bodies touched, then raised his gaze to hers. “Why me?”
“Why you?” She didn’t hide the bemusement from her voice.
“Why did you choose me to be your first?” A hint of mystery shadowed his eyes.
“Because … because it felt right. It was you.”
He blinked slowly. That’s when she saw the uncertainty there.
Katherine reached and smoothed his brow, not taking her eyes from his, willing him to see the truth. “You make me feel that in a crowded room with a thousand others, I’m the only person there.” She cupped both of his cheeks, not allowing him to look away. “I’ve never had someone see me that way in my entire life. I trust you.”
He studied her face for a long time without saying a word. “Thank you for telling me,” he said softly. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.
Only with him did such a sweet, tender kiss let her hope … let her believe that the scars she carried for all those years could be mended. She’d shared a part of herself tonight—how he made her feel—because she trusted him.
And he was the only man she would ever want to build a life with.
Then the truth hit her square in the chest.
Her traitorous heart, the one she’d taught to be careful around unrequited love, hadn’t protested a peep when the inevitable had happened.
She hadn’t simply fallen in love with Christian.
Oh no.
She’d jumped off the highest cliff.
Chapter Twenty
Drained physically from their coupling, Christian flipped on his back. Katherine curled into him and he wrapped his arm around her. Within seconds, their breathing fell into a natural rhythm with each other. For several long moments, they lay there in silence. It felt perfect to have her here beside him. For the world, he’d like nothing more but to hold her and make love to her again, but they had things to discuss.
He turned on his side to face her. Resting his head on his bent arm, he studied her. With his free hand, he reached for hers resting by her side, then entwined their fingers together. “Are you sorry you married him?”
“Yes.” She turned to face him. “But by marrying him, I was accepted by society. And with that, my business grew.”
“A mercenary, I see,” he teased.
“Is that how you see me?” Her mouth threaded into a frown. “An accurate description, perhaps.”
“I see you as a brave and accomplished woman.” His gaze traveled over her lithe figure. He could take her again right now. She was every man’s dream. Lush breasts that fit perfectly in his hands. Sweet lips. And when she wrapped her arms around him, he felt acceptance. No slights, no judgments, just warmth. She was the light that guided him home.
“You have every right to use the Vareck name to your advantage.” He tugged her hand to his lips. “I can’t imagine the pain you felt when he left.”
“I was delighted we’d married.” Her voice had turned incredibly gentle. “I thought we’d have a simple but happy life together. It was what I wanted in my marriage. I thought there was a chance we’d find love for each other. I’d have a husband who wanted to be with me. We’d have a family. That’s all I desired.”
The wistfulness in her voice held him spellbound. It wasn’t his half brother she was mourning but her ideal of marriage.
“After he finished the wedding breakfast, Meriwether told me he had business in Portsmouth that couldn’t wait. He had his eye on a racehorse that he thought to purchase.” She anchored her gaze on the fireplace. “That’s when I knew…”
“That’s when you knew he was a wastrel?” Christian scooted closer to her.
“No.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “That he was leaving me for good. I couldn’t acknowledge it. I didn’t even try to stop him. But I used my married name for everything. He’d at least given me that.”
“His mother was the same way, and so was our father.”
Her gaze drifted back to his. “What do you mean?”
“Disingenuous profligates. The worst of the worst. Meri’s mother was my father’s mistress.” He practically spit the words. “Actually, disingenuous is too kind of a term for them. After they married, the parties they hosted made a bacchanalia look like an afternoon garden party. Their orgies were legendary throughout all of London. When I went to Eton, my fellow students would regale me with tales of my stepmother’s sexual conquests of their fathers. When we became older, those same students told of