body melted as her moans and sweet whimpers fanned the fire burning hot inside him. She strained beneath him, arching deeper, pressing harder toward him. It was the deepest pleasure.”

“The gossips are saying you have melted the ice of my heart," he said. His voice was smooth and rich as he patiently worked the buttons on the back of her gown. She bit her lip to hold back the unexpected rush of desire through her system. She shook her head. "Your heart was never frozen. In fact, it was the fire inside you that lured me." She smiled. "Like a moth to your flame.”

“Eve's heart swelled with gratitude for her friend's staunch loyalty, but it was important to her that they fully understand... I think he wanted to allow me the freedom to decide my own path...He's showing me that he understands that how important it is for me to have my family & friends again. By leaving, he's honoring the possibility that I might choose not to return to the valley. When I join him, it will be because it's solely my desire to do so.”

“I love the quiet beauty of the night sky," she continued thoughtfully, "filled with mystery and starlight, but there is something magical about the dawn. It is strange, When the sky begins to lighten and soft colors first appear, the transition is so gentle you hardly notice it. But if you are aware enough to observe, if you take the time to really be a part of the transformation, it feels..." Her explanation trailed off. She found it difficult to find the words to properly describe the wonder she felt as she experienced the very common daily occurrence. "It feels like it possesses all the possibilities of life," Avenell offered quietly. Lily turned in place. She slipped her arms around his naked torso and tipped her head back to look into his face. Her smile was so wide her cheeks ached, but she did not hold back. Her joy in the past few months had grown by leaps and bounds, and only because of how much she had seen her happiness reflected in the man she loved. Love flowed freely between them as he lowered his head to take her mouth in a kiss that was slow and deep.”

“Inside, on a bed of black velvet, lay an exquisite perfume bottle designed from rose-colored glass caged in a silver overlay that twined about the glass like living vines. In the very center of the oval shaped bottle, the silver was formed into the image of a lily in full bloom. It was likely the most precious and expensive gift Lily had ever been given. She ran her fingertips over the delicate silver work before lifting the bottle from its velvet bed to allow the candlelight to shine through the rose-colored glass. She noticed then a folded slip of paper still in the box. Setting the perfume bottle in the valley of her lap, she lifted the paper and broke the tiny wax seal. In his precise, slanted script, Lord Harte had written: I was unforgivably remiss in not having a gift for you the other night. I chose the elements for this blend myself. It made me think of you. Lily brushed her thumb over the ink before setting the note back into the box. Then she shifted the bottle and removed the glass stopper. The scent wafting from the bottle was light, but heady. She noticed first the rich notes of clove and honey before her senses were claimed by the smooth, velvety scent of jasmine. Lily closed her eyes, allowing the aromatic infusion to settle into her awareness. There was another element hidden deep within the perfume. A layer of earthiness that warmed her blood. Sandalwood. Lily was enthralled. It was a complex and lovely scent. Floral and exotic, light and dark. Impossibly sensual. And it made him think of her. Something deep and fundamental spread through her core, and she understood why young ladies were warned so often not to accept gifts from gentlemen. It was a personal and intimate thing to acknowledge how he had wanted her to have something he chose himself.”

“Just that slightest bit of her attention sent liquid fire through his veins, and he wondered what it would feel like for her to watch him while he placed his hands on her body. To let her touch him in return... His skin buzzed violently at the thought. Since first laying eyes on Miss Chadwick, he had been disturbed by his fierce attraction. She had gotten into his blood. The very depths of him. This girl who stared at him so candidly and made him yearn for the slide of her fingers over his skin despite what he knew would follow. This gentle young woman who told him so guilelessly that she wanted him to claim her.”

“He couldn't resist her. He didn't want to. In torturously slow degrees, he lowered his head toward hers. Every sense, every nerve in his body was focused on the next few moments. He knew he would want to savor the memory of this, the first time he had kissed Lily. He pressed his lips to hers gently at first, not knowing what to expect. But even such a light touch sent a swift rush of sensation through him. It was unlike anything he had ever known. Delicate and passionate at once. The silken texture of her lips, her pliant softness, the little moan that caught in her throat. It stunned him. Stopped his breath and jolted his heart. Intent upon exploring this new experience, he shifted the pressure of his mouth, brushing his lips across hers before he flicked his tongue out to touch just the center of her bottom lip. Her lips parted on a sudden exhale. Her warm breath mingled with his. Something more than desire coursed through his blood. He lifted his hands to grasp her shoulders, and with a groan, he crushed her mouth with his. A voice in his head demanded he slow down, relish the sensations. But he was too desperate to know more. He tilted his head, craving the taste of her as though it could save his soul. He swept his tongue past her teeth, sliding it into the recesses of her mouth. She tasted of innocence and shadows, and he was ravenous for her. It shocked him- that desperate, obsessive need to consume her, to take all that she was into himself. To make what was hers, his. Her breath, her taste, her softness, and her need.”

“There was so much heat. So much tenderness in the way her body accepted his. Encompassing, consuming, drawing on his final reserves. It was a sensation unlike anything he could have imagined. Finally, he could take no more. Tensing his buttocks, he gave one long thrust and drove deeply into her core. His jaw clenched, and a guttural moan caught in his throat. He nearly closed his eyes in an instinctive urge to contain the fierce rush of pleasure, but he could not look away from Lily's face. The tip of her tongue pressed delicately against the top row of her parted teeth as she gasped for breath. It was the only reaction she gave to the rending of her maidenhead. While he felt as though he had trespassed into nirvana. Being inside her, fully encased in her warmth, was more powerful a feeling than he had ever expected. It was possession and surrender at once. Each ragged breath he drew as he remained still and focused on managing the overwhelming stimulation only made his body crave more. As stunning and intimate as it was to feel so connected with Lily, there was an undeniable force within him, demanding he take them both to the limit of what they could endure. He knew he should wait, allow her body to adjust to his intrusion, but he couldn't. He had been reduced to nothing but a primitive urge to finally, finally explore the bone-deep pleasure of being joined with this woman. And it was pleasure, he realized in awe. Full, encompassing, undeniable pleasure. The flashes of pain across his affected nerves were not nearly enough to distract from the beauty of everything else he felt.”

“Lily Chadwick knew there was something different about the fiercely scowling gentleman the first moment she saw him. She could feel it. The instant their gazes met, caught, held, something skittered across her skin like a rain of white sparks. It entered her bloodstream, heating her from the inside until her breath became stilted and her knees went alarmingly weak. He stared at her from beneath a brow drawn low in a forbidding expression. His eyes were so dark, even the light of the glittering ballroom could not be reflected there. The angles of his face were hard, his jaw sharply defined, and he held his mouth in a harsh line that attempted to harden the full curve of his lower lip but didn't quite manage it. Lily tried to glance away demurely, but she couldn't seem to manage. She felt a flutter that became a tightening in her belly. Her heart stopped, skipped a few beats, then started up again in a frantic rhythm as he just kept watching her. Despite his severe, aloof appearance, something about him reached out to her, touching her with an intrinsic sort of recognition. It left her feeling as though she stood in the heart of a firestorm. She sensed with a certainty beyond rational explanation that his unyielding manner was a facade, as if he were a hero in some gothic novel. There was passion in him. She felt it in every quickened, prey-like breath she took while frozen under his intent stare. The silent interaction between them was becoming more inappropriate by the minute, yet she could not compel herself to break away. As though caught in an invisible trap, she stared back at him while her hands began to sweat and her stomach trembled.”

“She refused to feel guilty for not talking to Portia about the Earl of Harte. She couldn't discuss what she didn't understand, and she had no idea what to think of the man with the forbidding gaze. Avenell Slade. Lily snuggled deeper beneath her blankets. She loved the way his name felt moving through her mind. It was sharp and smooth at the same time. Dark and light. Lily knew she was no great beauty. She did not have Portia's dramatic dark hair or flashing eyes. Nor did she have Emma's commanding presence. She did her best to be content with her place among her exceptional sisters. But now, after experiencing Lord Harte's painful slight, she found herself wishing she stood out more, that she was somehow more attractive, more striking. She should forget him. Put him completely from her mind. He had made it infinitely clear he did not welcome her interest. Yet, she wanted to know him. It was that simple and that impossible. A hollowness spread from Lily's center. It was a sensation she had experienced more than once since she had begun her foray into the marriage market. It was the fear that what she sought might never be found- that the kind of deep passion she yearned for existed only in sordid novels. As thoughts of Lord Harte continued to agitate her mind and created a growing restlessness in her body, Lily imagined an often-read scene from one of her favorite stories. It was frighteningly easy to cast the enigmatic Lord Harte in the role of dark seducer, but she struggled to envision herself as the intrepid heroine. Lily did not possess a bold bone in her body. By nature, she had always been rather shy and had never been able to cultivate the kind of self-confidence her sisters possessed. Though she may crave the passionate experiences she read about, she did not possess the courage to explore such things beyond the privacy of her mind.”

“Tell me you did not spend all those nights with her and never spread her thighs to claim your prize.” A growl of fury rumbled from his chest at the crudity in her words, but the sound did not seem to bother Pendragon one bit. She actually laughed at his response. “Of course you did, my lord, as I knew you would. It was the final barrier you had yet to cross in your search for pleasure.” “It signifies nothing.” Her green eyes glittered. “It means everything.” The woman turned away from him and strode toward the chair he had recently vacated. With a swish of her skirts, she turned and lowered herself gracefully. Tipping her head, she looked at him with a superior little half smile. “What did you feel when you took possession of your gentle maiden?” Her words might have been mocking if not for her expression, which had settled into one of patient nonjudgemnet. It was the same way she had looked at him the first time he had gone to her. “Think carefully. What did you feel?” Avenell’s gut tensed as he involuntarily recalled the sensations of being burned within Lily’s warmth and softness. He relived in his mind the way their naked bodies moved together, heard her endless gasps and moans echo, felt the overwhelming heat, the pervading pleasure. Every time they came together it was intense and consuming, obliterating everything else in existence. That was the problem. He always felt too much with her. And despite that, he had never been able to shake his yearning for more.”

“But she noticed something interesting. His hands. They stretched tensely then curled into tight fists before extending again, the pattern repeating over and over as he walked away. After he climbed into the darkness of the vehicle and waited for the footman to close the door behind him, he looked up at her from the deep shadows. The angles of his face were hard and forbidding, his mouth set in a firm line, but his eyes... They focused in on her, consuming her despite the distance between them. Lily's lips parted to draw a swift breath. The flame inside her fanned to a full blaze. She could swear she saw a sort of hunger in his eyes.”

“He saw the fear in Miss Chadwick's unfocused eyes and the bright spark of rebellion. In the next moment, Miss Chadwick's wavering gray gaze found him in the far reaches of the room. And when her eyes locked with his, she refused to let go. He could no more look away from her than he could unleash the moon from its orbit. There was only one thing he could do. Speaking in a loud, clear tone, he entered the fray with a firmly stated offer that nearly tripled the last bid. His competition turned to glare at him for how suddenly he had brought an end to the entertainment. No one was willing to top such an exorbitant price. Avenell ignored them all. He was far too busy battling an intense internal war between disgust at what she had been subjected to and an alarming thread of triumph. Because no matter how they had both ended up here, no matter how wrong this all was... the woman who had been tormenting him for weeks now belonged to him.”

“She took a long drink and then another before lowering the glass. She thought she heard him give a sound of approval before he turned and claimed a seat in one of the chairs. Her courage strengthened, Lily lifted her chin to look at him only a few feet away and swallowed hard past the knot of doubt lodged in her throat. Dressed in elegant evening wear, he sat with his back stiff and straight despite the plush cushion of the chair. His knees were spread and his feet braced squarely on the floor. His hands, with his long masculine fingers, splayed on the surface of strong thighs. He was the epitome of masculine sophistication and mystery. Dark, enigmatic, handsome, and intense.”

“As if he knew what she had experience, he dipped his chin and continued to stare at her from beneath heavy brows. "Your breasts are very sensitive." Lily knew it must be so, because his very mention of them made her nipples tighten even more, her breasts heavy and aching. She loved the way his rich, masculine voice made her body melt and her thoughts go languid. "I promise to discover just how sensitive they can be," he added thickly. "You are very beautiful." Something squeezed tight in her chest. "I am... quite ordinary." A new darkness shadowed his features, and it was unlike the hunger with which she was becoming familiar. "You are far from ordinary.”

“Her manner was unhurried, though he noted a trembling in her hands. Her calm composure was as much a facade as his aloof demeanor. He was discovering a complexity to her nature that had not been evident in their earliest interactions. She was far more than she appeared to be: reserved, yet fearless in a way he could not have anticipated. Modest and sensual at once. In possession of a quiet confidence that was layered within everything she did.”

“Entering the room, Lily was struck by the changes that had been wrought since she had last been there on the night of her abduction. Though his massive four-poster bed remained, the coverings were now a mixture of midnight blue and a mysterious smoky gray. In fact, various shades of gray had been added throughout the room. The two heavy leather chairs had been beautifully reupholstered in a dove-gray damask, a plush rug in a light and misty color was laid before the fireplace, and on a delicate table between them stood a large vase of lilies, infusing the room with their delicate scent. "Do you see?" the earl asked from behind her. Once they entered the bedroom, he had released her hand to close the door, ensconcing them together in the private space. Lily turned to watch him walk toward one of the new chairs. He ran his fingers over the fabric. "The color of your eyes when you are quiet and content," he stated in a low voice, then he crossed to the bed where he smoothed his palm over a velvet coverlet. "This is the darker shade your eyes become when you are aroused- with emotion or desire." He looked at her, and Lily's world expanded on a sudden breath at what she saw in the depth of his gaze. They both seemed rooted in place, standing in the center of his bedroom, staring at each other with their breaths coming fast and their focus locked upon each other, as though they were equally afraid the other might disappear. "You exist in everything. You have become a part of me," he murmured thickly. "I cannot breathe without you.”

“Keeping his arms wrapped around her, Avenell stood and lifted her. He crossed to the bed in long strides and carefully settled them beneath the covers. He drew her against his side. She laid her hand gently over his belly, and he covered it with his own, keeping her there. Though the sensitivity of his nerves was returning by slow but inexorable degrees, it could not disrupt his desire to hold her. To feel her heartbeat against his rib cage and the waft of her breath over his skin. "I love you, Lily." His low-spoken words blended seamlessly with the rhythm of their breathing, but he knew she had heard him when she pressed her lips to his skin.”

“I hate it that you went through that. You must have been so frightened, so hurt by your father's actions... I wish I could take all the pain away." He took her hand in his and brought her fingertips to his lips. "You do, Lily. With every smile and every touch, you sweep it out of existence. I am sorry it took me so long to see that. I am sorry I hurt you before I understood." She shook her head to stop him and rose up to press her lips sweetly to his. He would have allowed the kiss to deepen, but he had not finished all he wished to say. Curling his fingers around the back of her neck, he urged her to lift her head. As her lips hovered a breath above his and her smoky gaze looked deep into his soul, he murmured, "I love you, Lily. Promise to love me forever, and I swear I will devote myself to your happiness. Marry me, Lily." She smiled. "This promise will be far easier than the others you asked of me. Nothing would make me happier than to be your wife.”

“But for now, you are only mine," she said a bit more fiercely than she had intended. "And I am not ready to share you with them all just yet." His low laugh, which had been coming more easily lately, rolled freely from his throat as he brought her back into his arms. "Yet, you force meto share you," he stated. "You realize that once we are married, I will be able to take you away on a grand honeymoon. It will be just the two of us. Not only for the darkest hours of the night," he murmured suggestively as his hands began to roam up and down the length of her back, inciting delicious shivers. He lowered his head beside hers to tease the sensitive skin of her neck with his lips and breath. "But all day, as well. Through sunrise, midday, and dusk. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner." Lily sighed, melting into him. Her hands reached around to grasp his buttocks, and she pressed her lips to his bare shoulder before asking, "Can we take all of our meals to bed?" His laughter was deep, rolling, and infectious as he stepped away. "I had better get you home, or I shall make another meal of you.”

“She stared critically at her reflection in the mirror above her dressing table, studying her features in a way she had never done before. Lifting her chin, she looked first this way then that, trying to identify what it was Lord Harte saw in her as desirable. She was so dreadfully ordinary. Medium brown hair parted in the middle. Muted gray eyes that did not snap with determination and intelligence like Emma's or glitter with mystery and excitement like Portia's. A straight nose with a base she always thought was a bit too wide. A common enough chin, cheekbones that were nicely defined, and rather straight brown eyebrows beneath a high forehead.”