‘I have not been pining for him,’ she snapped. ‘I have made every effort to be a good wife to you, just as you deserved.’

He snorted. ‘I got what I deserved, all right. A woman beautiful, passionate, and in mourning for the man she had given up. But willing to do her duty to the husband she never wanted. I am not sorry for what I did to get you. I would do it again to have even a day with you in my arms, though your heart was divided. But, believe me, I paid the price.’ He looked at her again, his eyes strange and sad. ‘For I will always wonder what it would have been like had you loved me first.’

As he spoke, it sounded as though something was over. Which was strange, because perhaps nothing had ended at all.

‘I cannot tell you what might have been,’ she said. ‘I only know that my future does not lie with Tremaine, no matter the past.’

Harry looked at her with a slow, hot smile that made her insides melt.

‘And what do you mean to do tomorrow?’ He pulled her a little closer, and her body shocked her with remembrance.

‘Tomorrow?’

‘Yes, tomorrow. If you mean to leave both me and Tremaine, and find another lover, it will have to wait for morning. I have plans for you tonight.’

‘Harry, it is barely noon.’ Her breath came out in a little squeak. It surprised her, for it sounded almost as if she was frightened by her mild milquetoast of a husband.

‘I am well aware of the fact. For now, it is you and me and the library fire, my love. And, by God, if you go out through that door tomorrow morning, I will see to it that you remember what you have left.’ Then he pushed her back to the door and kissed her so hard that she thought her lips must bruise.

‘Harry,’ she gasped, when he allowed her a moment to breathe.

‘Indeed.’ He was after the hooks on her gown, pulling until she felt them give.

‘Stop it this instant. This is my best dress.’

‘I will buy you another.’ She heard the faint pop of seams and the rip of lace and silk as he pushed the dress down to her waist and ran his tongue along the tops of her breasts, where they peeked over her stays, before setting to work on the laces at her back.

She slapped at his hands, trying to slow his progress, for desire was rising in her again. ‘At least let us go upstairs to my room.’

His hands froze, and he looked up from his work. ‘If you like your bedroom so well, then I will allow you to return to it. Tomorrow. But today I mean to have you, here and now, in whatever way I care to.’

She swallowed, and felt her knees go weak as another wave hit her. She let out a shaky sigh before saying, ‘Suppose someone discovers us?’

‘The door is locked.’ He plunged a hand beneath her skirts and stroked between her legs, and then laughed in triumph because there was no way for her to hide the evidence of her desire.

‘But they might hear.’

He stroked again, and slipped a finger into her, making her moan. ‘I expect they will.’ And he settled his mouth over a nipple and thrust again with his hand, harder and faster, until she shuddered and groaned his name.

He raised his head to look at her, critically, but with a small smile playing about his lips. ‘There. That is how I prefer you. Unable to argue with me.’

It was difficult to argue when her body was crying for more. But, since he was growing more passionate with each objection she raised, she found the strength to disagree. ‘Do not think you can persuade me so easily, Harry Pennyngton. I have no intention of giving you your way in this. Unlock the door and let me go.’

‘She has found her tongue again,’ he murmured. ‘A sharp tongue, but a pretty mouth.’ And he kissed her again, biting at her lips and taking what little sense she had left. Then he scooped her legs out from under her and carried her into the room.

She kicked. ‘Put me down this instant.’

He dropped her onto the chaise longue and stood over her, undoing his cravat. ‘You are down. Stay where you are while I get out of these blasted clothes. And know this: if you run, I will catch you.’

As she watched him undress, her heart was pounding so that she feared she would dissolve into ecstasy before he had even touched her. ‘If you do not stop this instant I shall scream.’

He was grinning now. ‘I certainly hope so-eventually.’ He threw his jacket down beside her and pulled his shirt over his head. ‘Our guests will find it the most diverting entertainment of the year, but it will not dissuade me from what I mean to do.’

She propped herself up on her elbows and made to swing her legs onto the floor. But he blocked her, and she kicked at his knee with her slipper. ‘Harry, be reasonable.’

He glanced down at her as he stripped off the last of his clothing. ‘I have tried for five long years to be reasonable, Elise. And today reason fails me.’ Then he knelt on the chair, with his legs straddling her, caught her hands in his and pinned them to the cushion beside her head.

She had to admit that it was difficult, under the circumstances, to maintain a level head. He was poised at the entrance of her body, and she lifted her hips to greet him as he plunged into her.

He gave a long, slow stroke that was so good it made her gasp, then leaned away to look at her, trapped beneath him. ‘There-that is more like it.’

‘This changes nothing,’ she said, but the words came out in short pants as he thrust again.

‘You are the one who wishes change, not I.’ His breathing was barely laboured, but she could see a sheen of sweat glowing on his body. ‘For my part, you are perfect just as you are.’

She groaned. ‘You say that now. But when we are clothed you will say nothing at all.’

‘How would you know what I say, since you show no desire to be at my side?’ His thrusts increased their tempo, bordering on violence, and she could feel the pressure building inside her, ready to break. ‘At least when I bed you I know that you are not thinking of another.’

And in truth she could think of nothing at all but him, and what he could do to her. Her body was liquid, hot and wet. Release was moments away. A few more thrusts would send her spinning over the edge. And he knew what he was doing to her, for he had five years’ practice in making her respond. He slowed again and began to withdraw. She bucked her hips under him, trying to deepen the penetration.

And then he gritted his teeth in a pained smile, and said, ‘Speak my name. Tell me that you want me.’

‘Harry,’ she whispered.

He gave a single thrust. ‘Louder.’

‘Harry, please.’ She pushed against him, wriggling her hips.

‘That’s better. Now, tell me there will be no other but me. Tell me, or I swear I will withdraw and leave you unfinished.’

‘You can’t,’ she gasped.

‘I can.’ And he thrust gently, just enough to keep her on edge.

It was so good that she didn’t care what came tomorrow if she could have this moment. ‘Not fair,’ she panted.

‘All’s fair in love and war,’ he muttered against her throat, and thrust into her again.

‘Love.’ He was filling her senses, and she struggled to remember if he had ever used the word to her, even in jest.

He paused again, and then rocked gently against her until she was trembling under him, dying for release. ‘You are the one that wants war, not I. Now, tell me you love me. That you will be mine for always.’

He was moving slowly inside her, awaking every nerve. She struggled to reach for him, but he held her fast. She whipped her head from side to side, until she found his wrist and rubbed her cheek against it, groaning. ‘I am yours, heart and mind and body. Always. Please…’ And she felt her body clench at the words, and then go to pieces in spasms of rapture.

He felt it too, and laughed, then fixed his mouth on hers and smothered her screams of pleasure as he pounded into her body. He fell shaking against her, helpless with the strength of his own release.

When she could catch her breath, she whispered, ‘I do love you, Harry. Truly.’

In response, he released a surprisingly shaky sigh and whispered back, ‘At last. I despaired of ever hearing you admit it. I have loved you to distraction since the first moment I saw you.’

‘You have?’ She could not keep the wonder from her voice.

‘Indeed.’

‘You never said so.’

He laughed. ‘I thought I had made it abundantly clear when we came together.’

‘I knew you were happy with me in that way,’ she whispered.

He groaned. ‘Delighted. Ecstatic. Delirious.’

‘But I thought perhaps a good marriage should be more.’

‘A good marriage is whatever we choose it to be, my darling,’ he whispered back, and kissed her again. ‘And while ours happens to be a very satisfying physical relationship, I feel it is more than that. Do you know how I have missed you since you have been in London? The sound of your voice, the sight of you each morning at breakfast, the little things you did to bring joy to my life every single day. My only regret has been that I gained you through trickery. I was afraid that some day you might discover the truth and I would lose you. It seemed as though I was for ever on guard, lest in some impulsive moment I revealed too much. But you left me anyway. The secrecy was for naught.’

He looked worried now that he had told her. Could that have been the great mystery all along? That he had loved her past all honour, since the very first? She felt the thrill of it go through her. And then she relaxed against him for what seemed like the first time. For why did she need to be wary of losing a man who wanted her with such uncontrollable passion? She noticed the way his arm drew her tight, as it always did after they made love, as though he would never let her go. Perhaps it had always been thus and she had never noticed.