“Nothing would make me happier,” she told him softly. “I will be your wife.”
“Thank Christ,” he muttered, and then his lips were on hers.
The kiss was hot and dark and passionate, a possession. She rolled onto her side as well, pressing her body to his. The thick ridge of his manhood prodded her belly. She knew precisely what it was thanks toThe Tale of Love. And because she had felt it before. Their tongues met as a frenzied rush of need swept over her. An ache only he could answer.
There was one more thing she wanted to say, however.
With great reluctance, she broke the kiss, tipping her head back to meet his gaze through the shadows. “There is something I need to tell you, Ash.”
“Whatever it is, tell me quickly so I can commence ravishing you,” he said, his voice thick.
She had to stave off a soaring tide of desire. Because these words were important. They were necessary. She wanted to get this right. But in the end, she simply blurted it out.
“I love you.”
There. She had spoken them, and they seemed to echo in the night. He stilled, his hands on her tightening wherever they held her.
“Do you mean it?” he asked, sounding uncertain.
It was the last reaction she expected from a man like him, and it pushed her over the edge. Made her more certain, even, than she had been before, of him, of herself, of their love. Of what a future with him could be like. Would be like, if she but gave it and Ash the chance.
“Of course I do,” she told him. “I love you, Ash. I love every gloriously improper part of you.”
“But my past, Pru,” he protested, “I cannot change it. I cannot alter who I once was.”
“I know that.” She paused, searching for the right words, the way to allay his fears. “I do not want you to change. I want you exactly as you are, who you are. Because you are the man I fell in love with. The wicked rake, the protective brother, the teasing scoundrel, the man who chased me through sleet and snow and carried me in his arms to take me to where I would be dry and warm, the man who kisses me so sweetly…”
“I want to kiss you again now,” he warned her, his hands on her waist, drawing her even nearer. His nose brushed hers. “I cannot wait another bloody second.”
“Then don’t,” she said.
