The Obsessions of Lord Godfrey - Stephanie Laurens Page 0,79

the one she’d been waiting for, even if she hadn’t realized she was.

Somehow, in just over a week, he’d carved out a niche in her heart and taken up residence.

Abruptly, her thoughts ceased their whirling as one truth—a new truth—took center stage.

This was surely what love felt like—this warmth that suffused one from the inside out at the mere thought of the other person.

She loved him.

She poked at the notion, but it was resilient and strong, immutable and undeniable.

She’d expected such a revelation to have emotional fireworks attached, but no—it simply was.

Was it that, as yet unrecognized by her, that had driven her to his room and his bed?

She hadn’t thought so, but then, at the time, she hadn’t known it was there. And perhaps love was the source of the compulsion she’d felt to knock on his door and see what might be; she’d never been an emotional coward.

Having only just recognized the correct term for what she felt, she hadn’t told him she loved him, but that was all right, wasn’t it? He’d said they would have forever to explore what was between them.

He hadn’t said the word, either, but she’d heard that gentlemen, especially those of his station, tended to avoid it.

Clever of them, she’d always thought. While such avoidance might smack of emotional cowardice, it also indicated a healthy respect for the power wielded by that emotion, and respect for love was no bad thing.

Indeed, if he’d readily professed to feeling that particular emotion, she would have questioned whether he truly did.

But he had spoken of forever…

She frowned. She’d assumed he’d meant marriage, but on replaying his words, she realized that was another word he hadn’t uttered.

He’d spoken of having a life together, of protecting her and hers…

Her thoughts seized. Men of his ilk were often referred to as “protectors” with regard to their mistresses.

He’d specifically offered protection. Was that what he was thinking—that she would be his mistress?

Her thoughts churned. Had she misunderstood?

Uncertainty swamped her, along with a vulnerability that had her eyeing the door. She needed to get away and regroup before she faced him again. If he didn’t want or appreciate her love…she would need to hide it, to screen it from his eyes.

And then she would need to figure out a way to politely decline his forever.

Carefully, she tensed and tried to ease away from him, to lift her leg free of his.

Immediately, the arm about her shoulders tightened, and a large warm palm landed on her thigh, holding that leg where it was, nestled between his.

“Oh no,” he murmured. “You don’t get to slip away in the night, not after that.”

She blinked. He was an experienced lover—that had been obvious; what had been so special about their engagement? Curiosity got the better of her. “That what?”

He turned toward her, his arms settling loosely around her. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted—ever dreamed of—in a lady. You’re passionate and intense and so honest and open. So genuine in all you feel and share—so much more than any other lady I’ve met.”

She lifted her head and looked into his face. His lashes still brushed his cheekbones. His voice was deep and rumbly, as if he was half asleep.

As she stared, his lips curved. “And now I’ve got you in my bed, I’m not about to let you go. You’re mine—now and forever.”

Frustration bloomed, but if he was speaking without thinking… “What does that mean?” Her heart started to thud. “What do you intend me being yours ‘now and forever’ to mean?”

That got his eyes open.

Godfrey looked at her and consciously allowed all he felt for her to illuminate his expression until he felt certain his love shone in his eyes. “When I arrived at the Hall, I had no thoughts of marriage. In fact, getting married didn’t figure in my calculations at all—I had no interest in the institution, no need to embrace it. And I had never met a female who even remotely brought the thought to mind.” He paused, then said, “And then I saw you, and everything changed.”

His smile deepened, and remembering, he let his lashes fall. “So what I mean by those words…”

Suddenly, he realized why she’d asked; he hadn’t actually said. He opened his eyes, fixed them on hers, and clearly enunciated, “I want you to marry me. I want you for my wife. I want to put my ring on your finger and change your name to Lady Godfrey Cavanaugh.” He paused, then amended, “Eleanor, Lady Cavanaugh.”

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