Page 51 of The Truth Serum (My Lady’s Potions #2)

Her eyes widened as she spoke. She hadn’t meant to ask that.

She’d meant to ask him what he wanted. But instead, those words came out.

And once uttered, she did not take them back.

She knew he wanted her. He’d said as much from the beginning.

But now she had to know what kept them apart.

And that rested upon his fears. And hers.

“You are unsteady,” he said. “How do you feel?”

She heard the concern in his voice. And she felt it, too. He was genuinely concerned about her.

“I am fine. You?”

He swallowed. “So I will not be able to lie to you now?”

“Try it.”

“I have danced naked in African ceremonies covered only in white paint.”

She blinked, startled by his words. Worse, she couldn’t tell the truth or the lie of it. All she felt was his humor.

“Have you done that?”

“Not at all.” He dropped his head forward until it touched hers. “But I have spoken with those who have.”

“And I have sewn purple dresses to be worn by the King of England.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I wore it first.”

He laughed at that, the humor seeming to sparkle around them in tiny flashes of joy.

“I should love to see you in a gown of purple velvet.”

She smiled, feeling as if they were starting to meet each other in this strange place of truth.

It wasn’t so much that they couldn’t lie to one another, but that they were feeling each other more.

Their emotions were clearly communicated to one another.

A lie would require a separation between them that would be noticeable.

He touched her cheek. “So this is the truth serum?”

She nodded, feeling the arousal that came with his touch and the desire that vibrated between them. But she needed some answers before she surrendered to it. Before she gave herself completely to him.

So she stepped back. “What is your fear, Nate?”

“I have many of them,” he said. “But you can guess them all. I fear that you will be hurt. I fear that you don’t love me. I fear that just when everything is perfect, it will be ripped away.”

She felt the truth in his words. Indeed, it was as though she could see him opening to her gaze. It was the bravest thing she’d ever seen. And then he said the cruelest thing she’d ever heard.

“But it is not my fears that are keeping us apart. It is yours.”

She frowned. “I have no fears. Only excitement at the possibilities ahead. I have my own money and establishment now. At least for the summer. I have work ahead if I want it.” She touched his arm. “I have a man who says he will marry me.”

“All true. And yet, here we are, still talking, still discussing when we should be acting.”

“I am not the reason we are apart,” she said. And even she could hear the discordance in her words. From the moment she had arrived in London, he had stated his desire. He wanted to be with her. And she was the one who distrusted him.

She felt her face flush. They both knew she’d lied.

“How many of my books have you read?” he asked.

She blinked. “All of them.” Those she had missed before, she’d greedily read after she’d learned he was the author.

“And what did you think of them?”

“I loved them, of course.” It was true.

He smiled, and this time his fingers stroked down her arms. “What a pair we are. I wrote stories glorifying my love for you, but I never went home to find you. And you read those stories about you, but you never stepped off the page to find me.”

“I didn’t know!” she said. “No one knows you wrote them.”

He nodded. “And you have believed all the lies you were told about me.”

She frowned.

“You are no damsel in distress, Becca. You are not my princess to rescue nor the trapped girl in Cornwall who could never escape. You were just told that, and you believed it.”

She frowned at him. “And where could I have gone?”

“Exactly where you wanted to go. You went to Mrs. Chenoweth and trained with her. You wandered throughout the county—”

“I didn’t wander! I was treating people. Helping and learning.”

He nodded. “Exactly. You did as you wanted.” He smiled. “And I admire you for it. So now, you are being invited to help your country. It is something you say you want. Why are you hesitating?”

“I’m not. I’m thinking about it.”

He arched a brow. “What are you thinking?”

“That… That…” She had no words, and that wasn’t like her. But fear echoed in the air between them, which is when she realized he was right. It wasn’t his fear that was stopping them. It was hers.

“Don’t think,” he urged. “Just tell me what you’re feeling.”

Which would work if she had the words. Instead, she crumpled forward. She knew he’d catch her. And indeed, in a moment, she felt his arms around her. She felt his lips press into her forehead. And then she felt nothing else. Just him. His love. And his patience.

Then words spilled from her lips.

“I don’t want to do it alone.”

“You won’t. You never have to be alone if you don’t want to be.” He gently guided her to the settee. “If not me, then Lord Benedict and Major Vance will see you safe.”

“Benedict said I should be married.”

“There are things unmarried women can do. Becca, you are an independent woman now.”

“Only for three months!”

“Tell me you can’t convince Henry to make it permanent. You have been managing the household money since you were a teenager. The real question is how Henry will manage without you.”

Well, that was true.

“You are free, Becca. You can be alone if you want to be. Or not.”

She lifted her face to his. “Not.”

“But you are afraid.” It wasn’t a question.

She nodded.

“Because you don’t know if you can trust me. After all, you trusted Henry and your mother, and neither one paid any attention to what you wanted. You trusted Fletcher and discovered a million lies.”

Perhaps not a million, but close.

“And even I left you when you were sixteen. We were caught—”

“Papa died, and you disappeared.” She squeezed his arm. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“No, but the truth doesn’t change. I left.”

“So I went my own way, however I could.”

“So you have been betrayed by everyone. I suspect trusting me now would be hard.”

“But I do trust you!” she cried. And though part of her knew it was the truth, there was a small part who still wondered. Who feared.

He stroked her chin, pulling her gaze up to his. They stayed there, eye to eye for a long moment. Neither said a word, but she felt so many things.

She felt his arms around her as he supported her.

She felt safe here and cherished as she had never been.

She felt his desire for her, slowly climbing as was her own.

And she felt her defenses crack. Bits of the wall she’d built between them—between her and any man—began to break.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I guess I don’t completely trust you.”

He accepted it without complaint. Indeed, he didn’t seem surprised. “How can I prove myself to you? What do you need from me?”

Love.

The word reverberated in the air between them. She hadn’t asked for it or even said the word out loud. Perhaps he was just offering it. Either way, she felt tentative as she reached for it. Nothing was said, but she felt the decision nonetheless.

Imagine having to choose to accept love. Shouldn’t that be easy?

It wasn’t. And yet, he was worth it.

So she let her defenses crumble. She allowed her heart and mind to open to his love. She felt it slip in quietly through the cracks. And then it became everything. It filled her. It warmed her. It was…

Perfect.

“No more lies,” she said, meaning she would not lie to herself anymore.

Of all the people in her life, he had been the most consistent.

He’d tried to protect her. He’d given her his trust. And even if he hadn’t shown her everything he was, she knew enough.

And there would be time to learn everything else.

“No more lies,” he echoed. Then he waited until he had her full attention. She gave it to him. Indeed, she couldn’t look away if she tried.

“I love you Becca. I always will. Which means I shall do everything I can to protect you, even if you want to become a spy.” He leaned forward. “I’ve never wanted to clip your wings, but you can’t fault me for wanting to catch you, should you fall.”

“I want you to catch me,” she said.

“Anything else?”

She smiled. “I want to marry you. I love you, too.”

There it was. They’d both said it and the truth of it reverberated in the room around them. And once said, once expressed in the most honest and open way possible, she decided to express it other ways.

She pressed her mouth to his, kissing him with all the heat and the love she felt inside. He returned it a thousand-fold, not just with his lips and tongue but with the truth swirling around them.

He loved her, and she opened herself up to him completely.

He was slow to undress her. She let him take his time because every touch of his fingers, every brush of fabric against her skin was like a further unfolding. She felt like she was shedding not just her clothes, but the restraint of every lie she had been told about what she could and could not do.

And the biggest lie of all was that she was a poor judge of character. She was an excellent judge! It was only that she had thought the others could see what she saw. In herself. In Nate. In the world.

“I love you,” she whispered to him as she at last stepped out of her chemise. “I love every part of you. Even the parts that I am only just learning.”

She took her time pulling his clothing away. He appeared equally sensitized. His breath caught every time they touched skin to skin. And when he could caress her, he did so with reverence as awe trembled between them.

“I love you,” he said as he drew her naked breast into his mouth.

She arched into him as he teased her nipple with his tongue. And when he began to suck, her knees lost their strength.

He carried her to her bed then. It was an impressive feat given that they were in the parlor and he had quite a few steps to take. But he seemed effortlessly strong to her. And she relaxed into his power, his strength, and the absolute love she saw in his eyes.

“I love you,” she whispered as he set her on the bed.

“I love every part of you,” he answered as he began to kiss her ribs, her belly, her mons.

She let him spread her legs, opening herself up to his fingers as they thrust inside her. And she grinned when he let her explore his cock as he had never allowed before.

Odd how she felt his every gasp as if it were her own. Glorious that he seemed to revel in her responses. Amazing that they could feel each other this way and know it was the truth.

“Ask me again,” she whispered when he settled between her thighs.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes.”

“Are you sure about this?” he asked as he pressed his tip at her entrance. “Once we do this, I will not be stopped. Not now, and not tomorrow when I drag you to church.”

“Not now, not tomorrow, not ever.”

Then she surged upward, using his shoulders for leverage. She arched as she did so, and with her legs wrapped around his thighs, she pulled him inside.

A single quick thrust, and it was done.

She was his. And he was hers.

“I love you,” he said as he began to move.

“I love you,” she echoed as her body paced itself to him.

And then there was no more talking. Only feeling. Bodies moving, tension mounting. And love. It echoed around them, through them, within them.

When climax hit, it felt like the smallest piece of this glorious experience.

Physical ecstasy.

Soul to soul connection.

Love.

In the morning, when the serum had worn off, and they were face to face with each other, they did it all again.

Then, to her surprised delight, he did indeed take her to the nearest church. He had the special license in his pocket. He’d gotten it a week before and had been waiting on her.

They were married that afternoon.

It took them another week, though, before they met with Lord Benedict to map out their very exciting future.