Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

T he sun barely lit the sky when Savannah opened her eyes again. She'd spent the night in Tristan's arms and though she seriously thought about it, already knew her answer. She wanted that future with him.

Tristan's lips brushed her shoulder, which still stung from her fall yesterday. Savannah ignored it. There were more important things on her horizon than a little shoulder pain. Like making love to Tristan again.

"When I was in Riga, I saw beautifully laid out parks. They rebuilt after the French burned much of the city's perimeter," Tristan whispered over her skin, his hands sliding around her waist and up to cup her breasts. "They were beautiful…peaceful."

His choice of words surprised her, and Savannah decided not to hide it. This was their second chance, as he said. She'd not squander it on keeping her own feelings secret. "That might be the first time I've ever heard you use such a word." Her head fell back, resting on his shoulder. She didn't stop either his kisses or his words. "I know you to be many things. Peaceful is not one of them."

He laughed, a low, soft sound that brushed over her skin, reminding her of all they'd shared. And all they could—and would—again. His fingers lazily tweaked her nipples, teeth nipping the sensitive space between shoulder and neck.

"The only time I've ever known true peace is in your arms." He paused, pressing his lips hard against the side of her throat to forestall whatever protest he thought she might make.

Savannah had none, had no words at all. Her heart thudded so loudly she wouldn't have been surprised if he heard it. If the entirety of the house heard it. Licking her lips, she willed her heart to stay quiet, wishing her mind would speak instead. Once more, he spoke first.

"I've spoke of it before, and I know I haven't been clear no matter how hard I try." He shook his head. His fingers resumed their delicious torture, his mouth kissing along the side of her neck. "My heart missed you every day. I constantly thought of you. Those adventures I craved would've been so much more enthralling if you'd been there."

"But you didn't ask," she reminded him, heartache once more twisting through her. That betrayal. Would it ever stop hurting?

After last night, Savannah had thought so. Hoped so. Now, even in his arms, her blood heating, her arousal pooling hot between her legs, she had no idea.

"It took me three attempts to explain and almost losing you again, but I realize why." He huffed out a breath and rested his hand over Savannah's. He lifted her hand and kissed her palm, turning her so she faced him. "I was scared."

"Scared?" Savannah froze at the admission, half risen on her knees over him. Her head jerked upward, and she stared at him in shock and disbelief. She had not expected that answer. "Of what? Me? Us?"

"Of disappointing you," he whispered.

"I don't understand." Head tilted, she watched him in the lightening day. They hadn't bothered closing the drapery last night, and now the dawn cast him in burgeoning light. It highlighted his eyes, serious as they held hers.

"It's nagged at me." He didn't look away, didn't distract her. He held her hand, solemn and sincere. "When I was fighting that man last night, I kept thinking, Don't disappoint her. Not again. And definitely don't die. "

"Good," she quipped primly despite their current position. "I'd have been most vexed."

His lips ghosted into a smile. "I hadn't realized I'd been thinking that same thing for the last three years. Or some version of it. Don't disappoint Savannah. Don't let her realize the truth about you ."

Try as she might, Savannah couldn't clear her face of its frown. Nor could she ignore the confusion that seeped into her. "I don't understand. What truth? I know everything about you." She paused and squeezed his arm. "Everything about your family."

The secrets he'd told only her, the ones that his siblings had insisted were meant for the person he trusted most. His mother's heritage as the daughter of an Egyptian soldier and a Turkish sultana. His father's compulsion with the drink and opium.

The reasons he never drank, never gambled.

"I wouldn't spill your secrets," she added in a slight huff, not at all certain where this conversation was headed. "No matter what."

"I know," he said quickly. "Savannah, I know. It's not about that. You do know me best." His lips twisted into a wry grin. "Better than I know myself."

She huffed. Settling on the bed beside him, all thoughts of making love again vanished in the face of his confession. Now that she wasn't near his warmth, she shivered and tugged the bedding around her. "Please explain."

"It wasn't Philip's grand stories about adventure," he began, shifting so he faced her. "Not entirely. Something else pushed me—farther, faster, do more, see more, help more."

Savannah nodded slowly. She couldn't brace for his next words; he'd already surprised her. Something in her shifted, and she had a feeling it was the wall surrounding her heart. Its last pieces falling away. Part of her tried to grab onto them, rebuild that wall that kept her safe from pain.

"I hadn't realized it, not fully, until last night. Even when I rescued—" He made a face, a grimace that turned into a smile—" stole Jiesha. When I liberated the two office workers. I know now that same thought raced through my mind. Don't disappoint Savannah ."

"If you had stayed, do you think you'd have disappointed me?" she whispered, the words pulled from her syllable by syllable. "That us being together, building a life, would have disappointed me?"

"I think I was afraid that if I had stayed, if the life we'd planned came to fruition, then I'd still have disappointed you. Somehow, some way."

"You can't have known that," she snapped, more confused now than when they'd started this conversation. "No one can know the future."

"No, you're right." He looked away, over her shoulder at the wall behind her, and shook his head. "Was I scared of marrying you? No. Of a life with you? No." He took her hand again and held it tight in his. "I always wanted to be your knight in shining armor. The perfect man for the woman I loved and worshipped."

"There's no such thing as perfection," she said quietly. Savannah felt as if the words echoed around the room.

"I know that now. I know that the only thing that disappointed you was me leaving. That any conversation we would've shared about this before would've been smarter, far more preferable to me sailing away for three years in a stupid attempt at finding myself."

"And have you?" She tilted her head, watching him carefully.

He was different. Changed. More at peace, though until he'd used that word, she'd never have herself. Not when it came to Tristan. Constantly on the move, constantly learning, implementing his knowledge. He was the smartest person she knew; at one time he planned to study law. He read all the journals—astronomical, farming and horticultural, veterinary, medicine, even the newly expanding area of natural science.

He rarely slept, always telling her there was so much to do in this life.

"Have you found that peace?"

"Yes, I think so. Finally," he added with another twist of his lips and a squeeze to her hand. "Now that I'm back here. With you."

Tristan didn't know how much of that conversation made any sense. How much sounded like a rambling attempt at putting emotion into words and how much sounded cohesive. If any of it had.

"I can see the change," Savannah said as she shifted again, tugging him onto the bed beside her.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders but instead of kissing him, nodded slowly. Whatever change she saw, Tristan felt. Pulling her closer, he kissed her jaw and rolled onto his back, settling them comfortably together.

"At first, I thought it was because of the distance between us. Three years is a long time. I thought perhaps I hadn't known you as well as I'd assumed, given—well, given you left with barely a word." Her hand squeezed his shoulder, and her voice softened. "But yes. That peace you speak of, that's what's different about you. What are your plans now?"

"They haven't changed," he said. "I still love you, perhaps more now than I did before." He chuckled, low and warm. "And if you're in doubt over whether I still want you, I hope last night put those worries at ease."

She laughed, a light breath of sound that banished his own worry. "Consider me put at ease."

They stayed like that in silence for a while, and Tristan once more felt that sense of peace.

"When you returned, I most certainly didn't want to give you a second chance. I'm not entirely sure what's changed since then, but something has."

She paused again, and he let her have this time, focused entirely on Savannah. She was, and always had been, the only person who mattered.

"We have this life to do with as we please." She met his gaze in the brightening dawn, which flickered enticingly in her dark eyes. "I don't wish to squander any more of our time together. I don't know if I still love you or if I have fallen in love with you again—but I know that what I feel for you now is stronger than I ever thought it could be."

"I love you, Savannah," he whispered. "More than I have words to express. More than any apology can say."

Tristan moved then, rolling her beneath him and kissing her. He wanted to ask her to marry him. Again. Wanted to plan a future—a new future—together. For right now, with her naked body beneath his and the morning lightning the room, all he wanted was to taste her. Feel her shudder around him, hear her breathless cries as she orgasmed.

He urged her higher onto the bed and knelt before her, dancing his fingers up her legs. Kissing her bare skin, he smiled when he felt her thighs tremble and her breath catch. His fingers teased closer, and he nipped the sensitive skin on her inner thigh. She'd always loved that.

Savannah shuddered beneath his touch, and his tongue darted out, caressing the light bite. Hands curling into the bedding, she opened her legs and urged him closer. Kissing along her inner thigh, he lightly teased her folds, rubbing lazy circles around her most sensitive place.

She whimpered, a low sound in the back of her throat.

"That's it, my Savannah." He slipped a finger into her, kissing along her thigh. She gasped and clenched around him, hips arching into his touch. "Let go for me."

He loved teasing her, tasting her. He knew the pace was slow and playful, that she wanted more, craved that orgasm he kept just out of reach. But Tristan wanted to hear her scream.

"Yes," he whispered against her belly, fingers pressed harder against her clit. "Scream. Go on."

He scraped his nail over her clit, circling it as his fingers thrust into her. She gasped his name, and Tristan thought he'd never heard a more beautiful sound. She tightened around his fingers, nails digging into his shoulders as her orgasm crashed against her.

Tristan didn't say a word—he didn't have to. Instead, he gently kissed her hip, up her belly. Her chin, her cheek. Savannah opened her eyes, panting. He wanted to grin at the dazed look on her face, but then she nipped his throat and drew him closer until he settled between her thighs.

His nudged her throat, pressed soft kisses along her skin, inhaled the beautiful scent of her orgasm. His fingers brushed her core again, easily slipping in, and he teased her once more.

His beautiful Savannah arched against his touch, and she kissed him hard, nipping his bottom lip with a hint of desperation.

"Tristan," she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her fingers danced down his chest, teasing just above his cock. His breath caught in a growl when she caressed the tip of him. She ran her fingers over the head of his cock, then scraped her nails down to his balls.

Tristan shuddered against her, breathing deeply into the crook of her neck. Savannah guided him into her, humming breathlessly when he thrust hard. She rocked against him, nails trailing along his hips. When she raked them across the small of his back, his control snapped.

Steadying himself on his arms, he watched her as he thrust into her. Her head fell to the bedding, and her breath caught, fingers pressed hard against his sides. Tristan moved, thrusting hard into her welcoming body, his blood on fire, his entire being focused on her and her alone.

She met his every thrust, pressing her fingers to her nub, her lips parted, and she breathed his name, her hips meeting his with every thrust.

Tristan groaned even as she gasped something he didn't hear, and moved faster, thrusting harder into her. His teeth nipped her throat, found her lips again and kissed her hard.

Her nails dug into his back, hips meeting his as her orgasm crashed through her, and she cried out, eyes closed, his name falling from her lips.

He kissed her, a sloppy, bruising kiss, and pounded into her. It wouldn't be long—he was already on the edge—then he shattered, pulling out and shuddering in her arms.

Savannah caught him. She always had. Holding him tight as her own breathing evened out, Tristan knew he'd never let her slip away again.

"I love you," he whispered against her cheek. "Always."