Bride Enchanted by Edith Layton Page B

so long. He still couldn’t believe his good fortune in finding her. He’d pored through books, and tested memories, his own and others, and at last he’d found her. She would conceive his long-awaited son, if not at first, then at last. And at last, he’d be content. He hoped she would be too. He could assure it. Though in some small way, he regretted it. That surprised him; he never had regretted anything he’d done before.
    But that was why he’d sought her out, and why he so prized her. Because she was like him as no other mortal woman had ever been. He treasuredher and would continue to, for so long a time as they would have together. And, he thought, with sad surprise, maybe for long after too.
    Then, refreshed and reborn in the cool quiet night, he caught up his robe, donned it again, and went back into his house.
    He stepped softly into the bedchamber, and paused by her side. The moonlight lit her face where she lay dreaming on her pillow. He looked at her with tenderness. Those tousled curls framing her face were silvered by the night. Charming, she was, he thought, innocent and wise, honest to a fault, and utterly giving.
    He was sorry for many things, but even so, for all he pitied her, he couldn’t be sorry for having her. They would together change the world. His world. He’d make sure she’d find peace and happiness in her own as well. He bent to kiss her. Her eyes fluttered open and looked at him with a steady gaze. He was surprised.
    â€œWhere were you?” she asked, touching his dew dampened hair.
    â€œI went out into the moonlight, to think,” he said truthfully. “I didn’t want to wake you by stirring too much in our bed,” he added, lying.
    â€œWhy couldn’t you sleep?” she asked.
    â€œBecause I couldn’t be sure of dreaming ofyou,” he said, knowing it was the perfect thing to say.
    And it was. They lay down together, and he took her back into his arms. She shivered at the chill of his body, but her own warmth soon warmed him. She slept again. He closed his eyes and gave thanks, again.

Chapter 8
    T he night was almost done, and gray shadows in the sky showed the coming dawn. Eve woke and stretched and yawned. She felt Aubrey stirring beside her, so she rose on one elbow to peer over his shoulder and look down into his face. He turned his head.
    â€œIs it wrong to love what we do as much as I do?” she asked worriedly, glad of the dim light that hid her blushes.
    â€œIt’s the rightest thing in the world,” he said.
    She sighed. “But I shock myself. I used to be such a proper young woman.”
    â€œLoving lovemaking with your husband is perfectly proper,” he said. He sighed too now, growing weary, wondering how often he’d said that before, other places, other times
    â€œIs it wrong to do the things we do when we make love?” she asked seriously.
    â€œWe do the things that please us. We were told to worship each other with our bodies and our hearts, weren’t we?”
    â€œBut some things…” she said doubtfully.
    He studied her carefully. “Have I ever made you do anything that frightened or disgusted you? Have I ever asked you to do anything against your will?”
    â€œYou’ve only ever pleased me and showed me how to please you, which pleased me more,” she said.
    â€œSo why are you so sad? Do you feel guilty? Misused?”
    â€œNo. Just surprised at myself. You know, I think I have it. You,” she finally said, “have ensorcelled me.”
    He’d been smiling but now his eyes widened and his breathing stilled.
    â€œYes,” she said, planting a light kiss on the tip of his nose. She put an arm on his other side, framing him, and raised herself until she lay half atop his hard body. She looked down into his face. “Bespelled me, you have. Cast a web of sensual pleasure upon me so that I forget time and place. But I’ve fought