To Love, Honor, and Obey... (Fated for Love) (21 page)

BOOK: To Love, Honor, and Obey... (Fated for Love)
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Obedience sat up and smiled smugly. “With Gable and Mrs. Moore around, I haven't much to do unless we're entertaining, which we are not, and won't be doing for some time yet.”

“And what of your other wifely duties.” He leaned over her, tossing the book to a nearby table.

She looped her arms around his neck. “You've yet to teach me my other wifely
duties, which are also one of
your
duties.”

He
playfully nipped at her ear. “Then it is my duty to take my wife on a picnic this very moment.”

“A picnic?”
she said delightedly.

“At the creek
,” he smiled wolfishly.

Her eyes widened. “I should change. I can't take this dress off myself.”

“There's no need.” Chance assured her. “I've quite a bit of practice undressing you.”

She bit her lip. He could see the cogs turning in her mind, imaginings of what mischief they could make at the creek. “Then by all means, take me on a picnic, dear husband.”

*~~*

They arrived at the creek, hair
windblown from galloping across the fields. He helped her down and tied the horses to a strong branch before leading her down to the bank. Without much rain the creek had shrunk, affording them plenty of flat dry sand to spread a blanket. It was humid under the thick canopy of trees, the water bubbling and chirping birds adding to the ambiance. They had spent so much time here during their summers growing up that it seemed only right they would continue the habit as husband and wife. She held the basket as he spread out the blanket and then they sat side by side looking over the surroundings.

“I love it here. This place will always be special to me.”

Chance nodded. He uncorked a bottle of champagne and filled their glasses, handing one to her. “I bought you something in London. I forgot to give it to you last night.”

“You bought me something? Like a gift?”
she said dubiously.

He laughed. “Relax.
It’s quite normal for a husband to buy gifts for his wife.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You mean, when he's been an arse?”

He nearly spit out his sip of champagne. “There are many occasions to spoil ones wife. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?”

Obedience shrugged.

“Close your eyes.” He moved in front of her and pulled out a small box from his coat pocket. He held out the box to her. “Open your eyes.”

She did, blinking as she stared at the box. “What is this?”

“Open it and find out,” he encouraged her.

She gently took the box and lifted the lid. Resting on the tissue was a broach of carved
tiger-eye in the shape of a bear. She brought a shaking hand to her mouth and didn't make a sound. Chance took the box from her hand and picked up the broach. He pinned it to her dress.

“I'm not supposed to wear any adornment while mourning him.”

Chance ignored her feeble protest. “Now you can always carry him with you.”

She looked down at the broach, lightly touching the bears smooth back with her
fingertip. “Oh, Chance.” She lunged into his arms, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face against his neck. He held her tightly. He could feel her hot tears on his skin.

“I didn't mean to upset you.”

“I'm not upset,” she cried.

“I find it hard to believe you.”

She pulled back. “I've never been given something so precious—I mean, my father gave me the music box and the drawing, but this... it means so much to me.”

He lightly kissed her lips. “And you meant a lot to him. I have so much to remember him by
—countless memories, whittled horses, portraits of us through the years. Now you can carry him with you, a symbol of his spirit. You've been so brave taking on so much for our sake. I am so grateful to you. I know you loved him as much as I do, and feel his loss as much as I do.”

“Thank you.” She gave him a watery smile.

He kissed her again, and then moved back to his side of the blanket. They sat in companionable silence, eating cucumber sandwiches and cold chicken. Once finished, Chance packed up the basket and pulled her to her feet. “Care for a swim?”

She nodded, her eyes dry again and free of sorrow. He helped her undress down to her chemise when inspiration struck him like a bolt of lightning. “Obedience
.” he said huskily.

“Hmm?” She yawned and stretched
with her back to him.

He pulled her back against his bare chest and played with the strap of her chemise. “How would you feel about swimming nude?”

She stilled. “Both of us?”

“It would be pointless otherwise.”

She shrugged one shoulder and looked back at him with a seductive smile. She turned and pulled her chemise over her head, standing naked before him with challenge in her eyes.

He grinned back at her and reached for the buttons of his breeches. She waded into the water, now only waist deep
, and he followed her. She shyly peeked at him over her shoulder as she trailed her fingers in the water. He quickly grew tired of her sudden bashfulness and caught her against him, causing her to squirm and laugh as he dunked them under the cool water.

Breaking the surface, he stole a kiss, and wrapped her legs around his waist, torturing them both with the proximity of their loins.

She groaned in frustration when he pulled away, holding her tightly to prevent her from sinking onto his shaft. “Chance, when are you going to make love to me?”

He laughed. “Are we back to the discussion of husbands bothering their wives again?”

“Don't tease. I'm serious,” she pleaded.

“Haven't you enjoyed my courting?
It’s not traditional courting with flowers and afternoon calls, but we are not the traditional couple.”

“Is that what you're doing? Courting me?”

“Courting, wooing, it’s all the same. I'm declaring my intent.”

“We're already married.” She growled and tried to wiggled lower.

He held her easily. “I'm declaring my feelings for you.”

That caught her attention. She stopped wiggling and just stared at him. “Feelings?”
she said sheepishly. “You mean the passion you mentioned before?”

He thought about that for a moment. He had used their shared passion as a means to convince her to agree to marry him, but now that didn't seem enough. They were married, and he felt something far stronger than mere passion.

“More than that,” he confessed.

Obedience stared back at him in astonishment. She was dying to know precisely what he meant, but couldn't find the words to ask. More than that could mean a number of things, but her giddy heart focused on one word.

Love.

She knew she loved him as she always did,
in an infatuated always-out-of-her-reach kind of way, but she did her best to not think about the idea of falling in love with him, because even though he was the kindest man she knew, unrequited love could be debilitating. This she knew from novels. Once one saw something it could not be unseen, and the same were true of thoughts. Now that she thought she could fall in love with him, it could not be un-thought, and staring back at him dumbly, she desperately wanted to know if he were feeling the same.

“What’s more than passion,” she asked hesitantly.

“I'm not sure I know.”

Her heart sunk. She unwrapped herself from him and swam away from him. She stopped before the
waterfall. “You said more than passion, what does that mean?”

“I did.” He waded closer to her. “I know so much has changed between us. Being here with you has shown me that. We are not the children we used to be.”

“Did you only just stumble upon that revelation?” She laughed. “I've always loved you, Chance. From the time I was a little girl I worshiped upon the alter of your kindness and golden curls. You are the stuff girlish fantasies are made of, a perfect image of prince charming.”

Chance grimaced uncomfortably.

“Don't pretend you didn't know.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “But that is not the same as love, not the kind shared by Romeo and Juliet, the kind that poets write sonnets about. I don't expect you to fall in love with me, not simply because we married and have passion. I haven't fooled myself into believing that is possible,” she said painfully. It was excruciating to admit it aloud, because the moment she said it, she realized that was exactly what she wanted. That had been her girlhood dream and it had stayed with her into womanhood.

Chance remained silent. She could feel his eyes on her even though she had her back to him. She bowed her head and closed her eyes, the cool water swirling around her shoulders doing nothing to calm the hot flush of embarrassment. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She didn't resist him as he turned her to face him, but she couldn't look up to meet his eyes.

“What is love, Obedience? Is it what poets write about? Or a fictitious tale of the death of two foolish young lovers? I'm not sure I really know. What I do know is that you were always meant to be at my side. You have always been a part of what home is to me. I may not have always appreciated your presence, especially through some of your more bratty years, but it would have felt wrong if you weren't here every time I came home. You are a part of me, like this land, and the house I was born in. You make it whole. My father was right. You were the only choice. I may not have seen it at first, but it was easy to feel once I considered it. We rushed through all of it, proposal, the wedding, but it wasn't a decision based on logic. It was a decision based on heart. If love is anything, it is that.”

Obedience trembled as she looked up at him. It felt as if his words spoke directly to her heart. It filled her with hope. “Are you saying you love me?” She bit her lip. Giddiness filled her chest like champagne bubbles.

He frowned comically, as if in deep thought. “I suppose I am.”

She swatted at his chest. “I refuse to believe you unless you say it.”

“Fine.” He growled playfully. He grabbed both of her hands and held them against his chest. “I love you.”

Obedience inhaled sharply. Her mind struggled to accept the words. She felt like she was floating in a dream. “You do?”

“I do, but do you think you could feel the same? No more girlish infatuation. Or fantasies of a prince charming. I want devotion, real, burning, insatiable love.”

She nodded. Her chest bursting with joy.

“Then say it.” He dared her. He dipped his head and nipped at her nose.

She took a deep breath, her breasts pressing against his bare chest. “I love you.”

She felt him tense, saw his eyes dilate. His arms tightened around her. “This has definitely changed things.”

“Everything has changed. You've turned my whole world upside down. I don't think I'm even the same person
,” she said shakily. Her skin was coming alive again. She was becoming overly sensitized to the splash of water against her skin, the swell of each breath they took, and the hard ridge of his arousal pressed against her stomach. “Will you take me home now and make love to me?”

He took
an even bigger breath, his body growing harder. “Are you sure you're ready?”

Obedience threw her head back in exasperation and groaned. “I've been ready.
It’s you with your overly conscientious and equally overbearing notion that I must be handled with kid gloves. I'm the girl who rides about in breeches, Chance. I'm the girl who bested you at tree climbing and horseracing. Nothing I do with you could be so shocking and terrifying as you are making it out to be. You keep suggesting otherwise, but now I'm calling your bluff.”

“If you knew the thoughts in my mind, the things I fantasized about doing to you, you would be scared
,” he warned. “You strip away all my civility when I have you beneath me.”

“I dare you to try and shock me
,” she challenged.

His jaw locked. The muscles in his jaw and neck visibly flexing. “Be careful of what you wish for.”

“Right here, right now.”

He balked. “No.”

“Why not?” she whined petulantly.

“You are my wife. We've only made love once. I will take you home and make love to you in our bed properly, before we begin to explore other venues.”

“You are a stick in the mud,” she teased as he picked her up and waded toward the shore.

Chapter 17

They returned to the house, sweaty from their gallop back to the stables in the afternoon heat. When they entered the back door, intent to reach her bedroom, Gable was waiting with an urgent missive. A messenger was waiting for a reply. Chance cursed. Obedience folded her arms over her chest mutinously.

“I'll only be a moment
,” he bid her. “Wait for me and I will be up shortly.”

Obedience strode away without a word and Chance hurried to his study. He opened the missive, cursing his secretary for being so damn efficient.

Obedience reached her room and found Myra sorting through her stockings. “Oh, good day, Myra,” Obedience said. She hoped she didn't sound as peeved as she felt.

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