by Cara Elliott
Because we are made for each other.
The fringe of her dark lashes hid her eyes, but a spark of light peeked through as they fluttered. “We all need second chances. It’s so awfully hard to get it right the first time around.”
Caro touched her fingertips to his cheek. “So that is why we must keep trying, no matter if we feel bruised from the bumbles and stumbles.”
He traced a whispery laugh around the shell-shaped curve of her ear, thinking of how her exuberant spirit made him want to shout to the heavens with joy.
“It’s you who have taught me that elemental truth. And so I will try a second time. And a third, and a fourth, and ad infinitum—until you relent and agree to marry me.” He inhaled, filling his lungs with her beguiling scent. “God knows, I have a legion of faults, which—”
“Which makes us perfectly matched.”
Hope flared in his breast.
“Well, almost perfectly matched,” she added with a shy smile. “I have two legions of faults, but I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”
“All I see is the lady with whom I wish to spend the rest of my life.”
“A lifetime with you?” Caro kissed the tip of his chin. “That sounds like it might be almost long enough.”
“Only if we don’t waste a moment more.” He shifted, feeling her spark penetrate to the very depth of his being. Never again would he dwell in cold and darkness. “Say yes, Caro.”
“Yes.” She said it so sweetly, so simply.
Yes.
He hardly dared to believe his ears. “Thank goodness. Otherwise I might have had to resort to extreme measures.”
She shifted beneath him. “I like your extremities.”
Their laughter was muffled by a long and lush kiss.
“Don’t tempt me,” Alec murmured, lifting his lips from hers just enough to speak.
“I can’t help it.” Caro arched her body and rubbed against him. “I seem to stir up trouble wherever I go.”
“Trouble, trouble, trouble,” he rasped, sliding his hands down her hips to her thighs and easing them apart.
She gave a little gasp of pleasure as his rigid phallus delved between her legs, just at the crest of their joining.
Her honeyed warmth was like fire against his flesh. Exquisitely unbearable. Surely in the next instant he would burst into flames.
“At some point,” he said tightly, “we really ought to be making love on a soft featherbed with silk-smooth sheets and down pillows.”
“That would be nice,” she whispered. A twinkle of the firelight reflected in her eye. “But not nearly so adventurous.”
“Loving you will always be adventurous.”
Because you challenge me. You excite me. You dare me to be more than I think I can be.
Caro held him close, letting her hands explore up and down the contours of his back. “In a good way, I hope.”
“The very best way.”
He rolled, turning so she was atop him. The red-gold light bathing her naked limbs in a rosy glow. Swaying in and out of the smoky shadows, she moved in time to some primitive tempo, her dark hair tumbling in silky waves over her shoulders.
An earthy, erotic vision of beauty.
“I love you.” The words had once seemed impossible to say—now Alec couldn’t seem to repeat them enough.
Caro’s sweetly sensuous smile was far more luminous than the dancing flames. “And I you.”
A fierce longing seized him. Need. Want. Desire. And yet, the realization that this was not a last desperate grasp for a fleeting moment of happiness left him a little giddy, as if he had drunk too much champagne.
He reached up, skimming his palms slowly, tenderly over the length and breadth of her creamy skin, committing to memory every dip and curve of her lithe body. The rounded shape of her bottom, the inward sweep of her waist, the swell of her breasts, the perfect dusky pink points of their nips, hardening beneath his palms.
Ye gods, she was so achingly lovely.
Their eyes met and a sound rumbled in his throat—a laugh, a groan, a cry of exultation?
What did it matter? All that counted was Caro.
She leaned down, taking his mouth in a hot, hungry kiss. Her fingers stroked over his chest, twining through the coarse curls, tracing over muscles, dipping down over his ribs.
His blood was pulsing through his veins, and as their tongues twined, deepening their play, he was no longer thinking of going slowly. Grasping her slender waist, he broke off the embrace to raise her from his sweat-slickened belly. For an instant, a lick of cool air tickled between their fire-kissed bodies, then he thrust upward.
“Ye gods, ye gods.” A groan—definitely a groan—wrenched from deep within his chest as he sheathed himself to the hilt in her tingling warmth.
Heat surged through her. Gasping at the ebb and flow of new sensations, Caro watched the wildly flickering shadows of their silhouettes dance across the wind-carved stone.
The two of them, their passions joined. She wanted to make the moment last forever.
This fullness, this friction, making her so intimately aware of her body, and his. Suddenly aware she could set the rhythm of their lovemaking, she rocked back, slowly at first, then faster, faster.
Alec responded with a ragged growl. His body quivered, his hands roved eagerly over her thighs. Then he delved between her legs, his touch found her peak, just above their joining, and all at once her cries were thrumming against the surrounding stone. Waves of pleasure rose in her as he filled her again and again. She slid her fingers through his hair, twining with the salt-damp silky strands.
A primal joy clenched within her.
Alec.
She tightened her legs around his hips, riding him hard. His gaze swirled with smoke and lightning flashes of gold and sapphire. His face, so beautiful in the sputtering light, mirrored her own wondrous joy.
Rising to match her need, he quickened his strokes. The tension coiling within her was becoming unbearable.
“Caro.” He called her name, his voice ragged with need. Beneath her, his hips bucked, and as she arched back the fierce pounding of her heart overwhelmed the fury of the drumming rain.
Dark and light—shadows and flames spun together in a whirling dervish dance of desire. The fire sparked and crackled, and in the next instant she came undone.
The first pale rays of dawn crept into the cave, softening the deep shadows. A damp chill misted the early morning air, but as Caro came slowly awake, the first thing she felt was the steady pulse of Alec’s warmth resonating along the length of her body.
She shifted slightly, smiling at the new sensation of her limbs entangled with his.
“Hmm.” Alec stirred with a lazy yawn and propped himself up on one elbow. “Awake, are you?”
“Yes.” She snuggled closer. “But I’m thinking of falling back into a slumber. For a week, or maybe a month.”
“A pleasant idea,” he drawled. “Assuming our bed were made of something softer than stone.” He gave a mock groan. “I think I am getting too old for roughing it in the wild.” A kiss feathered against the nape of her neck. “Besides, the next time I make love to you, I promise it will be in more elegant surroundings.”
“I don’t care about the surroundings.” Turning, she pressed her palm to his chest. “I care only about you.”
Alec gave a grimace as he rubbed at his bristled jaw. “Even though I look like a wild Highland savage?”
“I thought the savage Scots painted their faces blue.” She leaned in closer and brushed her lips to his cheek. “And unless I am much mistaken, yours is a glorious shade of sun-kissed bronze.”
“I would demand a more detailed explanation of that hue from you,” he said. “However, if I don’t coax the fire to life, I fear my skin shall indeed turn a rather hideous shade of azure.”
Untangling from the blankets, Alex began adding sticks to the bed of coals. Naked, he was a breathtaking sight, his rippling muscles radiating an animal grace. Watc
hing him, she felt her breath quicken.
He caught her gaze and lifted a brow. “Have I sprouted horns, or broken out in purple spots?”
“Are you fishing for compliments?” Caro let her eyes slide down his chest and follow the wispy trail of golden hair leading lower and lower.
A breathtaking sight, indeed. He was a rampantly masculine man, all lithe muscle and sleek sinew.
“I would rather fish for breakfast,” replied Alec dryly. “But the nearest lake is some distance away, so we will have to content ourselves with a spot of tea until we return to the inn.” He fetched the rain-filled pot from outside the entrance. “I’m famished. What about you?”
“Actually, I’m quite content feasting my eyes on your magnificent body,” she answered.
His grin made her insides lurch. “I am trying to remind myself that I am a gentleman, not a wolf. It is exceedingly hard, for my beastly urges are to devour you, morsel by lovely morsel.”
Her skin began to tingle all over.
“But I shall restrain myself.” The wood began to blaze, the flames catching the clench of concern on his face. “You’ve been through a hellish ordeal. You need sustenance, a hot bath, warm clothes.”
“I—”
“No arguments.” He passed her a mug of steaming tea. “Drink this, then we will be off. The sooner I get you back to the inn, the better.”
“Are you always this tyrannical in the morning?” The hot liquid did, however, taste ambrosial. She took another long grateful gulp and exhaled a contented sigh.
He waggled a brow. “My tyranny seems to be going down rather smoothly.”
She passed him the cup to finish. “I daresay there are some rough edges, but we shall work on chipping them off later.” She smiled. “I seem to have lost my hammer and chisel.”
Alec’s eyes lit with laughter. “I’ve warned you that Scottish flint has a great many sharp edges. You may have your work cut out for you.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Brave girl.” Alec pulled her close and held her for a long moment. “How are you bearing up? It makes my blood run cold to think of you with that monster.”
“I am fine. Truly.” Caro expelled a rueful sigh. “I have been yearning for years to experience an Exceedingly Exciting Adventure. And now it seems I have finally gotten my wish.”
“And?”
“And…” For an instant, her breath caught in her throat as a glimmer of light played through the red-gold strands of his tangled hair. “I hope I shall have lots more. However, just like the heroine in Anna’s novels, I shall find it very nice to always have a swashbuckling storybook hero to rescue me if I stray into trouble.”
“I shall be happy to play my part,” replied Alec. “But for now, let us pen ‘the end’ to this adventure.” A smile curled at the corners of his mouth. “And tomorrow we will turn the page and start a new one.”
The End… The Beginning.
“I have a feeling that Life will be endlessly exciting,” she murmured. “Especially with you by my side.”
“Always,” he murmured. “Always.”
Forever and ever. It had a lovely ring to it.
Caro wrapped her arms around Alec and let out a fluttery sigh. “That’s worthy of an ode.”
He laughed. “I was rather thinking it was worthy of a kiss.”
She looked up and their eyes met. “That too,” she murmured as his lips touched hers. “For at the moment, I’m not thinking of fancy words or rhyming meter.”
A burst of fire-bright sparks lit in her heart.
“I’m just thinking of you.”
Alec framed her face between his palms and held her with his gaze for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was edged with humor, and yet a smoldering heat seemed to glitter beneath his lashes. A possessive look that said You. Are. Mine.
“I shall do my best to keep your attention.”
A thrilling little shiver slid down her spine. “Always,” she said. And knew it was true.
A short while later, with Caro wrapped in the blankets and settled safely in his arms, Alec guided the big bay down through the mist-shrouded hills and back to the inn.
The proprietor and his wife, desperate to avoid any trouble with the authorities, scurried to minister to their needs—a generous breakfast, steaming baths, a change of clothing while their own muddied garments were being laundered.
With Caro tucked away out of sight upstairs, Alec arranged to meet with the local magistrate. It took more than a little embroidering on the truth, but he managed to stitch together a story explaining the dead body on the moor and the miscreant held captive in the cellar. It was, thought Alec wryly, a tale worthy of a Sir Sharpe Quill novel, involving a stolen antiquity, quarreling thieves, his own fortuitous arrival at the out-of-the-way inn, where he had immediately recognized the suspects. In trying to apprehend them, a wild chase through the storm-lashed hills had ensued, which resulted in Thayer coming to his demise while trying to evade capture.
The magistrate had raised a skeptical eyebrow at several points during the long-winded narrative. But he had heard of the theft in Bath, and that combined with Alec’s rank had apparently convinced him to accept the story without further question.
And Dudley, when dragged up from the depths of the inn, had corroborated the account. Alec had met with him earlier and convinced him that confessing to theft would lead to a far lesser sentence than if he were charged with kidnapping a lady.
As for the part that Dudley had played in the traitorous betrayals…
Alec was quite certain that his fellow members of the Scottish independence movement would eventually mete out their own form of justice for the crime.
With that onerous task taken care of, he turned his attention to the most important task at hand. Calling for pen and paper, he retreated into a private parlor.
“This,” he murmured to himself, “will be the true test of my creative skills.”
Caro retied the sash of the oversized wrapper and edged in a little closer to peer over Alec’s shoulder. She blinked—and then let out a chortle.
“As you see, I can plot convolutedly complex intrigue as well as Anna,” he announced with a grin, after a last little flourish of his pen.
“I confess, I’m impressed.”
“With a bit of luck and a little fancy footwork, we should be able to keep the tattlemongers quiet,” he added.
Caro nodded. “So far, so good. Though from now on, things do turn a trifle complicated.”
“I’m sure my aunt and Isobel will hasten to do as I request.”
The letter he had just penned would be sent off with the next mail coach. By morning, the plan should begin to start falling in place. “Thank God that Aunt Adelaide was offered the use of Lady Webster’s country house for the coming fortnight. If she and my sister move quickly to take up residence by tomorrow, we can avoid scandal by going there directly. Once we’re all together, with every propriety in place, no one will think to parse over the exact timing, especially as the country interlude will be used to announce our engagement. Even the snippiest of the tabbies will have trouble stirring up gossip when there’s no real scandal to come from it.”
“Very clever,” conceded Caro.
“I have my moments.”
“More than a few.”
Alec slipped his arm around her waist. “It’s a very long journey back to the outskirts of Bath. I don’t dare speculate on exactly how many moments that comes to. But I am sure it is quite a lot.”
Caro took up the pen and teased the feathered tip against his chin. “Plenty of time to compose a sonnet to your silvery tongue.”
“Among other activities.” He curled a wicked smile—a new expression that invited all sorts of interesting ideas to take shape in her head. “I’ve ordered Thayer’s carriage to be brought around in an hour.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The trip south proved a good deal more enjoyable than the trip north. Still, Caro cou
ldn’t wait to step out of the dark, dreary carriage for the last time. The creaking woodwork, the threadbare seats—the ghost of Thayer’s presence seemed to taint everything, even the air, despite the shared laughter with Alec.
As if sensing her mood, he reached over to brush a caress to her cheek.
“We are almost there,” he murmured, as the hired driver guided the horses past a stone gatehouse and began the climb up a long, winding drive lined with stately oaks. He shifted and slanted a look out the window as the vehicle rounded the first turn.
“Hmmph.” A frown furrowed between his brows.
“What?” asked Caro, his expression stirring a frisson of alarm.
“Aunt Adelaide wouldn’t be so bacon-brained as to invite any acquaintances to visit. And yet…” He let out another grunt. “Perhaps the barouche belongs to Andover.”
“Andy doesn’t own a barouche.” Pressing her nose to the window glass, Caro squinted into the sun. The light must be playing tricks with her eyes, for the glint off the distinctive brass trim on the door panels looked horribly familiar…
“No, it couldn’t be,” she whispered.
“Is something wrong?” asked Alec.
She pursed her lips. “I must be mistaken.”
But as the carriage rolled closer to the manor house, the crest on the paneled door was all too clear.
“Oh, dear.”
Alec edged forward on the seat and angled his head for a better look. “Perhaps Andover borrowed—”
“It’s not Andover,” intoned Caro. “That is Wrexham’s traveling coach.”
Not that she wasn’t delighted that Olivia and her husband had returned to England. But seeing them at this precise moment…
“Then I take it the dark-haired, willowy young lady descending the portico stairs is your eldest sister.” A pause. “I need not ask the identity of the petite blond who has just joined her.”
Anna? Anna was here as well?
“I thought Anna and Davenport were in Russia,” mused Alec.
“So did I.” Caro expelled a sigh. “That will teach me to write a letter late at night when my emotions are aroused. I thought I was being exceedingly clever, but apparently I was simply being exceeding dramatic.”