WolfeStrike (De Wolfe Pack Generations #2) - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,110

around his neck. He was so tall that he had to bend over in order to hold her and she clung to him tightly.

For a moment, they simply held one another, feeling warmth against warmth.

It was a magical moment.

“I want to take care of Lenore and Barbara before we wed,” he said huskily, his face in the side of her head. “I hope you do not mind, but I do not want them hanging over our heads or interfering with our marriage in any way. Let me take them to Armathwaite first so that we may only focus on our life together. That is all I want to think about.”

Isalyn’s fingers were in his hair. “I understand and I agree,” she said. “Do you really intend to take them to the nunnery tomorrow?”

“I would do it tonight, but I suppose it is the compassionate thing to give them time to choose which possessions they wish to take,” he said. “But truthfully, I have lost my perspective with this. What do you suggest?”

She pulled back to look him in the eyes. “You are worrying too much,” she said softly. “It seems to me that you went through years of inactivity where they were concerned and now, you are concerned that you are not reacting swiftly enough. Taking them in the next day or two is fine.”

He smiled faintly, leaning forward to kiss her soft mouth. “Thank you,” he murmured. “When they are safely away and all is well again, we shall go to Castle Questing so you can meet my father.”

She chuckled. “Then you must retrieve my father from Carlisle first. He will not forgive you if you visit Warenton without him.”

“Why did he stay in Carlisle, anyway?”

She shrugged. “Something about his majordomo stealing from him,” she said. “The last time I visited, years ago, he said the same thing, so I think it is something he accuses the man of on a regular basis.”

“But still, the majordomo remains.”

She nodded, giggling. “He does.”

Tor pulled her close once again, feeling her body molding against his. He could feel her breasts against him, her belly. She was round and pleasing, and he could feel himself becoming aroused. It had been years since he’d last had a woman, and being a man in his prime, had all of the normal needs of a man.

Especially where Isalyn was concerned.

She made him feel like his entire body was awakening from a long and dark slumber.

“Let us not speak of your father or of the harpies any longer,” he muttered, burying his face in the side of her head again. “Let us only speak of us.”

Isalyn gave in to his overwhelming heat, his power. She closed her eyes, savoring his embrace.

“What do you wish to speak of?” she whispered.

He sighed with great contentment before picking her up and carrying her, her body trailing down his, over to the bed so he could sit down. He sat, putting her on his lap.

“Of you,” he murmured, kissing her neck. “Of us. My father has ten children. I should like to have at least that many.”

Her eyes flew open and she looked at him in horror. “Ten children?”

He fought off a grin. “Too many?”

She could see that he was teasing her, so she played along. “Nay,” she said. “But I think they should all be girls.”

Now, his eyes opened wide. “All girls?”

She nodded confidently. “Girls are much easier to manage than boys.”

He grunted. “I have not done very well with girls in my care in the past.”

Her smile faded. “You will when I am in charge of them,” she said. “They will be disciplined and loved and encouraged to be creative. They will be the most cherished and well-mannered lasses in the north.”

His smile returned, just a little. “You’ll have them writing dramas?”

“Mayhap,” she said, a twinkle in her eyes. “Riding wild horses, writing dramas, and forging their way in this world. That was how you met me, after all. It is not such a bad thing.”

He leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose. “It is not,” he said. “And after we are married, we will make plans to go to London and look for property to purchase. I will speak with my Uncle Edward. He spends most of his time in London and will know who we may speak with. Mayhap there is an old earl somewhere, selling his London townhome.”

“I am looking forward to it.”

“Are you really?”

Her answer was to lean forward, kissing his lips sweetly.