“I’m willing to risk it.”
He leaned forward, and she met him, the feel of his lips and the scent of him reeling her in to a place she hadn’t even known she thought of as home. Her shoulders relaxed for the first timein weeks, and the rightness of it—of him, of the train, of the applause—felt the same as the hum of the wheels as they picked up speed.
Because there was a future there. A place they both belonged.
*
LEO DID NOTremember the transfer from Basel to Zurich. Nor did he remember much of the long carriage ride from Zurich to Zermatt. They had to ride donkeys to get through the climb up to Zermatt, which was bumpy and uncomfortable, but all Leo could think of was getting Prudence to a room and making love to her. Showing her with his body all the ways that he loved her, cherished her, wanted her.
“They won’t allow us to share a room, Leo. It isn’t proper.” Prudence had giggled as she’d whispered it, when their two donkeys narrowed the gap between them.
“Then marry me. Now. Tomorrow. As soon as possible. I don’t care. Prudence, I love you. I will do anything to be with you.”
Apparently, their conversation was nowhere near as quiet as they’d supposed. The cold mountain air and the snow let their voices travel.
“The town of Zermatt is mostly Roman Catholic,” Joanna said, conversationally. “If you were to marry in a Catholic church, the Anglican church would still require yet another marriage license for England.”
Leo frowned for a second, but then took her meaning. He wished he could take Prudence’s hand. Give her a proper proposal. “Would you mind becoming Mrs. Moon earlier, without the fanfare?”
“Is not the room name already under Mrs. Cabot?” Prudence asked, teasing.
“If you want me to become Mr. Cabot, I absolutely will.” He didn’t mind changing his name. It wouldn’t be the first time. Prudence giggled again, and Leo was finding the sound to be more and more erotic as the trip wore on. But then, everything about her was. Dear God, he wanted to lick up the expanse of her neck, from the high collar of her traveling cloak to her chin.
“I appreciate it, but I think I would rather become Mrs. Moon. Another connection to your very formidable mother.” A serious expression darkened her face. “And I’ve already been married to Mr. Cabot. It wasn’t bad, but I think it’s time for a new chapter.”
“Mrs. Moon it is,” Leo pronounced. “And I notice you haven’t said yes to marrying me.”
“Very perceptive.” Her lips glistened, and he was nearly felled when she bit her lip. “Let me think on it. I’ve been married before, you know.”
“I’m well aware.” Leo kissed her cheek, given the surrounding company of the crowded carriage. “But I will wait for you Prudence. For however long you require.”
She put her hand to his cheek, and even through her glove, her touch lit a fire inside of him. “And I promise I won’t make you wait a moment longer than you must.”
*
THE INN WASa blur of luggage and blonde wooden boards lacquered and freshly built. It had taken ages to finally get the key, exchanging impatient pleasantries as Leo held her hand.
His anxiety to be alone matched hers. Finally, finally! The door to their perfunctory room with its large, unadorned bed, and simple white feather duvet, closed. Leo had tipped the broad-shouldered attendant who carried up their trunks, and it was he who closed the heavy wooden door.
“We’re here,” Prudence said. He was rumpled from the train and subsequent donkey ride. She had no idea how she looked—probably not dazzling. But the way he looked at her made her feel that perhaps she was.
“Here as in Zermatt, or here as in a private room together?” Leo asked, taking slow steps towards her.
All of it felt right to her. The Matterhorn loomed at the end of the valley, distant but yet so close. So forbidding, but yet familiar. They’d talked of it, planned routes up it, scoured maps of it for the past year.
Leo felt the same—exciting and new, but also familiar and beloved. She felt the magnetism of him, the nearness of him as he approached slowly. She wet her lips and watched his eyes dart to them.
“Both,” she said. There was a flash in her mind of how she must smell of donkey, about feeling dirty from a long day’s worth of travel. But she didn’t care if Leo smelled of donkey and wool soaked in old sweat. It didn’t matter. She loved him clean, and she loved him full of the hardships of the road.
“May I?” Leo asked, taking her hand, finally close enough to gently pull her to him.
Her breasts pressed flush against his hard chest, she swallowed. “Please do.”
Slowly, too slowly, an ache flowing through her, he lowered his face to hers. Pressing his lips against hers, gentle, not presumptuous in the least. But Prudence was. She was presumptuous and needy and feeling not at all slow or gentle. She deepened their kiss, licking at the seam of his lips to make them open and admit her tongue. A low groan emitted from his chest that she felt ripple through her.
“Leo, I know that this fast but—” Prudence gasped between kisses. He tasted like everything she knew and wanted.
“Fast is fine,” he said, ripping off his coat.
