‘Livy, what is the matter?’
Why did he have to keep calling her that? It was what he had called her when he was being all sweet years ago.
‘You need to go.’
He closed his eyes and draped his arm over his face, showing her the curve of his biceps. ‘I am tired, Olivia, and it is late. I just want to sleep.’
‘Here?’ she squeaked.
Picking up his head, he peered at her through one eye. ‘Yes, here, I have done it before. Now come back to bed.’ He closed his eye and settled into the blankets.
Now what was she to do? He was much too big to drag out of bed. She picked up his banyan and held it out to him. ‘We never agreed you would sleep here.’
He lifted his head again and eyed her. His hair was tousled and there was a slight shadow on his face from his evening whiskers, giving him a roguish quality. ‘I was not aware everything we do would be up for negotiation.’ He rolled to his side, propping his head in his hand and exposing his hard muscular chest. ‘We just had a brilliant time together, and to be truthful my legs are not quite steady at the moment. Let us not ruin tonight by arguing. Please, come back to bed.’
Olivia felt herself weakening, but if he slept here she feared it would be harder to keep him out of her heart. Especially when he was all sweet and rumpled. He eyed her expectantly.
Pushing back her shoulders, she took a deep breath. She could do this. She could sleep with him without it affecting her in the least. Many women slept with their husbands without even liking them. It was just sex, two bodies responding to one another. That was all it was. It had nothing to do with feelings of any kind.
She folded his banyan carefully and placed it at the foot of her bed. Reluctantly, she slid under the covers. If she laid on her back with distance between them, she would be fine.
Gabriel slid beside her and pulled her close. This would never work. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned on her side to get away from him, but his arm tightened as he spooned his body against her.
‘Go to sleep, Livy,’ he mumbled into her hair.
The ice around her heart melted a little bit more. Oh, good heavens! There had to be a way to resist him.
‘Mama, Mama, you won’t believe—’
There was a little voice in his dream. What was a little voice doing in his dream about Olivia? Gabriel shifted his weight and breathed in her honeysuckle scent.
‘Papa, is that you? What are you doing in Mama’s bed?’
The warm softness below him began to shift and then poke him. Gabriel tightened his arm around it to get it to stop.
‘Wake up,’ Olivia whispered sharply.
Why was she telling him to wake up? She should be telling him that she wanted to feel him deep inside her. Gabriel groaned, rubbed his whiskers against the soft linen draped over her enticing breast and cracked one eye open to the faint morning light.
And was met with his son’s curious expression an inch from his nose.
Startled, Gabriel jerked away from Olivia.
‘Hello, Papa. Good morning, Mama,’ said Nicholas from where he was standing beside the bed, playing with Olivia’s sleeve.
She turned and kissed their son. In an attempt to wake up his muddled brain, Gabriel rubbed the back of his head and stretched.
‘Your hair looks silly, Papa, and why aren’t you wearing a shirt?’
Olivia arched her brow at Gabriel, leaving the explanation to him.
‘It was very warm last night,’ he replied, rubbing his eyes.
‘No, it wasn’t. There was a fire in my room all night.’ Nicholas crawled up on the bed and sat cross-legged next to Olivia. His doe-like eyes widened with excitement. ‘Did you hear the rain? There was a mighty storm. Why are you here? Did the thunder scare you?’
She gave a small snort and glanced at Gabriel. At least she believed he was manly enough to withstand a thunderstorm without retreating to the inside of his wardrobe.
‘Your papa came to enquire after me and was too tired to return to his rooms so I let him fall asleep here.’
‘That was nice of you, Mama. What’s that?’ Nicholas asked, poking Gabriel below his ribcage.
With bleary eyes Gabriel looked down to the puckered scar from his old gunshot wound, his constant reminder of his costly mistake. ‘It’s an old fencing injury.’ One more lie in that chain of many he was forced to tell.
‘Uncle Andrew says chits like men with scars.’
‘You have spent entirely too much time with your Uncle Andrew,’ he mumbled.
Olivia traced the outline of his round scar with her delicate finger and caught his eye with a curious expression.
‘Do you like Papa’s scar, Mama?’
She turned to Nicholas. ‘Would you like to see my scar?’
‘You have a scar?’ Nicholas asked with eager anticipation.
‘I was thrown from a horse.’ She rolled her sleeve up over her elbow.
Gabriel peered over and saw a jagged white line about two inches across. He had never noticed it before. When was she thrown from a horse? James should have informed him of any injury she had sustained.
Nicholas gave a low whistle. ‘Did it hurt? Did you cry, Mama?’
She ran her fingers through their son’s hair. ‘For just a bit, my love. Now up you go so your father and I can begin our day.’
‘Will you have breakfast with us too, Papa?’ Nicholas asked with a wide smile. ‘You never do and I would like that very much. I am rarely with you and Mama together. I rather like this.’
And lying there in bed with his wife and child, Gabriel realised he liked it too. They were shut away from the problems and whispers of the outside world. It felt like they were a true family and it was awfully intimate. Suddenly going back to sleep in his room and having breakfast alone held no appeal.
Olivia shook her head and began to say something when he interrupted her. ‘Of course we will take breakfast together,’ he replied, noticing his wife’s surprised expression. Was she at all happy about his announcement? ‘Run off and tell Bennett we will dine together in the breakfast room.’
Nicholas’s smile brightened his face. ‘That’s a capital idea,’ he said, before jumping off the bed and running out the door.
‘Is this part of your ritual each morning?’ He rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock on the mantel. ‘My word, it is barely six o’clock!’
She laughed. ‘From what I recall you also rose with the early streaks of dawn. He does not come in every morning, but a fair amount.’
He had forgotten how sinful she looked when she had just woken up. The lids of her eyes were a bit lower and those loose tresses of her dark hair reminded him of how she looked after a rather vigorous bout of lovemaking—like they’d had last night.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ she asked, moving her head away from him.
He climbed on top of her and propped himself up by his elbows. ‘Like what?’ he countered, rubbing his nose on the side of hers, needing to touch her in even the smallest of ways.
‘Please