The Welcoming

release. He was trapped between heaven and hell, and he gloried in it. In her. In them. He heard her sob out his name, felt the strength pour into her. She was with him as no one had ever been.
    Charity wrapped her arms around Roman to keep him from shifting away. “Don’t move.”
    “I’m hurting you.”
    “No.” She let out a long, long sigh. “No, you’re not.”
    “I’m too heavy,” he insisted, and compromised by gathering her close and rolling so that their positions were reversed.
    “Okay.” Satisfied, she rested her head on his shoulder. “You are,” she said, “the most incredible lover.”
    He didn’t even try to prevent the smile. “Thanks.” He stroked a possessive hand down to her hip. “Have you had many?”
    It was her turn to smile. The little trace of jealousy in his voice was a tremendous addition to an already glorious night. “Define
many.
”
    Ignoring the quick tug of annoyance he felt, he played the game. “More than three. Three is a few. Anything more than three is many.”
    “Ah. Well, in that case.” She almost wished she could lie and invent a horde. “I guess I’ve had less than a few. That doesn’t mean I don’t know an incredible one when I find him.”
    He lifted her head to stare at her. “I’ve done nothing in my life to deserve you.”
    “Don’t be stupid.” She inched up to kiss him briefly. “And don’t change the subject.”
    “What subject?”
    “You’re clever, DeWinter, but not that clever.” She lifted a brow and studied him in the lamplight. “It’s my turn to ask you if you’ve had many lovers.”
    He didn’t smile this time. “Too many. But only one who’s meant anything.”
    The amusement faded from her eyes before she closed them. “You’ll make me cry,” she murmured, lowering her head to his chest again.
    Not yet, he thought, stroking her hair. Soon enough, but not yet. “Why haven’t you ever gotten married?” he wondered aloud, “Had babies?”
    “What a strange question. I haven’t loved anyone enough before.” She winced at her own words, then made herself smile as she lifted her head. “That wasn’t a hint.”
    But it was exactly what he’d wanted to hear. He knew he was crazy to let himself think that way, even for a few hours, but he wanted to imagine her loving him enough to forgive, to accept and to promise.
    “How about the traveling you said you wanted to do? Shouldn’t that come first?”
    She shrugged and settled against him again. “Maybe I haven’t traveled because I know deep down I’d hate to go all those places alone. What good is Venice if you don’t have someone to ride in a gondola with? Or Paris if there’s no one to hold hands with?”
    “You could go with me.”
    Already half asleep, she laughed. She imagined Roman had little more than the price of a ferry ticket to his name. “Okay. Let me know when to pack.”
    “Would you?” He lifted her chin to look into her drowsy eyes.
    “Of course.” She kissed him, snuggled her head against his shoulder and went to sleep.
    Roman switched off the lamp beside the bed. For a long time he held her and stared into the dark.

Chapter 8
    Charity opened her eyes slowly, wondering why she couldn’t move. Groggy, she stared into Roman’s face. It was only inches from hers. He had pulled her close in his sleep, effectively pinning her arms and legs with his. Though his grip on her was somewhat guardlike, she found it unbearably sweet.
    Ignoring the discomfort, she lay still and took advantage of the moment by looking her fill.
    She’d always thought that people looked softer, more vulnerable, in sleep. Not Roman. He had the body of a fighter and the eyes of a man accustomed to facing trouble head-on. His eyes were closed now, and his body was relaxed. Almost.
    Still, studying him, she decided that, asleep or awake, he looked tough as nails. Had he always been? she wondered. Had he had to be? It was true that smiling lent a certain charm to his face. It lightened the wariness in his eyes. In Charity’s opinion, Roman smiled much too seldom.
    She would fix that. Her own lips curved as she watched him. In time she would, gently, teach him to relax, to enjoy, to trust. She would make him happy. It wasn’t possible to love as she had loved and not have it returned. And it wasn’t possible to share what they had shared during the night without his heart being as lost as hers.
    Sooner or later—sooner, if she had her way—he would come to