Oh, and that they should visit her, David Berab, and Solomon Weiss at Lira & Berab for all their surety needs. Because there was no better gift than the gift of peace of mind. The statement had been met with appreciative laughter as well as properly raucous applause for the betrothal announcement.
And best, Aaron was inundated with well-wishers and congratulations and much-deserved attention afterward. By the time everyone had left an hour later and the staff was cleaning, he was weary but still beaming with such clear pleasure that her heart near burst.
However, she’d not been able to steal him away like she craved, as they were both quickly whisked off for secondary baths—mud and all—and placed into separate bedchambers with warm milk.
Except she had no desire to sleep. Even if her complexion would be a mess. She’d not wait another day if she didn’t have to.
Besides, the Berabs had already procured a ketubah her grandmother deemed fair. With their connections, procuring the other documents and making the arrangements for the small ceremony was now her grandmother’s job. Isabelle was just going to show up in a pretty gown. Perhaps the silver.
The image of Aaron’s appreciative face the first time she wore it soared in her mind.
Definitely the silver. Which meant she had plenty of time to do what she wanted. Rising and not bothering with a shawl, Isabelle strolled down the hall and knocked on the door of the guest room Aaron had been given.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, yawning in the doorframe. Her heart skipped. His shirt was off and his feet were bare and his hair a disaster, and he’d never been more handsome.
“I came to check on you. Make sure your injuries were healing,” she told him, moving into the room and sitting down on the unmade bed.
“My injuries are bumps and bruises.” He patted his chest before gazing at her and folding his arms. “You’re not wearing any clothes,” he accused, though his eyes twinkled, sparking every desire and ounce of mischief in her.
Any residual touch of tiredness was definitely gone.
“Chemise.” Smoothing her sleeves, she rocked up on her knees and crawled to the foot of the bed. “Do you want me to wear more clothes?” she asked, deliberately running her tongue over her lower lip.
He rolled his eyes at her. “No. Well, not in the abstract. But . . .” He indicated the now closed and hopefully locked door. “If your grandmother and Pena—”
“They won’t.” She gave him a grin. “They will sleep well tonight. Like everyone else in the house.” Sitting up, she patted the section of the bed next to her.
Shaking his head, Aaron obliged and climbed up next to her before pulling her onto his lap.
“You and your cook really need to stop. Someone’s going to get hurt,” he said as he allowed her to push him onto his back so she could straddle him.
“Soon.” She gasped a little as he lifted the skirts of her chemise. “Once we’re married and you won’t be scolded if I’m found here.” She moaned as he stroked her thighs.
Mercy. Though two could play at that game. She bent forward and planted a soft kiss on his chest. And another. And another.
Aaron groaned. “Won’t you be scolded too?”
“Possibly.” She ran the tips of her fingers down the same area. “It’ll depend on how effective my powers of misdirection are.” She flipped her night braid over her shoulder. “Though either way, you’ll feel guilty, while I’m too tough and shameless for guilt.”
“So that display earlier?” He reached up and stroked her cheek. “The tears over you not telling me you loved me right away . . . ?” He cocked his head.
“An aberration. At least if you tell anyone about it,” she teased. “I don’t want to let my reputation slip.” She gasped once more as he sneaked a hand beneath her skirts again. She shifted, allowing him to move higher like she craved.
“Perish the thought,” he murmured. “So why are you here?”
“Why do you think?” She moaned the words as he moved his rather clever fingers to stroke exactly the spot she wanted. She rocked her hips forward, begging him for more.
“We’re getting married the day after tomorrow,” he protested. “Can’t you wait?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I love you too much. And lust for you.”
“You’re incorrigible and very hard to say no to—do you know that?” he told her as he shifted her forward so he could thankfully kick off the rest of his garments.
“You love it,” she said, settling back on his lap after he was finally gloriously naked and all hers.
“Yes, I do,” he whispered. “Very much.” He pulled her down to him, taking her lips, and very soon, she could barely remember her own name, let alone what time it was.
Yes, if this was what forever could be, it was a risk worth taking.
