“Ye are a vision, lass. One that I swear I dreamed of every moment that we were separated.”

Jemma reached for her hair and began to comb her fingers through the strands. Gordon settled on his knees in front of her, his gaze centered on her fingers as they slid through her hair. His cock stood erect with its ruby head swollen, and her passage felt wet for it, but there was no pressing urgency. Instead there was an enjoyment of the building heat.

Jemma finished freeing her hair, and he reached out to grasp a handful. He allowed the strands to rest in his palm for a long moment before leaning forward to inhale their fragrance.

“I adore the way ye smell, lass.”

He pushed her back, nuzzling and kissing the tender skin at her neck.

“Everywhere.”

His lips traveled to her collarbone and then down to her chest. His hands smoothed up from her waist to cup her breasts, and his lips captured one nipple. She gasped, stretching out across the bed. Pleasure streamed through her, feeding the heat that flickered in her passage. His tongue flicked across the hard point her nipple had become before he began licking his way toward her opposite point. He didn’t hurry, and the hard nipple tightened with excitement as she felt his warm lips nearing it. She whimpered when he closed his lips around her breast, her back arching to offer it to his mouth. He sucked harder, and she gasped when need speared through her.

But he left the tender spot soon and trailed his kisses across her stomach.

Jemma shivered, unable to control the urge to spread her thighs. She craved the pleasure she knew he could give her with his lips. There was no thought given to right or wrong, there was only the yearning burning inside her.

“Ah, and the sweetest place of all.”

Gordon pushed her thighs farther apart, the folds of her sex opening to expose her clitoris. His thumb brushed across the little point, drawing a sharp sound from her lips. The next contact was slightly firmer and longer, his thumb rubbing in several tiny circles before it traced the center of her sex down to the opening of her passage. He toyed with it, inserting his thumb for several long seconds and sending need racing through her.

“I could spend hours listening to the sound ye make when I’m pleasuring ye.”

Her cheeks pinkened slightly, and he chuckled because he was watching her from between her open thighs. He moved his thumb back up to her clitoris and began rubbing it again.

“I confess that I could listen to ye whimper like that for hours.”

Jemma hissed at him. His lips twitched up into a mischievous grin.

“But I agree that what we both crave isn’t exactly this.”

He rose up from between her legs, and her attention lowered to the length of his member. Her passage craved it, the walls feeling empty and needy. She lifted her arms in invitation, and his lips thinned, his expression becoming intense.

“I’ve dreamed of seeing ye issue that invitation, sweet lass.” He settled his weight over her, the head of his cock pressing against the opening to her passage. “But the reality is far better than anything my mind teased me with.”

His mouth claimed hers in a hard kiss. Urgency fueled his lips, and she met him with equal longing. His hips pressed forward, his hard flesh tunneling into her sheath. She clasped her hands around his neck, whimpering again with the sheer amount of sensation that filled her. He pushed deeply into her passage, and her hips lifted to meet him. They worked together perfectly, passion commanding them both. Pleasure was building inside her, tightening and threatening to release far too soon. She could see the passion on his face, too, and she watched his eyes battle to hold it back, but to no avail. His thrusts became harder and faster, and she kept pace with him, as eager for the release as he. The pleasure built until it broke, and the moment that it took control of her she felt his cock begin spurting its hot seed against the mouth of her womb.

Her lungs froze between breaths, and every muscle drew taut while the pleasure ruled her. It ran from her belly out to her toes and fingertips and then back to her belly without stopping. Only when it landed deep inside her did she draw breath again, gasping to fill her burning lungs. Gordon shuddered on top of her, his arms holding just enough of his weight to keep her from being crushed.

“Too fast.”

He rolled over and pulled her along with him. “ ’Twas too quickly done, lass.”

He gathered her close, and she laid her head on his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat.

“We have plenty of time to perfect our timing.”

But did they have enough time for love to grow? Many men never loved; it was a cruel fact. Tears stung her eyes and he shifted, placing a finger beneath her chin to raise it when he felt the wetness against his chest. Jemma resisted, keeping her head lowered.

“Why do ye cry, lass?” There was emotion in his voice, such deep caring that more tears spilled from her eyes and she felt guilty for them, but that did not grant her the ability to contain them.

He cupped her chin and raised it. “For I can nae bear it, those tears. Nae from the woman I love.”

She stiffened, sitting up to slap a hand over her mouth to contain the sound that erupted from her lips. Gordon followed her, reaching out to grasp her with one solid arm around her waist. Her temper suddenly lit, and she balled up one fist and hit him. But she was so close she did little damage to his shoulder, so she lifted her hand and hit him again.

“You never spoke of love, not when I declared myself to you.” She struggled, but he held her tight. “Beast. Was three words so much to ask for when my life might have ended before I heard them from your lips?”

“That is why I didna tell ye.”

“Ohh . . . Toad! Release me.”

He rolled onto his back, his amusement bouncing off the canopy above the bed. His hands captured her and pulled her down on top of him. But he rolled over to pin her down where he could clasp the sides of her head and keep her face where his gaze might connect with hers.

“I didna tell ye because I could nae bear the thought that ye might consider yer life complete. I wanted ye to have something to fight for, something to wake up for, lass. Ye have a spirit that refuses to surrender, and I was willing to use that to gain ye back.”

She hit him again, but he only smiled.

“But ’twas the sweetest thing that I ever heard, those words from yer lips.”

“I may never repeat them. It would be your just reward for allowing me to worry about your feelings. You miserable toad.”

“I was miserable.” Deep emotion flickered in his eyes, and it touched her heart. There was no missing the tenderness there, looking straight into her eyes like a bolt of lightning between them. It was warm and impossible not to love.

“So damn miserable that I believe I would have died if ye did. I never thought it possible that one woman might bring a man to his knees, but ye did, lass. I prayed in the church for hours on my knees, and I’d do it again for ye because I love ye more than I even like myself.”

“Oh, Gordon, you are a fine man.” She reached up to place her hands on his cheeks and he closed his eyes with a soft sound of male enjoyment. “You are the man I love, love so much I cry with it.”

He opened his eyes, and they shimmered with unshed tears, betraying just how sincere he was.

“So are ye saying that ye love toads, lass? Well now, I’ve nae heard that before.”

Jemma scoffed at him. “Good. I like knowing that I am the only woman who loves you.”

“Well I can nae swear to that—” He snorted when she moved her knee and knocked his cock with it. He rolled over and tucked her along his body once again, pressing her head onto his shoulder with a tender hand.

“But I can swear that ye are the only woman that I love.”

A week later . . .

“You look much better.” Justina spoke the words, but her heart was not in them. The woman’s eyes kept shifting to the windows and the clouds darkening the horizon.

“And you appear unhappy.” Jemma stood up and walked across the room. She swore that she was never going to take such a thing for granted again. A week of rest and eating was restoring her strength quite rapidly.

“The last time I was happy was years ago, when I was with my son.” Justina’s blue eyes filled with joy, but she nibbled on her lip when she looked at the dark sky. “Brandon is seven now.”

And it had been a long time since the lady had set eyes upon her child, much less held him.

“Do not pity me. I have spent all of my time in your company with that pity lurking in your eyes. There is nothing perfect about this life. Except for our children. You do not yet know the gift that feeling a life growing inside you is. It is even more precious to know that I can keep my son away from the worries of this world. There is nothing more that I may expect or ask for.”

“There can be.” Jemma walked toward the other woman and placed a hand on her arm. “I have discovered happiness that I never believed could be. You need to open your heart to the possibilities that surround you.”

“You mean Synclair? Oh, yes, that is the worst kept secret at Amber Hill.”

“Must it remain a secret?”

Justina shook off her hand and folded her hands in front of her. It was a perfect pose, one that could have been an oil portrait instead of a living person. Justina reminded her too often of a painting with her delicate motions and polished manners. It was impossible to see into her feelings because she hid them behind a serene expression that never betrayed what she was truly thinking.

“My son enjoys a simple life now. On his father’s estate because I obey Chancellor Wriothesley. If I do not, my son will be brought to court.” Justina’s face drained of color. “With its poisons and lusts. Such a fate would destroy everything good inside him.”