“You taught me there is no vanquishing in love, only surrender,” he uttered into the intimate space between their mouths. “And I surrender to you, my sweet Bea—body, soul, mind, and heart.”
He angled down and, at last, pressed his mouth to hers in a slow, languorous kiss that was in no rush. This kiss had all the time in the world—and he intended to use it.
He scooped her into his arms, and she muttered against his neck, “Are you taking me to Paris with you?”
“Aye,” he said, his feet already on the move. “But first, I’m taking you to bed.”
He’d always neededmore—and perhaps that wouldn’t change.
But with the woman in his arms, he had not simply more, buteverything.
EPILOGUE
FRANCE, A WEEK LATER
From her perch beneath the expansive bower of a weeping beech tree, Beatrix sat with a pencil lolling in her hand and a journal in her lap and took in the view before her—Dev beyond earshot, explaining the workings of a steam engine to his client…the bright countryside outside the shade of the canopy…the lazy drift of clouds across a blue Norman sky…
She resisted the impulse to pinch herself.
For the hundredth time this week.
She would’ve been black and blue by now, for—impossibly—this was her life.
Though she’d long wanted to visit France, she hadn’t been prepared for its beauty. Normandy held the specific coolness of the countryside in summer—a soft, slow quality that invited one to relax and enjoy. Further, it was less tamed than England, but then France was still picking itself up after events a little too recently experienced to have faded into the annals of history just yet.
She and Dev had gone to Paris first. But the warnings had proven correct. It was miserably hot in the city. So, they’dfollowed the shipment of engines to their next destination in Normandy.
Actually, their journey hadn’t been quite that linear.
There had been a stop between Dover and Paris—St. Peter’s Port on the Isle of Guernsey. Their time on the island had been all of three hours, but when they’d set sail again, they’d done so as husband and wife.
She held the ruby and gold ring up to the sun, the light imbuing the gem with a warm crimson glow. Dev had kept it on his person at all times during those two weeks they’d been apart.
“For when you came to your senses,” he’d said.
Oh, arrogant man.
She twirled the ring. Though she’d been married for all of a week, it was already a habit of hers.
What a whirlwind… But that was life with Dev. He knew his own mind, and one couldn’t help getting caught up in its controlled, fearless whir, secure in the knowledge that one would land safely on two feet.
She contemplated the blank page below her pencil. She’d been writing this last week, too—jotting little notes and observations. Dev was encouraging it. “You see the main thrust of a point and have a way of conveying it with words. And when you’re good at something and enjoy doing it, that’s the thing you should be doing.”
The subject matter for her writing had shifted, however. Now that she didn’t have to write to put bread on the table, she could write about anything and everything that interested her—the trilling music of birdsong high in the trees…the sweet deliciousness of a rather transcendent apple and caramel crêpe…the verdant hills that rolled and rolled out from where she presently sat.
In a way, it felt too free, this mode of writing. Lacking in structure…aimless. The fact was while she hadn’t enjoyedwriting gossip, she did enjoy writing about people. Though they didn’t necessarily know it minute to minute, people always had an aim. She might try her hand at writing about people of the fictional variety.
But in this moment, her pencil remained silent, as it was wont to be when her gaze found itself lingering on her husband—as it was wont to do.
His forearms.
Lightly dusted with black hair and tan from hours beneath the sun, Dev’s forearms held the power to transfix her when his sleeves were rolled up just so.
At this moment, his focus was on his work, which was assisting a client with setting up his steam engine correctly to get the most efficient functionality from it. Her husband was exceedingly focused on functionality and efficiency and the increasing importance of miniaturization and portability in regard to engines of all sorts, both present and future. He could really go on at length about it.
She found it both interesting and utterly, incredibly attractive.
This man she loved…
