He cradled her and stroked her hair. “Shh, don’t cry. Don’t cry, darling. What is it? Please don’t be unhappy. Is it because you don’t love me?”
Her head came up and she sniffed. “No. Of course I love you. How could you think otherwise?”
He brushed a thumb over one wet cheek. “Then why the tears?”
“Because I’m happy…Really,” she added at his bemused look. “You truly love me?
“Yes.”
“And you really want to marry me? You’re not doing it because you’ve compromised me?”
“No. Though I must confess that I have definite plans to compromise you again, as soon as we can manage.”
“And you’re not proposing because it’s the right thing to do?”
His lips turned upward in a warm smile. “No. And although marrying you is the right thing to do, I’m not doing it out of any sense of duty, but rather because I know we’re perfectly suited to each other. I can’t imagine another woman of my acquaintance willing to put up with my tempers and moods.”
She raised a hand to his cheek. “I love you, even your tempers and moods. So yes, yes, I will marry you.”
On a laugh, he slid the ring onto her finger. Then before she had time to do more than glance at it, he tugged her tight against him and crushed her lips to his. Delight flooded her senses, sending her soaring as high and light as a cloud.
Kissing him back, she let him sweep her into a pleasure so intense it made the world fade away, leaving behind only the joy and glory of his embrace. Sliding her arms around his shoulders, she held on and let herself get lost. His touch was such bliss, even the earth began to shake beneath her feet.
A long minute passed before she realized that the effect wasn’t solely from the force of their desire, but rather that the road actually was shaking. Male catcalls rang out as a coach thundered into view, hoots and a few ribald comments from the male occupants setting her cheeks afire.
“Give her a good hard tumble, and don’t stint on the tongue!”
“Show her what you’ve got in them breeches of yours!”
The coach raced on past, the men continuing to cheer and tease until the vehicle moved out of sight.
“Well,” Cade observed. “They make some interesting suggestions. What do you say we go home and follow up on their advice?”
Meg blushed harder and laughed. “I think, my lord, that sounds like a very fine idea.”
CHAPTER 25
One month later Meg leafed through the fabric samples spread across the polished surface of the satinwood table in the family drawing room. Selecting two, she turned to Cade. “Which do you like better? The cream or the willow green?”
Seated in a nearby armchair, he raised his head from his book and peered over the top of his spectacles at the swatches she was holding up. “What is this for?”
“The ribbons on the epergnes. I want them to complement the arrangements without conflicting with the flowers.”
“I should imagine either would do nicely. Which one do you prefer?”
A tiny frown settled between her pale brows. “The cream, I think.”
“The cream it is, then.”
“Or the green,” she said, vacillating on the subject again. “I am just not sure.” Laying down the samples, she picked up a quill and tapped the feathered end against her chin. “And what do you think about the wedding breakfast? Should we serve sliced oranges in champagne or a fresh cherry cordial?”
“You love cherries and they will be in season then, so the cherries, I believe.”
“Yes, but I know you are very partial to oranges, as are many of the guests, so perhaps the cherries would be a bad idea.”
Marking the page in his book, he set the volume aside, then removed his spectacles and laid them on top. “Meg, come here.”
Her brows rose. “Why?” she said with clear suspicion.
He suppressed a smile. “Never mind why. Just come.”
Laying down her quill, she crossed the room. As soon as she moved within range, he caught her hand and tugged her down onto his lap, careful to settle her on his good leg. She let out a laugh as he bounced her once and tumbled her forward for a kiss.
Her breathing was far from steady by the time he let her come up for air. “What was that for?” she murmured, a dreamy expression in her soft blue eyes.
“I thought you could do with a distraction from all this wedding planning. It’s making you tense. I want you to relax and have fun.”
“I am having fun,” she defended. “Well, most of the time. I just want everything to be perfect.”
“It doesn’t need to be perfect. It only needs to be what you want. If it were up to me, I would have had you in front of a vicar four weeks ago, and we could even now be lying in our honeymoon bed. But you wanted a big church wedding, so that is what you’re going to get. St. George’s is confirmed for two weeks from Saturday, and all the invitations have been sent—you have the ink-stained fingers to prove it,” he added, holding up one of her smudged hands. Kissing her palm, he folded it inside his own.
“A girl only gets married once,” she said. “And I didn’t have the heart to disappoint your sisters and your mother. Esme is so excited about being a flower girl, she mentions it now every time I see her. Mallory is thrilled to be my maid of honour. And as for Ava, she actually tears up every now and then over the fact that she’s getting to be both the mother of the groom and of the bride.”
She paused. “I was deeply touched that she wants to act in my own mother’s stead, and she’s been truly wonderful, especially considering the short amount of time we have to put everything together.”
“Six weeks may be a rush for you, but it’s an agony for me,” Cade said. “Particularly since I idiotically agreed to stop visiting your room until after the wedding.”
She stroked a hand over his chest. “I don’t like it any better than you, but since I am not enceinte, it seems the wise thing to do. I don’t want our first baby plagued by comments about being conceived too early for a full-term birth.”
“Well, be forewarned, my dear, that as soon as that marriage register is signed, it will be my goal to get you with child. I’ll be at you morning, noon, and night. Although I hope you don’t conceive too soon. I rather fancy the notion of having you all to myself for a while.”
Her skin warmed at his comment and she smiled. “I shall look forward to it, especially this winter. I miss having all that lovely heat in my bed at night. You’re much nicer than a blanket, you know.”
He growled under his breath and gave her another bounce on his knee. “If you aren’t careful, I’ll break my promise.”
“If you keep testing me, I just might let you.”
He met her gaze for a long moment, her eyes lambent with a barely restrained desire that mirrored his own. With a sigh, she moved back slightly on his lap. Reluctantly, he allowed her to do so.
He cleared his throat. “Now, as to the original topic of the wedding.”
“Yes?”
“From here on, I want you to relax and not worry about the details.”
“But—”
“No buts. Choose what you like best, no matter what anyone else may have to say on the matter. If you want tobacco brown ribbons on the epergnes, and liverwurst pudding for breakfast, then that is what we shall have.”
She made a face. “No one would want tobacco brown ribbons and liverwurst pudding. Ugh!”
“That is not the point. What matters is that this is your special day and I want you to have everything you want. There is no right or wrong. Only what suits you best. You are the bride, remember? You do what you wish.”
“But this is your day, too. I want you to be happy as well.”
“I am happy. Happier than I can ever remember being, and I know things are only going to get better after we are wed. Don’t you realize by now, sweetheart, that every day with you is my special day?”
A beatific smile spread over her lips. “Oh, Ca
de. I’m the luckiest woman in the world to have you. I love you so much.”
“I love you more. Now, come closer so we can put each other’s resolve to the test again.”
An effervescent laugh drifted past her lips. He waited for her to snuggle up against him and press her mouth to his. Kissing her back with a deep claiming, he took them both where he knew they most longed to go, pleasure burgeoning in his veins and love in his heart. A love he now knew she returned without conditions or restraint.
Abruptly, he heard a pair of hands give an intrusive clap.
“All right. Enough of that, you two! You’ll have plenty of time for such foolery once you are married,” his mother declared as she strode into the room. “Now, be a good boy and let Margaret go.”
Meg started to slide off his lap, but he held her firm. “Ordinarily, I would, Mama. But you see, that’s impossible now.”
“Oh, and why is that?”
“Because Meg is mine, and I’ve decided I’m never, ever letting her go again.”
About The Author
TRACY ANNE WARREN grew up in a small central Ohio town. After working for a number of years in finance, she quit her day job to pursue her first love–writing romance novels. Warren lives in Maryland with a pair of exuberant, young Siamese cats and windows full of gorgeous orchids and African violets. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, watching movies, and dreaming up the characters for her next book. Visit her website at www.tracyannewarren.com.
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By Tracy Anne Warren
TEMPTED BY HIS KISS
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SEDUCED BY HIS TOUCH
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
TEMPTED BY HIS KISS. Copyright © 2009 by Tracy Anne Warren. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Microsoft Reader January 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-177343-3
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