By Desire Bound
Page 30
It was a moment to weigh the risks. She would either come away with what she wanted; or take home a different pot.
She almost thought it was worth it and that her ploy to keep him dangling was working.
"What's in it for me?"
His expression set. "Me."
"That's tempting, Con."
"I rather thought it was."
Arrogant beast. "But of course the Earl . . ."
"You've been noticing the Earl, have you?"
"Well, really Con—I'm free to notice whomever I want. We're not in the middle of the desert, you know."
This was getting ridiculous. "Darcie, come kiss me."
"I can't do that either, Con. You know where that will lead."
He was tired of this game. And it was a game. He liked their other games better. And he wanted her. He swept her into his arms and crushed her mouth under his.
"Darcie, dammit . . ."
"Very romantic," she whispered against his lips. Oh, how she'd missed his lips. "More."
That was better. That was Darcie.
Kisses and diamonds . . .
Proper dresses—proper hair ... he pulled at them as he kissed her—Darcie in diamonds, Darcie bare . . .
Darcie's hands slipping in and cupping him between his legs.
The feel of her fingers, explosive there.
"Hurry." Darcie's voice, breathless with need.
"God, Darcie—all this stuff."
"I know." Her voice was tremulous. "I hate it."
"Don't wear it." He had off her shift, her corset, her camisole. "Always be naked for me."
Her eyes closed and her knees went weak. "Always be hard for me."
"Am I not? I've been hard for weeks waiting for you to finish playing merry widow. God, Darcie . . ."
They sank to the floor naked.
"Oh, Con—let me see you." She grasped him tightly, and all her intentions went out the window. Whether she would be a brother's widow or his whore, she wanted him. She needed him. And she wasn't too proud to beg.
"Take me."
She kissed him there, on the tip, the head, up and down the shaft. Kneeling to him, worshipping him, never enough of him—there.
"Darcie—" he murmured, pushing her to the floor almost too late.
He opened his hand, and diamond dust swirled all around her, all over her body, glittering like paint.
"Let me adore you."
His hands all over her then, all over, and she felt him press something against her skin.
She lifted her head to look, and she saw he had set a diamond in her navel.
"Con . . . !"
"We cut the diamond, Darcie. We made a dozen stones. Two of them will be set among the Crown jewels for the protection of the King. And we will present them in court, you and I, at the end of the month."
Balance. It was all about balance.
And there was only one more thing he had to do for balance to be restored.
He spread his hand over her belly. "Isn't there something biblical about a man cleaving to his brother's widowed wife?"
"Is there?" she asked barely above a whisper.
"And that it's a blessing if he marries her?" He .touched the stone in her navel. "This is a fragment I cut and shaped for you. Let it be your engagement stone."
She caught her breath. "Yes."
"You'll marry me."
"Yes. But only because it's a blessing."
"No waiting."
"I promise."
"No rules."
She smiled. "Only if you make them."
"Forever?"
"More," she promised, she asked.
He kissed her deeply, in token of his promise, and
then he lifted the stone to the light and rainbows shot out, striping her bare body in liquid color.
"And in honor of our love," he murmured, setting it again reverently in the hollow of her navel, "this diamond shall be known forever more as the Eye of Heaven."
Darcie levered herself up on one arm and touched it. She felt a trembling deep inside her, a quickening just beneath the stone, and she looked at him with wondrous eyes.
He held her gaze as he shifted his weight so that he was over her, and poised for the moment of possession. "This is the judgment of the stone," he whispered. "You are my chosen one, Darcie. You are my heaven," and with a triumphant thrust, he brought them both home.