Broken Dove Page 59

Mine was a whole lot better.

I knew this because I felt his h*ps pound into mine through his. But I was still gloriously riding my cl**ax when he drove in and stayed planted and his nose was nuzzling the skin behind my ear by the time I started coming down.

He felt it and I knew that when he stopped nuzzling and his teeth nipped my earlobe before he said in my ear, “Next time I’ll go slow and gentle.”

I almost smiled.

I didn’t.

When he’d lowered himself to me, he’d trapped my hands between us. I pushed them up his chest, his neck, and framed his face, lifting it and guiding it so I could catch his eyes.

“Are the children okay?”

His features softened to tender and if that look was good normally (and it wasn’t good, it was good) with him inside me, his face close, and after a fabulous orgasm, it was off the charts good.

Then he lifted a hand to cup my cheek, his thumb moving out to touch between my brows, gliding down over my nose to my lips, his gaze watching the trail of his thumb, that tender look not moving from his face.

That was sweet, very sweet. And I liked it. A whole lot.

But he didn’t answer my question.

“Apollo,” I called and his eyes came to mine.

“Élan has much exuberance for life, but she also has a sensitive soul,” he whispered. “She merely heard the men battling and took fright. She saw none of it and was never in any danger. Neither of them were.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling stupid. I was also thinking maybe he thought it less stupid and maybe a little scary-crazy seeing as I stabbed a man and threatened another’s manhood with hedge clippers, all for nothing. “Well, then. Perhaps I overreacted.”

His body started to shake with laughter but abruptly it stopped and he closed his eyes, dropped his forehead to mine and slid his nose alongside mine.

Right. Maybe he didn’t think I was scary-crazy.

I slid my hands down to his neck and he lifted his head half an inch.

“Tell me about the children you lost, poppy,” he whispered.

That was a bolt out of the blue, a sneak attack, and my fingers flexed spasmodically in his flesh.

“Apollo—”

He pressed his body into mine and urged gently, “Tell me, dove.”

I licked my lips.

He waited.

My teeth worried my lower lip.

He didn’t move.

Shit.

Okay.

I looked deep into his eyes and saw he was not going anywhere until he had his answers.

Shit.

Okay.

Not that I wanted him to go anywhere, but we couldn’t have our staring contest forever so, haltingly, I shared, “Uh…I lost my son when I was still pregnant. Pol got pissed for some reason and started to—”

“Speak no more,” he growled and I shut up as his anger saturated the room.

I started worrying my lip again.

He got a lock on it, but his voice was rough when he prompted, “And your daughter?”

“Miscarriage at six months,” I whispered.

He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to mine again.

It was my turn to wait.

He didn’t make me wait long.

He lifted his forehead from mine, gently slid out and rolled off me. I rolled to the side and curled up as he yanked the covers out from under me and tossed them over. After that, naked, he walked to the fire, threw some logs on and came back to me.

He got under the covers and gathered me in his arms, holding me close face-to-face with us on our sides, his hand moving up my spine to start sifting through my hair.

I drew in a deep breath and let it out, forcing myself to relax.

He spoke and he did it quietly.

“You’re in the dower house. It’s lovely, welcoming and warm. You’ll like it. It’s also, as you know, close to the main house. You’re here so that you can control when you see the children rather than running into them in hallways or hiding away in an effort to avoid them.”

Okay, I had to admit, I really liked that in the throes of all that was happening, he’d not only thought to give me that; he’d also given it to me.

He went on. “I’ve sent missives to Vasterhague for the return of our sleigh and belongings as well as Bellebryn to explain my delay and the information we gleaned from the perpetrator.”

I tipped my head back to look at him. “So you got something from him?”

He dipped his chin down to look at me. “Yes.”

He said no more.

“Are you going to share what that was?” I asked.

“On the morrow,” he answered.

I opened my mouth and he moved his hand from my hair to press his fingers against my lips.

“On the morrow, dove.”

I stared into his eyes and this time saw I would not get anything until “the morrow.”

So I shut my mouth.

He removed his fingers from my lips and resumed gliding them through my hair as he kept talking.

“As my children have become acutely aware of the dangers lurking, I will obviously wish to spend time with them in order to assuage their fears as well as assess when this is accomplished.”

“Of course.”

“I also wish for you to meet them so you can spend time with them as well.”

I didn’t reply to that, but my body did. It got tight.

His hand in my hair moved to become a thumb and side of his finger at my chin and he dipped his face close.

“You will love them. They will love you,” he whispered and my breath caught at these words. “I know this because you did not even know them, only knew they’d been frightened and you moved immediately to avenge them. It may be awkward and even difficult for you at first, but if you would do what you did this night without even knowing them, what could build if you did?”

He didn’t give me the chance to answer, he answered himself.

“Something of great beauty. I am eager for you to give my children that, but, my poppy,”—he got closer—“I’m just as eager for you to have it.”

God, that was beautiful.

I stared into his eyes then, in order to hold it together as I felt it slipping apart, I slapped his arm.

“Don’t make me cry,” I snapped. “I’ve had a couple of really bad days.”

He grinned, dipped even closer and touched his mouth to mine.

After he pulled back, he declared, “I will, of course, be spending my nights here. In this bed. With you.”

I rolled my eyes.

His danced with humor and he carried on.

“And as I sense you’ll require time before you spend some with Christophe and Élan, and I also want to spend time with you, and because I don’t want the children around when it’s done, the plans that need to be made after the information we learned this night will be done here. So you will be hosting my men.”

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