Chapter Eighteen

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             They made love all through the night. Every lingering bad thought seem to disappear in Dorian’s arms. She thought of nothing but their time spent together and the tenderness of his lovemaking. How could she have been so blind to her heart’s desire? Her heart seemed to expand within her chest for he displayed such gentleness in these precious moments.

            She yearned for his love and the urge to declare her own. She had feared of becoming his mistress but that no longer mattered for she craved these moments where she was open to express her waking desires in his embrace.

            Yet, the fear of his rejection, of being cast aside once she proclaimed her love was a dreaded worry. She had loss many dear to her heart and somehow, losing Dorian seemed the ultimate tragedy.

            No man had ever treated her so wonderfully, so kindly despite his own demons. The only man to love her unconditionally had been her beloved father, never once did she think to look upon a man and fall hopelessly in love.

            She imagined her belly growing with his child, a child with hair as black as the night and eyes like blue ice.

            Her mouth curved into a smile at the joy of having Dorian’s children and her hand fell flat to her belly. Could she now have a babe growing within her womb?

            She turned her head on the pillow to study Dorian’s sleeping face. In slumber, his face took on a boyish expression. She reached out and gently pushed aside a tendril of black hair. His face was smooth of any lines; those distinct lines that usually furrowed his brow whenever provoked. His face was soft and irrevocably handsome and she pictured the youth he had once been and her heart ached for the pain he must have endured in those fragile years.

            He vowed to protect her and keep her safe, but what of his torment? What of the suffering from his darkened childhood and the loss of his sister? Would he let down his barriers for her?

            She struggled with tears for she couldn’t imagine the magnitude of his heartache and grief that he kept so tightly concealed.

            Dorian awoke sometime later to find his bed empty. He shifted his body until he lay facing the side where the lovely smell of lavender drifted sweetly into his senses. Immediately he ached for her nearness and wondered after her absence. He would have seemingly enjoyed waking to find her curled against him; the thought brought an immediate grin to his face for he would have liked exploring her delectable curves while she slept.

            Never had his mind or body lingered on one particular woman for such a prolonged time. He had imagined after having her that he would have been satisfied and move on, as he had done previous times afore with countless women.

            But Ginelle was different. It seemed the more he took her, the more he wanted her and the thought of life without her was entirely intolerable. He no longer wanted to dwell among the shadows, drinking away his sorrows. After Eloise had died, he feared of living a nonexistent life; he feared loving again but what is life without love?

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