Page 36

“I know what I told you!” Gemma cried in frustration.

“But I was wrong!” The moment the words were out, she felt a great weight lifted from her shoulders.

But the fact that she had confessed such a thing made her heart thunder.

Here she was laying her feelings bare, and if her husband did not feel the same way…

She could hardly even fathom how painful such a thing would be.

Without the walls she had built up to protect herself, she felt impossibly vulnerable.

Wyatt stepped close to her again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Then what do you want?” he asked gently.

“I want to stay here with you. As your wife.” The words came out softer than Gemma had intended, as though there was a part of her that could not believe she was speaking them.

“And I want…” She swallowed. “I want you to spend the nights with me. I do not want you to just rush off back to your own bedchamber the moment we are finished.”

Wyatt smiled, pulling her into a deep kiss.

“There is nothing I would like more than that, Gemma.” He stroked her cheek.

“Tonight, after this infernal ball, you and I will spend the rest of the night curled up in each other's arms. And all of the next day too, if you wish it. And the one after that.”

Gemma felt warmth spreading through her chest. I love him. She knew there could be no denying it now.

“That sounds wonderful,” she murmured. Then she dared a cheeky smile. “Perhaps I might show you my new nightgown.”

Wyatt grinned. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

Gemma raised her dark eyebrows. “And what do you mean, 'this infernal ball?' The entire thing was your idea!”

Wyatt let out a breath. “I know, I know. I am an idiot.”

“Are you regretting it?” she asked curiously.

“Only because I can see how anxious it has made you,” Wyatt admitted, tracing his finger over her thumbnail. “That was not my intention at all. Although now I stop to think about it, I cannot see how it could have made you feel any other way.”

Gemma smiled, touched by his concern for her. “It is true, I was anxious about the ball. Or rather, I was dreading it. But not anymore.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“I know everything will be all right.” Gemma held her lips against his for a moment.

She rested her forehead against his for a moment.

Suddenly, she was brimming with confidence.

And something close to joy. Wyatt wanted her here.

He wanted her as his wife. He wanted to spend each night with her.

And admitting the way she felt had not been nearly as terrifying as she had imagined.

“Whatever happens, whatever people say, we will get through it together.”

“Indeed we will.” Wyatt grinned. A sudden seriousness fell over his face. “Gemma, I?—”

“Wyatt! Are you in there?!” The Duchess banged on the door so hard the vibrations rattled through Gemma's skull. “You have guests arriving! And where the devil is that wife of yours?”

Wyatt let out his breath in frustration, mouthing a silent apology to Gemma. She smiled in response. “Gemma and I shall be down in a moment, Mother,” Wyatt said firmly, his tone allowing for no argument.

The Duchess seemed to hesitate outside the door a moment, then her sharp footsteps clicked off down the staircase.

Gemma hurriedly tried to smooth her skirts. She could only imagine how creased the silk was at the back, given the way Wyatt had ravaged her up against the door. And as for the hairstyle Ivy had spent at least an hour crafting, she hardly dared imagine what state that was in.

“Goodness,” she breathed, “I must look a disaster.”

Wyatt grinned. He picked up one of her fallen combs from the floor and handed it to her.

Gemma rushed over to the mirror above the dressing table to examine the damage.

Her hair was not quite the bird's nest she had feared, but it certainly was not in the pristine state it had been when she had left Ivy.

She shoved the comb back into her carefully crafted curls, doing her best to tidy them.

Wyatt stood behind her in the mirror, kissing her neck. “You look perfect.”

Gemma laughed. “I look like I have just been ravaged by my husband.”

He grinned. “Yes. And that's why you look perfect.”

Gemma's heart swelled and she turned her head to kiss his lips.

She knew deep within her that Wyatt had been about to tell her he loved her.

All the doubts she had had about the way he felt about her had melted away.

A part of her cursed the Duchess for the interruption, but Gemma knew there would be plenty of time for she and her husband to tell each other how they truly felt.

After all, tonight, they would fall asleep in each other's arms. And every night after that.

Gemma knew Wyatt would speak those three words to her—three words that would change everything.

Perhaps she would also find the courage to tell him she loved him too. She was tired of denying it.

“Are you ready?” asked Wyatt.

Gemma drew in a breath and straightened her shoulders.

Whatever will be, will be. Let it come. We will handle it together.

She gripped her husband's hand and gave it a squeeze. “I am ready.”