Free Lisbon: Richard and Rose, Book 8 by Lynne Connolly

promise to try,” he murmured.
    I tipped up my chin and met his blue gaze, so close, so beloved. I sank into him, willingly gave everything I was to him. “Thank you.”
    He took a breath, his nostrils flaring. “God, I’ve missed this. Your scent, so unique. I could remember it, but I could never replicate it. But I can’t, sweetheart. Let me take it slowly. You know how difficult I find intimacy. You and the children have helped, but I fear I will never lose that reserve.”
    “You shouldn’t. You wouldn’t be you without it. And you helped me so much, when I needed to develop a shell. But not with me, Richard.”
    He gave me a tight smile. “Not you. But I can’t give you everything you want.”
    Feeling his erection pressed hard against my stomach, I thought he probably could. I hungered for him. He could nourish me as no food ever did, give me what my soul needed. Always. “You try too hard.”
    “Maybe I do.” He sighed, his breath sweeping over my cheek, raising the small hairs on my neck. I wanted him so badly. “But here’s the truth, the real reason. Are you listening, my love?”
    To hear the words “sweetheart” and “my love” came as a balm to me. He hadn’t used them so much recently. “I’m listening, Richard.”
    He closed his eyes then opened them again, fixing his gaze on mine. They blazed with barely restrained passion, revealing his desires to me for the first time in months, and I knew hope.
    “I thought to kill my love for you, or at the least mute it. Just to preserve you, to preserve us . I thought I could do it. But I can’t. God help me, I can’t. I love you, adore you as helplessly as I ever did.”
    His hands shifted, slid over the slippery silk of my robe, his fingers caressing my back, tracing the line of my spine. “I can’t see you turn away from me, treat me as many wives treat their husbands. As friends, partners. We have that as well, but so much more. But I can’t make love to you. Not yet. Please believe me. And because of that I can’t share your bed. I can’t sleep with you and not want you, not love you. I’ll try, but don’t press me too hard. We’ll find a way, my love. We have to. Before the birth of the triplets, I had one consolation. My mother doesn’t consider females important, so I could have left Helen in the care of Gervase as her guardian, where she would receive a loving and careful upbringing.”
    My stomach tensed. I had a feeling I knew what he was about to say, but I didn’t want to anticipate his words. He had to explain in his way, and I had to be strong and listen to him.
    He gave a wry smile. “You know what I mean already, don’t you? This isn’t sentiment speaking, it isn’t hyperbole, it’s the raw truth. If you died, I would have ensured I died too. There would be no reason to carry on. I could arrange it so it appeared to be an accident, so no opprobrium would fall on you or the family.”
    I whimpered, an involuntary sound, and he stopped, touching his lips to my brow in a featherlight kiss. “I have seen much, done much. But without you, it would have no point. I’d join you. You made me promise to live on, once, and I planned to beg you to withdraw it. Then you shocked me by giving me three sons. Three, and they all lived.”
    I knew for sure what he’d say, but I wouldn’t make it easy for him. I lifted my head again and met his gaze. The little muscles around his jaw tensed, but he didn’t look away. “I love the babies, as I love Helen. I can’t leave them alone or in the care of Gervase because my mother would never allow it. She’d expose Gervase without a qualm, destroy his happiness in order to get her hands on the boys. Then she’d give them the same childhood that Gervase and I suffered. I can’t have that, my love. I can’t bear the thought of my children having their humanity beaten out of them, being told that family means all, individuals nothing. In time, she’d remove Dickon from the others