Page 67 of Raising the Duke’s Unexpected Twins

CHAPTER 22

“Christ.” Nicholas wanted to swear a whole string of words as he folded his one hand under his head and together, he and Cordelia looked up at the canopy above. Nicholas’s whole body was tingling, and he felt exhausted and spent in a delicious sort of way. His other arm was under Cordelia, and he pulled her close to him, savoring the feel of her soft cheek on his shoulder, and her hand on his stomach.

It was the best lovemaking he had ever had. That was all that was to it, and he blinked a few times, wondering if he was still in a dream.

Cordelia was…incandescent.

The way she had looked at him in amazement when he’d removed his clothing had nearly undone him right there and then, but making love to her had been a pleasure and satisfaction beyond anything he’d ever experienced. He was reeling, and he could feel more than just the slaking of his body.

He liked her. He more than liked her, and being with her had felt good. Too good.

“So, you always thought I was delectable, did you?” she asked in a teasing tone, and he smiled down at her, glad to be free of his own thoughts for a time.

“So I did, and me teasing you and riling you up always put a lovely color to your cheeks and made you even lovelier.”

She gasped in outrage and hit his stomach. “Oh! You rogue! Was that why you always angered me so?”

“But of course. A rake is still a rake, even though he must change his methods from woman to woman.”

“Cad,” she muttered, and he chuckled.

“And you are just as delectable as I imagined.” He squeezed the flesh of her side, and he slid down to pull a nipple into his mouth again. He could feel his body stir and her soft intake of breath told him she would be ready for more, but he refrained and laid back again. “I would only be too happy to take you again, my dear, but you may be a little sore tomorrow. We have all the time we need.”

Do we?

In fact, they were married, and so they had the rest of their lives. He was surprised at the delight it gave him, to have the privilege of bedding Cordelia again and again, but he quickly quelled it, covering it instead by a cold fear that he needed to hold onto if he was going to hold onto his senses.

“Tell me something before you leave,” Cordelia said, cuddling into him a little, her voice sleepy.

You think I will leave you? He wanted to ask. Even with his fear and growing tension, he was disappointed in her thoughts of him. He wanted to chastise himself, but he had conditioned his wife to believe he would continue to leave, and he had never stayed a full night with a woman before, always returning home no matter how late in the evening or early in the morning.

She continued. “Well, you have your own room, I thought only –” her eyes moved away from him, and he kissed her on the head.

“Ask what you like.”

He kept his eyes fixed forward. It was far easier to give her what she wanted for a little before he let the fear take over him entirely.

“I have heard about your father. But now I’d like to know about your mother.”

Nicholas breathed in through his nose, keeping his jaw tight. “I never met her, as you know. She died at my birth, and my father was never the same, so they say, that he’d been joyous and kind before. But all I knew was a cold, hard man.” Cordelia said nothing, and he could feel her expectantly waiting. “But I’ve heard from Mrs. Wright and other older staff that she was a good and kind woman.”

So often as a child, he’d tried to conjure an image of her in his mind, wondering just exactly how she might have looked. There had been portraits about, so Mrs. Wright had said, but his father had had them removed at her death.

“What did she look like?” she asked him, as if guessing his thoughts.

“I can’t be sure, but I know she had dark hair like me. Blue eyes too.”

He swallowed, not wishing to discuss this anymore. Couldn’t they go back to when she was coming so beautifully in his arms and crying out his name? Couldn’t they return to the surface and keep away from anything else?

“It was not your fault, you know.”

Nicholas stiffened, his arm tightening around Cordelia, but he did not look at her. “What do you mean?”

“Her death. It was not your fault, and I’m sorry that your father ever made it seem so.”

Nicholas shook his head slightly. “There was something wrong with my birth, my father said. I was positioned wrong, and I couldn’t spring free before she bled out.”

“And yet, that still was not your fault.”