He held a pearl-and-diamond ring out to her. The stones sparkled in the bright sunlight and the luminous pearl stole the very breath from the sea. It certainly robbedherof all good sense.
“I thought we’d discussed this, Wade.”
“That was before,” he argued. “Things are different now, wouldn’t you agree? You believe that a marriage ought to be properly and regularly consummated or such an alliance would be unjust, unhappy. I argue that we make a damned good team, and I could not possibly be any happier than I am in your arms.”
He was accustomed to her armor of contrariness, and knew how to manage her stubborn side, saying, “I want to marry you because I love you, but if we never married, I’d not love you any less. Surely, you know that.”
Wade tucked the ring back into his waistcoat and pulled her into his arms. He wrapped her in a tight embrace, crossing his arms over her breasts as she tucked against his chest. They stared out over the cove for a long, silent moment.
“I did not bring you to Cornwall to make you my mistress, Cassie. I brought you here to show you that I was worthy of you. That I could give you everything you’ve ever wanted—a comfortable home, a household to run, endless duties to keep you busy.”
They both laughed, and he squeezed her tighter. Cassandra felt his heart racing in his chest, drumming against her spine. He was nervous, she knew.
“I can give you adventure and love. Lots and lots, and lots of love. I don’t want a mistress,” Wade continued, “Have you noticed that I have not once called you so? You’ve always beenthemistress—the mistress of Pender Abbey—but you aren’t my mistress.”
It was true. She had never heard him refer to her as such. She had called herself his mistress, yet he had always called her his lover. Now, he wanted to call her his wife.
She wanted nothing more than to share his name and his bed for the rest of her days. She could not, however, allow him to enter blindly into an alliance—no matter how personally rewarding—that could destroy the dukedom.
He might loathe his destiny, but Cassandra respected the importance of the position he’d been born to. “You ought to have children, Wade. You need an heir.”
“I need nothing and no one but you.”
“You are so good with them,” she argued. “I’ve seen how protective you are of Leah Caswell, how understanding. You’d make an excellent father.”
“I am already an excellent uncle—if only of the honorary sort,” he said. “I like children. I enjoy them. If you and I were to conceive, I would love our child fiercely, but I’ve never imagined fatherhood for myself.”
It had been a long time since she’d dreamed of motherhood. Those hopes had been dashed years ago. “You’re not just saying that? By choosing a life with me, you are likely giving up any chance.”
“I love you, Cassandra. I choose you because, without you, I am certain there is no life for me.”
There would be no life for her either, without him.
Wade wanted to share his name with her, his title. Why should she refuse him when she wanted the same?
Cassandra sighed. She rested her shoulders in the warm cocoon of his strong arms. The smell of his shaving lotion mingled with salt air to form a most intoxicating cologne. It was the smell ofhome.
She couldn’t disguise the joy in her voice as she said, “Do you know this is the last proposal I shall ever receive?”
“Are you…glad?”
She laughed. “I am, for it seems I’ve saved the best for last.”
“Does that mean your answer is ‘yes’?”
“Only if you are the man who is asking.”
Wade pressed a kiss to her ear, saying, softly, “Marry me, Cassie. Make me your husband.”
Cassandra reached into his pocket to retrieve the ring. No gentleman had ever proposed to her with an actual, physical symbol of eternity, that unbreakable bond he hoped to share with her alone. This was not a proposition one undertook lightly.
The ring made it all so real. It fit her perfectly. It suited her, as though her left hand had somehow been incomplete without that golden band. She’d been beautiful before, but she felt…right…now.
She smiled. “Everyone will say you married me for my looks.”
He smiled, too. “They’ll be wrong.”
***
