“Until you”—he sought Ephie out, twenty pairs of eyes following his lead—“reminded me of the sanctity to be found in death, the salvation possible in remorse, that love can bloom even under the starkest conditions.”
She sifted in her seat, but her gaze didn’t waver, her lips parting as he continued to stare.
“I wish I could say, like your name, it all hit me like a thunderbolt out of the blue. Perhaps then we might not have wasted so much time doubting one another. But the changes have come over me slowly, though no less profound, making me see things I’d tried my best to bury in the shadows.”
As if in a trance, Ephie got to her feet, fingertips trailing over the desktop as she started toward him. He waited until she stood in front of him before reaching out to cup her face in his hands.
“You’ve reminded me, Epiphany Jones, of my own dreams. The ones I once had for my future. And the idea of facing it without you…Please, fireball”—he faltered, suddenly afraid the words capable of convincing her simply didn’t exist—“Please tell me I don’t have to.”
Her sweet smile clarified the tears tracking her cheeks. And beneath the familiar press of her hands, his heart swelled with relief.
“Oh, David,” Ephie whispered. “How I love you.”
Epilogue
EPHIE mentally apologized to the stairs as they groaned in protest at her hasty ascension. In the three weeks she’d been living with David, she’d come to think of the grand Victorian as a treasured member of the family, commiserating with the old girl’s many aches and pains—much to David’s endless bemusement.
A sigh of disappointment escaped her as she burst into the private quarters and found them empty. Where is he? Overhead, the distinct pop of the copper piping was followed by a gurgling rush of water.
“Thank you.”
As she headed toward the master bedroom she couldn’t help smiling, imagining David’s reaction when she told him the house had begun answering her questions.
Crossing from hardwood to carpet, she quietly kicked off her pumps by the side of the bed before heading toward the bathroom. Her hand trembled as she carefully pushed open the door. The thought of secretly watching him shower excited her. She caught sight of him in the mirror. Head bowed and arms lifted, he scrubbed at his hair. Shampoo bubbles cascaded down his back and the rise of his bottom. How she loved to grab onto those finely developed muscles as he pounded her into oblivion. Ephie closed her eyes, swaying as desire coursed through her.
Clunk! The door hit the vanity, jolting her out of her revere.
“Eph?” David turned around, eyes squeezed against the sting of the shampoo. “Is that you?”
“Yeah,” she squeaked. “It’s me.”
She heard the slide of the shower doors, grimacing as a rolling fog obscured David’s full monte.
“Eph?”
She peeped around the corner, trying not to look too guilty.
“Hi,” she offered shyly.
“Hi.”
His slicked-back hair and lopsided grin made it difficult for her not to offer to join him, but something about the way he angled around the partially opened shower door kept her in place.
“How was your day?”
“Busy. Two intakes and six consultations. I’m spent. Would you be all right with ordering out and calling it an early night?”
She forced a smile. “Of course.”
Ephie held her breath when David hesitated. But then he shrugged, sliding the door closed between them before turning toward the water. Letting out a sigh of relief, she backed out of the room. Feeling the bed behind her knees, she sank onto it, chiding herself for the apprehension prickling over her skin.
Was it really physical exhaustion or had he finally grown tired…of her? Eight weeks ago, they’d slept together for the first time. Could it be coincidence on the eve of the anniversary of what would be his longest relationship in over a decade, he would suddenly opt not to have sex with her? Logically, she knew she was being ridiculous. David couldn’t keep his hands off her. Just last night—at one of those shadowy restaurants in the North End with the seemingly mandatory red-and-white-checked, floor-length tablecloths—he’d managed to eat his carbonara with a single hand while keeping her on the edge of her seat with the other.
Ephie closed her eyes as she remembered how David had been on her as soon as the front door had clicked shut behind them. The frantic slide of his lips over hers. The urgent way he’d torn off her coat, shedding his own as they’d stumbled up the stairs, dropping it carelessly to the floor as if it didn’t matter. He’d stripped her at the landing, Ephie barely aware of his hands moving over her. And then she’d been beneath him, the wool of his dress pants chaffing her thighs, wood treads pressing at the nape of her neck and the small of her back, their moans of abandon echoing off the stately walls.
The vivid memory drew a moan from Ephie. She glanced guiltily toward the bathroom. In her current state, she wouldn’t be able to leave David alone. She had to take care of herself, and quickly. As she slipped her hand beneath the hem of her dress, the shower went silent. Leaning back on an elbow, she slid her fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, her eyes glued to the open doorway as she circled the greedy bundle of nerves demanding satisfaction.
She’d gotten most of the way there when he appeared in a cloud of billowing steam. Arms up, he worked at drying his hair as he made his way toward the vanity, muscles flexing and organs swaying. Ephie drank her fill, glad he’d been too pre-occupied to notice her as he’d wiped the mirror with the towel and then tossed it onto the counter beside him.
He ran his fingers over his jaw and then pushed them through his hair. He’d let it grow a little longer, an allowance for her habit of winding her fingers through it and giving a bracing wrench whenever the spirit moved her. More than simply becoming accustomed to his need for physically demanding sex, Ephie often acted the aggressor. David was content with sweet kisses and tender caresses long after she had progressed to nipping and clawing.
At the hum of the electric razor, she closed her eyes once more, her impending orgasm demanding her full attention. She curled her lips over her teeth, biting down to stifle the lusty groans threatening to give her away.
“Epiphany Jones!”
Her eyes flew open, and she saw David stalking toward her.
“Are you coming without me?”
Guilt froze her hands in place.
“You…” She gulped. “You said you were tired.”
He pressed his fists into the mattress on either side of her hips as he angled over her.
“I did, didn’t I?” His lips brushed over hers as he spoke. “Carry on.”
Hesitantly, she moved her fingers, David shifting to give her more room when her knuckles bumped against him. He dipped his head, outlining her neck and collarbone in soft, tickling kisses. She sighed and closed her eyes as he reached around her, unzipping her dress and easing the black crepe off her shoulders and down her arms. Her bra straps followed, one bared nipple drawn into his mouth, the other caught in the play of his fingers. Squirming, Ephie found her concentration torn between his touch and her own.
“Oh, David. Oh!”
He lifted his head, claiming her mouth in a soulful kiss which robbed her of breath, as well as her orgasm.
“David,” she accused when he let her up for air.
“Your punishment,” he explained. “For trying to do my job.”
“You said…” she gasped. “You said I should keep going.”
“You’re right. I did. My bad.” He gave her a wicked smirk before nuzzling her neck and whispering in her ear, “Now, fireball. Come for me now.”
A part of her wanted to defy him, but it was swept away by the flood of her release. As she shuddered with pleasure, David slid off her panties, kissing her ankles and knees on his way back to settling between her thighs. She shielded herself with her hands, but he grabbed her wrists, her hip
s jolting off the mattress as he eased his tongue over her.
“No, please, David.” She looked down her body, finding his eyes with hers. “I need you…inside me.”
The bold request won her a brilliant smile, the kind which made her weak in the knees, even when she was flat on her back. He loved it when she told him what she wanted, even if it was just good old-fashioned, missionary sex. Although with David, the words “good” and “old-fashioned” never seemed to fit. Her Prince of Darkness made even the most common act carnal. And the muscles in her stomach clenched in anticipation as he crawled over her, her thighs easing open at the press of his hips. She’d been on the pill for over a month, but the feel of him sliding inside her, unobstructed, remained a singular thrill.
“Oh, yes.”
She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling herself up to meet him as he bowed over her. In a one-armed embrace, he lifted her, propelling them forward toward the middle of the bed. He slid his hand down her back, angling her hips toward him as he eased her into the mattress. And then David began to move. A slow, sensual rhythm she hadn’t the power or will to resist.
“With me,” she insisted, already panting.
“Your wish is my command.”
He covered her mouth with his, his tongue echoing the push and roll of their lower halves. Sensation bombarded her from all quarters, quickly filling her to bursting. But she wasn’t ready. She wanted to stay as long as she could in the place where the lines where she ended and David began ceased to exist. Searching inside herself, she found a bit of calm down low in her belly, a mirror-smooth pond at the center of the tempest. She focused on it, letting it spread over her, through her. She felt an opening, like the unclenching of a fist. Every brush of his lips, slip of his tongue, and glide of his hips excruciatingly distinct, yet she was beyond it all, out of reach.
“Fireball,” David murmured, the word a tacit question.
Ephie looked at him in wonder. Was this what it was like for him? Did he feel this delicious power every time he kept her tipping at the edge? Was it the reason for his smug satisfaction whenever she came at his command? Skimming her fingers up over his back, she took his face in her hands.
“Not just yet.”
His groan reverberated through her, his usually measured movements faltering. He recovered quickly, but a fine sweat broke out over his body and effort etched his expression. Mesmerized by the signs of his struggle, Ephie stole as many moments as she dared, not wanting to abuse her newfound ability.
“Now, David.” His gaze snapped to hers. “Come for me now.”
His eyes skidded beneath their lids as he exploded inside her, muscles convulsing. She tumbled after him, her head forced back into the mattress, limbs shaking at the intensity.
David collapsed over her, gasping.
“What in hell, fireball?”
She laughed.
“I wanted it to go on forever.”
He rolled onto his side, taking her with him. Draping an arm over her waist, he cushioned his head in the bend of the other.
“In that case, thank you for taking pity on me.”
“You did say you were tired.”
“I did. Didn’t I?”
He cupped her cheek, considering her as if sensing something was amiss. But a yawn interrupted the investigation. Stifling it with the back of his hand, he angled away from her, closing his eyes as he lay prone beside her.
Propped on her elbow, Ephie looked down at him. He appeared to be a picture of contentment. But still, doubt nagged at her. She had to ask, no matter how ridiculous her insecurities might seem.
“David?”
“Mmm?”
“Do you remember what today is?”
“March twelfth?”
She gave him a playful shove, and he turned heavy-lidded eyes toward her.
“We started sleeping together eight weeks ago, today.”
“That’s kind of an odd anniversary to mark, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know.” She bit down hard on her wavering bottom lip. “It’s sort of a milestone. As of tomorrow, ours will officially be your longest relationship to date.”
He turned to her, placing his fingers beneath her chin and tipping her head up so she faced him.
“To date?” He sighed. “Really? What do I have to do?” He threaded his fingers through her hair, his palm warm against the side of her face. “As far as I’m concerned, this is my last relationship.”
“I know. Honestly, I do. It’s just…I guess it’s hard for me to believe. I mean, you’ve changed so much for me in such a short time.”
“Not for you, Epiphany, because of you. Because you love me.” He kissed her. “Because I love you.”
Looking into his earnest brown eyes, she wanted so badly to believe him without reservation. But a part of her refused, stubbornly doubting she would ever be enough.
“All right, then.” He shook his head, as if he’d heard her thoughts. “I guess it’s time.”
For what? She wondered as he rolled onto his side and reached to open the top drawer of the bedside table. When he turned back to her, she saw a small, black box cradled in his fingers.
“Wait. What are you doing?”
“As usual whenever you’re involved, not what I’d planned.”
He grinned at her, the quiet snap of two tiny hinges drawing her eyes to the space between them. The opened lid revealed a square cut diamond set in a simple silver band. She lifted her gaze to David’s.
“Marry me.”
“You’re joking.”
“Does it look like a joke?”
“But how…when?”
“During that hellish week you left me alone to my thoughts. It was going to be my backup plan if my final assignment for Stranger than Fiction didn’t sway you.” He grinned. “But since it did, I decided to give you some time to get used to the idea of the new me.”
“The new you?”
“Yes.” He curved his fingers over her hip and pulled her tight. “Same arrogant ass, of course. Just one who happens to desperately want to marry you.”
“But marriage, David? I mean, you do realize that’s a serious long-term commitment.”
He nodded, looking thoughtful.
“A little longer than forever should do it.”
“Do you have any idea the strings involved in forever?”
He linked his legs with hers. “The more the better.”
“And the drama…” Not taking her eyes off him, she plucked the ring from its black velvet perch and then slid it on her finger. “You do know there will be endless drama.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Her doubts were dispelled by the radiance of David’s smile. He tossed the box over his shoulder and then reached out and cupped her cheek.
“Did you say there would be drama?”
“Endless, actually.”
“Oh, fireball”—he brushed his lips over hers—“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The End
Publisher’s Note
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About DawnMarie Richards
DawnMarie Richards’ grandmother introduced her to the romance novel, providing an endless, ever-changing supply of dog-eared Harlequins from a stash kept in a paper grocery bag. As a romance author, DawnMarie writes what she most enjoys reading—passionate love stories spiked with sensual heat in all the right places. She delights in doing that very thing from her home in southern Arizona, which she shares with her husband and their crazy dog, Rand. Want more? Visit www.dawnmarierichards.com.
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Other Titles by DawnMarie Richards
Legacies Series
Aaron’s Will
Gildi
ng Lillian
The Studio Trilogy (Coming in December)
A Matter of Discipline
David's Epiphany Page 15