Page 19 of A Diamond for Christmas (Diamonds of the First Water #6)
“ A re you awake?” Caroline whispered.
Geoffrey yawned and rolled over, seeing her green eyes open and her glorious red hair spread out upon the pillow. He grinned.
“We just had our first full night in bed as husband and wife,” he said, as if it was a revelation she might not have realized.
She nodded. “And it’s Christmas day. How did we forget?”
“I guess we had other things on our minds.” He still did, and he started to reach for her.
“Luckily, I have a gift for you, something I was working on in the carriage during our journey to Gretna Green. I thought up a poem and memorized it.”
“I thought you were sleeping quite a bit. I didn’t realize someone could snore while dreaming up poetry.”
She smacked his shoulder. “I do not snore. And I promise you, I was fashioning a poem. I haven’t had a chance to write it down, but as your Christmas present, I shall recite it for you.”
He drew the sheet and blanket down to expose her bare breasts.
“Go ahead.” But one of his hands stroked the sensitive area at her waist, making her shiver .
She laughed. “You are being wicked and will make me forget my poetry.”
“Very well. I will behave.” He placed his palm on her stomach, then brushed back and forth with the pad of his thumb, which was even more distracting.
Taking a breath, she began:
“Like Romeo and Juliet, we were thwarted from the start.
Yet unlike her, I shall not end with a dagger in my heart.”
Geoffrey startled at her choice of words. “Caroline, that’s rather —”
“ Shh, I’m not finished!” She cleared her throat and continued.
“At first, I wondered ‘wherefore art thou Diamond?’
A name I was not allowed to love nor to dance.”
“You can’t dance with a name,” he pointed out, feeling the hint of laughter stirring inside him. She shook her head to silence him.
“What’s in a name? I asked. By any other, you would still smell like a rose.”
He bit his lower lip wanting to giggle.
“ And for the rest of my life, my full heart will happily prance.”
“Stop, please,” he begged. Her poem was so awful he knew he would be unable to hold in his laughter any longer.
“But there is much more,” Caroline protested. “Don’t you want to hear about my boundless love? The more I have, the more I give to you for both are infinite.”
He chuckled. “You just mangled one of Shakespeare’ s best lines.”
She blinked innocently, then she shrugged. “I couldn’t possibly say it any better. I was teasing you. I really was sleeping in the carriage.”
“Thank God. Your poem was dreadful.”
“I’ll say only this — I am glad you stumbled into me at the Fenwicks’ ball.”
“‘They stumble that run fast,’ said the Bard’s Friar Lawrence.”
Scrunching up her nose, Caroline shook her head. “I don’t think that applies, or at least, I hope not.”
He leaned over and placed a kiss on the gentle curve of her stomach.
“I think you’re correct. Our story is already faring much better than Romeo and Juliet’s. Let’s forget about them. Besides, I don’t need anything more from you. You have presented me with the most wonderful gift already. Quite simply, you gave me yourself.”
Again, he kissed her stomach, and while he was deciding whether to move up or down, he added, “I am the one who must think of what to give you on this special day.”
She stroked his hair, her fingers threading through it, tugging gently.
“Dearest husband, how many women can say they received a Diamond for Christmas? I need nothing else.”
He began to kiss a trail along her body.
“On the other hand,” she said, her breath catching in her throat when his tongue touched her, “it would be rude of me to turn down your generosity.”
“Merry Christmas, Wife.”
“Merry Christmas, Husband.”