Page 9 of Dukes All Night Long

Two Years Later

T he morning light filtered softly through the mullioned windows of Rosemont Hall, gilding the edges of the nursery with a golden haze. They’d retreated to the countryside when she’d discovered she was with child the first time, and had not left since. They had created their own idyllic world.

Outside, birdsong filled the early morning spring air, and the estate beyond the glass was awash with the pale green promise of new life. But within these walls, nestled in a bed of lace and down, it was a darker-haired promise that stirred with gentle sounds of waking.

Colin stood beside the cradle, one large hand gently stroking the small back of the boy who bore his name—and, perhaps regrettably, his stubborn disposition.

“He refuses to sleep unless you’re holding him,” he said, turning toward the woman lounging nearby on the chaise.

Her hands rested atop the slight rounding of her abdomen, where their second child was growing within her.

Her eyes were only at half mast, the remnants of her afternoon nap leaving her languid.

Verity smiled, slow and radiant, brushing a loose curl from her brow. “He is only a year old. And he is clever. He’s already learned the power of affection—and how to demand it.”

“Then God help us as he grows.”

“I should think you’d be proud. He is so very like you.”

Colin arched a brow. “You mean loud and insatiable?”

Her laugh—low, sweet, and warm as honey—wrapped around him like a balm. “Exactly.”

He crossed to her, unable to resist the sight of her there—glowing with motherhood, flushed with contentment, her eyes brighter than he had ever seen them.

Her body had softened, changed in ways he found endlessly fascinating, but her beauty had only deepened.

She had become the center of his universe so gradually and so completely that he scarcely remembered what life had been before her.

She tilted her head up as he approached, her lips already parted in anticipation of his kiss.

“I love you,” he murmured as he sank to his knees before her, resting his hands upon her thighs. “More than I can ever say.”

“You show me,” she said, her voice catching. “Every day, you show me.”

His lips brushed the curve of her belly, the fabric of her gown warm beneath his mouth. Their second child kicked in answer, a firm, impatient reminder of the life they had made and were making still.

He looked up at her. “Are you happy, Verity?”

Tears shimmered in her eyes, but they did not fall. “Blissfully so. I have everything I ever dreamed of. And more.”

He stood then, lifting her gently from the chaise. She nestled against him as though she had always belonged in his arms—and she had.

“Come back to bed,” he said. “Our son will sleep for at least an hour, and I have… ideas.”

Her brow lifted, teasing. “Ideas?”

“A few indecent ones. All involving you. And very little clothing.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“And you adore me.”

She laughed again, pressing a kiss to his throat. “I do. Entirely.”

He carried her from the nursery with that smile on his lips—the one that belonged only to her. And though the day had only just begun, their passion, their joy, and their love burned as brightly as it had on the very first night they had found their way back to one another.

If not brighter.

The End