Trying hard not to blush, she said composedly, ‘It smells wonderful.’
‘As it’s still none too warm out here, I suggest you have yours in bed.’
With a feeling of being cherished and cared for, she pushed herself upright and leaned back against the pillows.
Balancing the tray dexterously on one hand, he removed the candlestick and matches from the bedside table before setting it down.
She noticed that the stubble had gone from his jaw, to be replaced by a slight rawness and a drying trickle of blood. Feeling a sudden rush of tenderness, she said, ‘You’ve cut yourself.’
‘It’s just a nick.’ Wryly, he added, ‘I’m out of practice with the kind of cutthroat razor Ben has. The only time I’ve used one of those was at college, and then I did it for a bet.’
‘I’m surprised you bothered shaving.’ She spoke the thought aloud.
‘I wouldn’t have done, but bristles play havoc with a delicate skin like yours—the bits I can see are still pink from last time—and I was overcome by a strong desire to kiss you all over.’
Before she could protest he drew back the duvet and, taking her hips, pulled her flat on her back. Then, growling softly, he nuzzled his face against her breasts, alternately nibbling and sucking.
While she laughed and squirmed helplessly, he worked his way down her ribcage to her slender waist. His mouth was hovering over her navel when she gasped, ‘Stop…’
‘I’ve scarcely started. I haven’t even got to the really interesting bits.’
‘Please stop.’
‘You mean you don’t like it?’
‘I mean I’m hungry, and the beans and sausages will be getting cold.’
He straightened with a sigh and helped her sit up. ‘What a very practical woman. I can see that in future I’m going to have to feed you before I indulge my lascivious cravings.’
Reaching for the shirt, he put it carefully around her shoulders. ‘Coffee first?’
‘Please.’
When their mugs were empty, he spread a clean tea towel over the duvet and put a heaped plate and a knife and fork in front of her. ‘Tuck in.’
Then, sitting down companionably on the edge of the bed, he reached for his own plate and began to eat with a healthy appetite.
Watching him, Charlotte saw that, without looking anything but entirely masculine, he ate with a kind of neat precision.
Unlike some big men, all his movements were easy and graceful, and whatever he was doing he seemed to have complete control over his own body. The thought brought vivid memories of his earlier lovemaking, and made her breath come faster and her pulses race.
Leashing his own needs, he had been ardent, tender, skilful and wonderfully generous. She had never, in her wildest fantasies, imagined having such a lover.
She wanted to pinch herself to make sure that all that had happened since they’d come to Owl Cottage hadn’t been just a dream.
For instance, had she really agreed to marry a man she had known for barely two days?
Incredibly, she had.
What on earth had made her do it?
She was head over heels in love, it was as simple as that. Somewhere she had read that you first fell in love with your eyes, then your emotions, then your mind. But she hadn’t done it in stages, and she hadn’t called it love.
Instead she had labelled this bolt from the blue physical attraction, only now realising it was love. A fierce, all-consuming love that had lit a torch and sent her up in flames…
‘I TAKE it that, like me, you’d prefer a traditional church wedding to the register office?’ Simon’s voice broke into her thoughts.
‘Yes, I would,’ she agreed unhesitatingly.
‘Good.’ Putting their empty plates on the tray, he went on, ‘It shouldn’t take long to get everything organised. We’ll need a special licence. But my godfather, as well as being an old friend of the family, happens to be an archbishop, which ought to facilitate matters. If I talk to him as soon as we get back, we should be able to get married in a few days’ time.’
‘A few days!’ She was staggered. ‘Oh, but I—’
‘Grandfather doesn’t have much longer, and I’d like him to live to see us married.’
‘But there’s the shop and—’
‘Couldn’t you ask your assistant—Margaret, did you say her name was—to take care of things for the moment?’
‘I suppose so, but—’
‘Then surely there’s no problem? With regard to your flat you can just leave everything where it is until the wedding’s over. Then, when you’ve moved your personal possessions, give your landlord notice and return the keys.’
‘I don’t think I’ll need to do that. I’m sure Sojo will want to stay on,’ she said.
‘Sojo?’
‘Sojo Macfadyen. My flatmate.’
Looking momentarily startled, he said, ‘I didn’t know you had a flatmate.’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Male or female?’
‘Female, of course.’
He grinned briefly. ‘It’s hard to tell with a name like Sojo.’
‘Her name’s Sojourner. Though she’s liable to get violent if anyone calls her that.’
‘How long has she been with you?’
‘Almost two years.’
‘What does she do?’
‘She works for a travel company.’
‘I see. Presumably you get along well?’
‘Very well.’
‘In that case, despite the short notice, perhaps she’ll be your bridesmaid?’ he suggested.
Recalling Sojo’s words, Charlotte was about to say, I’m sure she will , when, bearing in mind the traditions accompanying weddings, she suggested, ‘Shouldn’t we ask your sister first?’
Brusquely, he said, ‘Earlier this year Lucy was badly injured in a car crash. Part of her spine was crushed. Since then she’s been bedridden and in considerable pain.’
Charlotte was shocked. ‘I—I’m so sorry. How dreadful for you all.’ Even as she spoke she was aware of how inadequate the words were.
As he saw her stricken face, his own face softened. ‘It’s been a trying time, particularly for Grandfather, who’s always been very fond of her. He was extremely upset when the hospital warned us she might never walk again. However, Lucy’s got plenty of courage, and she’s a fighter. Now, after a couple of operations, she’s back home and starting to make some positive progress. But to return to the question of a bridesmaid…’
‘I’m sure Sojo will be thrilled to bits,’ Charlotte assured him. ‘As luck will have it, she’ll have no problem getting time off work. When I get back to the flat I’ll—’
‘When were you thinking of going back?’ he questioned sharply.
‘Later today.’
‘Not a chance,’ he told her decidedly. ‘I’m not letting you out of my sight until we’re well and truly married.’
She felt a little thrill of excitement at this show of male possessiveness.
Still, common sense insisted that she should make a stand. Shaking her head, she said, ‘I’ll need to go back to get some clothes, and I must—’
‘I’ve a better idea. As Miss Macfadyen has some time off work, when we get home we’ll ring her up and invite her to stay with us. If you ask her to bring whatever clothes you need to tide you over, I’ll send a car for her.’
The thought of inviting Sojo to Farringdon Hall was a welcome one, but there were other considerations. ‘I have to talk to Margaret about the shop…’
He leaned forward to brush his lips down the side of her neck, making her shiver with delight. ‘My heart’s darling, couldn’t you do that by phone?’
Seduced by the caress and the endearment, she admitted, ‘I suppose I could.’
‘That’s my girl,’ he said jubilantly, and planted a series of soft baby kisses along her jawline, before his mouth covered hers.
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