“I’m crazy about you, Sylvie Darois,” he managed to say as she wrapped herself around him.

“Back at you,” she whispered, and then she gasped as he joined them together for the first time.

He pressed inside her, the heat and tightness making him damn near lose his mind, but he held back. He somehow managed to find a rhythm that soon had her calling out his name, her nails digging deliciously into his back before he allowed himself to let go.

Then he was the one calling for her, slipping over the edge in the best way possible.

When it was over, he curled himself around her and vowed to never let her go.

*   *   *

Late in the night, Sylvie turned on her side and stared down at Rene, his gorgeous face illuminated in the candlelight. It played along his skin, softening even that razor-edge jawline. Or maybe it was the hint of scruff coming in. Either way, he was beautiful.

I’m crazy about you, Sylvie Darois.

It wasn’t I love you. It wasn’t the exact words she’d longed to hear, but maybe that was all right. After all, he’d shown her so much he’d kept hidden. He’d shown her the passionate lover underneath all that politeness.

“Are you cold?” His eyes came open, steady on her. “I can get another blanket.”

She shook her head. She’d actually kicked off most of the covers. “No. You’re a furnace. Seriously, you give off a lot of heat.”

“Then I’ll be good to have around in the winter.” He wrapped an arm around her and she suddenly found herself on her back, Rene looming over her. “I’ll get you a fan for the rest of the year. You’ll have to put up with it.”

He was forgetting their living arrangements. “But I’ve got my own room.”

“Which you will not be sleeping in anymore. Or you can sleep in it and I’ll sneak into your bed every night.” He stared down at her. “This changes things.”

She knew it did. She felt it deep down, but she needed to hear him say it. They’d said a lot with their bodies tonight, but it was time to use words. “How? We’re still in the same place we were before.”

“No, we’re not. We consummated this marriage, and now it’s real.”

He was so old-fashioned. She didn’t blame him. He’d been raised in Papillon. “It’s only as real as we make it. You’re not trapped into anything.”

She was starting to wonder if he was the one trying to do the trapping. Not in a bad way, but in a very Rene fashion. When Rene wanted something, he moved in and captured it. At least that was always the way it had seemed to her.

“Are you saying you don’t want to make it real?”