there’s no real problem,’ he stated.
‘I’m glad you think so.’
‘We can get married—’
‘What?’
‘We can get married,’ he repeated patiently.
‘Married!’
‘As there’s a possibility you may be pregnant…’
‘It’s only a possibility.’
‘I’d sooner we got married at once rather than waiting to be certain.’
‘B-but we’ve only just met,’ she stammered. ‘We don’t really know each other.’
‘Both those things can soon be remedied. Do you have any other quibbles?’
‘We come from totally different backgrounds,’ she protested.
‘Does that matter?’
‘It might well.’
‘I don’t happen to think so. Once we’re married—’
‘I can’t marry you,’ she gasped.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I can’t,’ she insisted raggedly.
A razor-sharp edge to his voice, he asked, ‘Are you in love with someone else?’
‘No.’
‘Sure about that?’
‘Quite sure. If I’d been in love with someone else, last night would never have happened.’
He nodded as if satisfied.
‘And, as I was as much to blame as you, there’s no need to…’ She hesitated and stopped, biting her bottom lip.
‘Go all Victorian and propose?’ he suggested.
‘Exactly.’
Tongue-in-cheek, he said, ‘Perhaps I feel that it’s my duty as, at the very least, I’ve compromised you.’
‘I wish you wouldn’t joke about it.’
‘Very well, I’ll be serious. Hand on my heart, I’d like you to marry me.’
When she began to shake her head, his voice quizzical, he asked, ‘Do I take it you can’t stand the sight of me?’
‘No, it’s not that at all.’
‘But you really don’t want to be my wife?’ he pressed.
She did want to be his wife. Shaken by the knowledge, which came clear and sharp and certain, she hesitated.
His eyes on her expressive face, he persisted, ‘So what’s the problem?’
Pulling herself together, she informed him, ‘I couldn’t marry a man who doesn’t love me, who only suggested marriage because I might be pregnant.’
‘But I didn’t only suggest marriage because you might be pregnant. If you had been protected I would still have asked you to marry me.’
‘You must have an over-developed sense of chivalry,’ she said, her voice tart.
He raised a level brow. ‘How do you work that out?’
‘I take it it’s because I’m a guest in your house. Presumably you don’t propose to all the women you go to bed with?’
‘Neither do I rush them into it.’
‘As I allowed myself to be rushed into it, the responsibility’s mine. You don’t have to marry me,’ Charlotte snapped.
‘I happen to want to,’ he said quietly.
‘Why?’
Reaching out a hand, he took her chin and turned her face towards his. ‘Would you believe it if I told you that when we met for the first time my heart stood still?’
Hurt and angered by his mockery, she said tightly, ‘No, I wouldn’t.’
‘Pity, as it happens to be the truth.’
When, hardly able to believe her ears, she simply stared at him, he went on softly, ‘I thought you were the most exquisite creature I’d ever set eyes on, and I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman. Happy now?’
Suddenly she was. Ecstatically happy. ‘Yes.’
‘Then you’ll marry me?’
‘What will your grandfather say?’
‘Don’t worry, he’ll be pleased. He took an instant liking to you.’
‘I’m glad… I like him.’
‘Good. But you still haven’t answered my question. Will you marry me?’
She should have said she needed a clear head, time to think. Instead, under his spell, she found herself agreeing, ‘Yes, I’ll marry you.’
His little smile was that of a conqueror as he tilted her face up to his and kissed her.
The stubble of his beard rasped her lips and, her stomach clenching, she opened her mouth to his searching tongue.
While he deepened the kiss, forcing her head back against the pillows, his hands found the rounded curves of her breasts and the pink nipples firmed under his touch.
With a stifled gasp she ran her fingers into his thick blond hair, holding him to her, while desire rose inside her. It flowed from the centre of her being like red-hot lava, swamping everything but her need for him.
Slipping the shirt from her shoulders, he tossed it aside and eased her onto her back, kissing her closed eyelids, her cheekbones, her throat, while one hand slid down over her ribcage and stomach to the silky skin of her inner thighs.
She was shivering, but it had nothing to do with the cool air of the room, as she abandoned herself to his experienced fingers. When his mouth took the place of his fingers she had to bite her lip to stop herself crying out.
His lovemaking was infinitely skilled and gentle, coaxing the maximum sensation from her body while he kept her just on the brink.
Finally, unable to stand any more, she begged huskily, ‘Please, oh, please…’ and felt his weight with gratitude.
This time, showing a steely control over his own body and hers, he moved with maddening slowness. Drawing shuddering thrills from her, he withdrew to the very tip before pressing back again, creating a slow spiralling need that built into a white-hot molten core of tension.
Only
