‘I do have some regrets over the way I handled our relationship,’ he confessed with a small frown disturbing his forehead. ‘I should not have treated you the way I did that first night.’
‘Oh, wow, is that an apology I hear?’ she scoffed. ‘Does “some regrets” mean you’re actually admitting to having made a mistake? How on earth will you cope with having put a black mark on your pristine copybook?’
‘Actually it is an apology of sorts,’ he said, meeting her eyes once more. ‘I had underestimated your commitment to your sister. Your devotion to her is remarkable considering what she has put you through. It shows you have a forgiving side to your nature.’
‘Unlike you,’ she couldn’t resist throwing back at him.
‘No, perhaps you are right,’ he said with another regretful frown. ‘I do find it hard to let go of resentment. I tend to brood on things, which has a tendency over time to blow everything out of proportion.’
Charlotte had to fight the urge to be mollified by his grudging confession. She wanted to be angry with him. She needed to be angry with him to keep herself safe from further hurt.
‘I want this to work, not just for Emily, but for us,’ he said into the taut silence. ‘She is a beautiful little girl. I cannot tell you what it means to me to have her in my life. I do not know how to thank you for choosing to go ahead with the pregnancy. So many young women, given the circumstances, would not have done so.’
Charlotte had to clamp her bottom lip between her teeth to hold back her emotion. She had agonised over what to do in those first few weeks, especially when her mother had become so desperately ill and her sister so obviously in need of her support. But she had not been able to bring herself to rid herself of the one thing that still connected her to Damon.
‘I loved her from the moment I knew I was carrying her…’
Damon stepped forward and brushed a gentle hand across her cheek, the gesture so poignant and unexpected she had trouble keeping the moisture from spilling from her eyes as she raised them to his.
‘I love her too,’ he said, his voice unmistakably husky. ‘I would do anything for her.’
She gave him a twisted look. ‘You’ve certainly demonstrated that by marrying me—the woman you hate more than any other.’
He held her gaze for interminable seconds, his dark, unfathomable eyes boring into hers until she was sure he was seeing her soul laid bare.
‘Perhaps in time we will not be so fervent in our distrust of each other,’ he remarked. ‘After all, we desire one another, so there is hope that somewhere amongst all the ill feeling there is something that could be more lasting.’
Charlotte wanted to believe him but her only hope was for her name to be cleared. How could he ever develop the feelings he’d had for her before while he still believed her guilty of betraying him in such a despicable way?
Damon brushed a strand of her hair away from her mouth, the touch of his fingers sending a wave of deep longing through her.
‘Come to bed, agape mou,’ he said gently. ‘This is the first night of our new life together. We should start it as we mean to go on.’
She moistened her dry lips, her stomach giving a little kick of excitement deep inside. ‘Y-you mean…sleep together?’
His eyes darkened as he outlined the curve of her mouth with his fingertip. ‘Is that not what husbands and wives do?’
‘Yes…but…’
He moved closer, half a step, but it was enough to bring his body into intimate contact with hers. She felt the heat emanating off him, scorching her from the waist down as his desire for her became apparent. She could feel his swollen thickness pressing against her, making her heart begin to race at the thought of feeling him moving inside her.
His mouth descended as she tipped hers upwards, somehow meeting in the middle with an explosion of feeling. His tongue drove through the shield of her lips in search of hers, calling it into a tantalising dance that mimicked the stroke and sensual glide of his physical possession. Her body strained to get closer, her breasts swelling with need as his hands moved over them to shape them possessively.
His kiss deepened with urgency, her lips crushed beneath his as his mouth fed hungrily off hers as if the past three weeks without touching her had driven him to the very limit of his control.
He lifted his mouth from hers as he backed her towards the bed, his eyes glazed with passion. ‘It is always this way with you,’ he said, his tone rough and deep. ‘I only have to touch you and I want to drive myself into you and explode.’
His words fuelled her need of him to fever pitch. She clung to him, her mouth searching for his in desperation as he pressed her to the bed, his long legs entrapping hers. She fought with his clothes in her quest to find his naked skin, her mouth anointing him with hot little kisses as soon as his shirt and trousers were dispensed with.
Damon drew in a sharp-edged little breath as she moved her way down his body to taste him, her tongue a tormenting pleasure as it licked and stroked in turn. He dug his hands into the cloud of her tousled hair as she drew on him, the sucking motion of her mouth lifting every single hair on his scalp in exquisite delight.
He could stand it no longer and pushed her away, his hands taking control of hers by holding them above her head. She squirmed and writhed beneath him as he used his other hand to remove her top so he could caress her breasts, his mouth taking each one in turn until she was whimpering with pleasure.
‘Oh, please…’ she panted and grabbed at him impatiently as he took his time removing the rest of her clothes.
‘Be patient, agape mou,’ he growled playfully as he kissed his way past her cleavage to her belly button, lingering there a moment to insert the tip of his tongue into the tiny sensitive cave.
She felt him momentarily tense as he came to her Caesarian scar, his eyes coming back to hers with a question in their dark depths. ‘You had a difficult birth?’ he asked, his tone deep and huskier than normal.
‘Yes…I was in labour for twelve hours and Emily was getting distressed…I had to have an emergency Caesarian.’
A shadow of regret flicked in and out of his gaze. ‘Was anyone there with you to support you?’
Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers splayed over her belly where his child had lain for nine months. How she had longed for him to be have been present on that day. To encourage her to keep going, to mop her brow and hold her hand through every contraction as it marched back through her abdomen. Hearing that first mewing cry had been one of the happiest and yet loneliest moments of Charlotte’s life. She had held that sticky, wriggling little body to her chest and grieved that Damon had not been there to share in the joy and relief of Emily’s birth.
‘No…’ she said, unable to hold his gaze. ‘My mother had died three weeks earlier and Stacey…Well, I’m not sure to this day where she was…She’d promised to be with me, but…’
He tipped up her chin to bring her eyes back to his. ‘Charlotte…’ He seemed to be having trouble speaking, his throat was moving up and down but no further sound came out.
‘It’s all right,’ she said with a tight little smile. ‘I had a good midwife and the doctor was wonderful.’
His eyes moved back to her scar and his fingers traced over it gently. ‘Did it hurt?’ he asked.
‘Not as much as the thought of losing her,’ she said. ‘I would have gone through any pain to avoid that. I still would.’
His expression was thoughtful as he looked deep into her eyes, as if he was seeing her for the very first time.
‘You