Page 72 of A Remarkable Rogue

No. It had to have been hell. The thought of Nate being tied to a post while one of his fellow officers took a whip to his bare back when he’d only left to be with his wife, to find her already dead and his baby dying—

A tear slipped down her face. She couldn’t hold back her anguish.

“Don’t cry for me, Baroness.” He reached up to gently wipe it away with his thumb. “I don’t deserve your tears.”

“I’m not crying for you,” she whispered as more sobs followed the first. From the softening of his mouth and eyes at that, she knew he didn’t understand and thought she was lying. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t crying in pity but in blinding fury at his commanding officers. They didn’t deserve to have him among their ranks. “Why did you go back, knowing what they would do to you?”

He answered solemnly, “Because I wanted to die.”

Her eyes widened, aghast. Surely, he couldn’t have meant… But when Michael died, she’d wanted to follow him into the grave. Nate undoubtedly felt the same.

“No,” she whispered and slid her hand behind his neck to pull him back down on top of her where he belonged. “No, I won’t let you—”

“Sydney.” Her name was a painful objection. “It was a long time ago. Don’t let it upset you now.”

“But you’re still doing it.” She slapped him on the shoulder with her palm as her anger bubbled to the surface. “Stop it! Stop risking your life so recklessly—”

He caught her hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss it. She inhaled a shuddering breath at the surprisingly affectionate gesture. He had suffered so much, yet even now, he was attempting to comfort her. Her heart ached and swelled, both grieving and caring for him in turns. It was unfathomable how he could make her feel this deeply when only a few weeks ago she barely felt alive at all.

“Don’t be upset.” He placed another kiss in her palm. “I can’t bear it.”

When he touched his lips to hers to soothe away her pain, she had to blink rapidly to keep fresh tears from falling.

She whispered his name and placed her hand against his chest. She needed to feel his heartbeat beneath her fingertips—proof that he was safe and alive. And for the moment, that he was hers.

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear and forced out a crooked grin. “Do you need to be distracted, darling?”

She gave a short laugh through her tears at his bittersweet teasing. She knew he was attempting to turn her attention away from the conversation, just as he always did whenever the topic became too painful for him. This time, though, he did it for her.

He reached for the bottle of port on the bedside table. “Did you know,” he mused as he dribbled drops of the sweet liquor onto her breasts, “that you smell like oranges and cloves?”

She caught her breath at the wet sensation on her warm skin. “I…what?”

He chuckled softly at her bewilderment as he set the bottle aside. He drew his fingertip through the droplets on her left breast to slowly smear them across her flesh. “Which makes me wonder…”

She trembled as he traced over her hard nipple and made it draw up tight. “Wonder what?” she prompted when he fell silent. He’d turned his attention to the right nipple and teased the port over it as he’d done to the left.

“If you also taste like oranges and cloves.”

She moaned as his mouth descended to her breast. His tongue licked along the same slow circle as his fingertip, then lapped at the port still clinging to her skin like a giant cat enjoying a lick of cream.

She dug her fingers through his silky hair and arched her back to lift herself harder against him and deeper into his mouth. The pull of his lips shot through her, and she shivered heatedly all the way down to her toes. He was right. She desperately needed his distractions.

“Sweet Lord, youdotaste like oranges and cloves,” he murmured with feigned incredulity against her breast. When he nuzzled his cheek against her, his midnight beard scraped gently against her sensitive nipple. “Which makes me wonder…”

The wanton inside her made her pant out, “Wonder what?”

“If you taste like oranges and cloves everywhere.”

He slid down the front of her body, nibbling and licking as he went. When he reached the junction of her legs, she surrendered with a sigh and spread herself wide.

He placed his mouth against her, and her sigh transformed into a whimper. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as he kissed her in the most wicked way she could imagine, and she could barely keep still beneath his teasing lips and tongue. The intimate kisses he gave her were unlike anything she’d ever known. What he was doing to her was scandalous, wanton, wicked…and oh so very,verygood.

He teased at her with his mouth and took swirling licks across her damp folds. She ached for more, so much that she shook beneath his ministrations. Every time his mouth grazed against that most sensitive point buried in her folds, she thought she would burst with pleasure.

Then the kisses changed, becoming harder and deeper…hungrier. His tongue plunged into her. A shuddering gasp tore from her lips, and she lifted her hips off the mattress to meet each thrilling thrust of his tongue inside her.

When she could hardly bear the feel of his mouth against her any longer, his name emerged as a soft plea for mercy on her lips. He answered her cry by closing his mouth around her aching nub and sucking hard.