I love Stephanie Laurens.💖 I hope you read her wonderful books💜💙💜💖
He searched her eyes. “That was why seeing me with Madame Faberge affected you so powerfully. You thought I’d offered you the most shining of prizes—the one that your heart has always truly craved—only to cruelly snatch it away.” She nodded. Turning her hand in his hold, she squeezed his fingers. “You’ve told me your truth. My truth—the one I’ve finally seen clearly and that I’m ready to own to—is that I want to be loved by you as much and to the same extent as I love you. What you’re offering me now is all and everything my heart truly desires.” His smile was everything she needed it to be. Raising their linked hands, he brushed a gentler kiss to her fingers. “It seems that in the matter of loving each other, we’ve been playing games—two separate, idiotic, and unnecessary games—you and I.” She nodded again. “So it seems.” There was a glow in her eyes, a softness in her features, a quality in her smile that Devlin had never seen before—as if, through the exchange of their hearts’ secrets, the true Therese had been freed. Freed to love—freed to be loved. He drew in a breath and, all but lost in the glory of her eyes, declared, “We are a pair, right enough. But our reality, my darling, is here and now. Whatever our past mistakes, our past weaknesses and shortcomings, we’ve seen the light. Can we go forward from here?” Her smile conveyed all the joy and ready agreement he could wish for. “That would be my greatest, most fervent wish.” He basked in the warmth of her silver-blue gaze. “It’s mine as well, so I believe that settles it.” He rose from the chair and, without releasing her hand, swung to prop his hip beside her on the bed, then leaned over her and kissed the lips she tipped her head back and offered. A long, slow, achingly simple kiss ensued, one laden with love, acknowledged and claimed, and with the shining promise of a glorious future informed by, anchored by, and invested with the irrefutable power of mutual love. The caress spun out and on, each feeding the other, each hungry and needing, until reluctantly, he raised his head. He drew in a strained breath, glanced at the white band encircling her head, and grimaced. “Sadly, your wound precludes any immediate demonstration of our mutual ardor.” Therese stared at him. “Really?” When he tried to ease back, she gripped his hand tighter. “It doesn’t hurt that much. Truly.” He hesitated, and she hoped, but then his features firmed and he shook his head. “I’ve no doubt that Sanderson will call later today to check on your recovery, and if he discovers his handiwork dramatically disarranged, he isn’t above hauling me over the coals, earl or not.” She huffed, released him, and slumped on the pillows, openly frustrated. “He’s not above lecturing me, either.”