by Brenda Joyce
She did not hesitate. “It has been very hard, Calder, but I understood that you only thought to protect me from scandal. Your motives were very noble. You see? You are a true gentleman after all!”
He almost laughed; the sound was choked instead. “Only you could be so forgiving when I put you through such hell. You are an extraordinary woman,” he said unevenly. “I don’t know you half as well as I intend to. I can think of nothing more exciting than spending the rest of my life uncovering every facet of who you are.”
She became still. “I should gladly allow you to spend a lifetime searching for such hidden facets, although you are giving me far too much credit, Calder. I am really rather ordinary.”
He actually laughed. “There is nothing ordinary about you!” he exclaimed, and then sobered. He had never missed anyone the way he had just missed Francesca.
“Calder?” she asked, her eyes shining with love and hope.
And in that instant he had an epiphany. His feelings were a miracle, he realized. She was a miracle—his miracle. What had he been thinking? “Fracesca, darling, I want that lifetime with you,” he said thickly. “But can you ever trust me again? And are you certain that is what you still want? Society is gleefully lined up, waiting to throw their newly sharpened knives at me, I have not a doubt. I don’t want a single barb aimed at you—I will not allow it, if you give me another chance.”
Francesca cried out, flinging her arms around him. “Foolish man! I would give you a hundred chances—no, a thousand!”
He held her tightly. “God, I hope I do not need a hundred new chances.”
“You probably will,” she whispered teasingly, “as you are so arrogant, high-handed and resolute.”
He did smile, even as his body came fiercely to life. “I do not know what I was thinking, to offer you a platonic friendship in exchange for what we had.” He cradled her face in his large hands. “I cannot live without you, Francesca. These past few days have shown me that. My life is black without you. Without you, it hurts.”
She became still as their gazes locked, his darkening with the smoke of desire. Need rose up in her so swiftly her knees buckled. Instantly he reached out to steady her. “I am very glad to hear you say that,” she whispered shakily, “because I cannot live without you, either. I will always be at your side, whether you want me there or not, to ease your pain. But—” she smiled “—will you at least admit that perhaps you overreacted to the crisis at hand…darling?”
“I have a feeling that I will always overreact where you are concerned,” he said roughly.
She had to smile at him, and their hands slid together. “I like the sound of that, Calder.”
His dark gaze softened and was searching. “I committed myself to you long ago, before you ever accepted my proposal, and at the time I did not even know I was making such a commitment. It was a commitment that came from my heart—perhaps from my soul. It was a commitment I never dreamed I would ever make—and it will never change.”
She was overcome. Somehow, in spite of their engagement having been briefly broken, their love had grown. Somehow their commitment had become even greater, as impossible as that seemed.
“Nothing has changed for me, either,” Francesca whispered. “I love you and I will remain with you through thick and thin. If from time to time you think that you must protect me from your dark side, I do understand and I will accept it—protestingly, of course.”
“Of course.” He smiled, his hands splayed now upon her hips. “And you will always be here, to ease my pain?”
Her heart skipped in excitement. “Hart, I was refer ring to your battered heart.”
He smiled just a little at her. “Oh! I misunderstood.” His grin was suggestive. Then it vanished. “As badly as I wish to kiss you, there is something I must do first.”
She began to tremble.
He was deadly ernest. “Francesca, I know I am a difficult man. I know I have a sordid past. This past week proved that. I know you could do far better than me. You deserve better. But I am in love with you. Deeply, darkly, hopelessly in love with you. And I wish to marry you—if you will really give me another chance—as soon as possible.”
Francesca laughed and cried and kissed him, at first quickly, and then deeply and slowly, her tongue thrusting deep.
He returned her kiss for a long, long time. Then, when they were both out of breath, he whispered, “Is that a yes?”
She kissed his fingers. “It is a thousand yeses, rolled into one.” She waved her hand at him.
He laughed. “I thought you might refuse me, or at least pretend to be coy. But you are still wearing my ring.”
“Of course I am! Even if you married someone else, I wouldn’t take it off!”
He laughed, the sound happy, his pleasure lighting up his face, his eyes. Then he became serious. “There will never be anyone else, not in my bed, my heart or my life.”
“I can manage that,” she said as happily, seeking his hand with hers. Their palms clasped. “So what do you think we should do? Papa has said he wants to sit down with you and get to know you somewhat. He is coming around, Calder. That means we can have a small ceremony, just family and friends.”
“We can invite all of society, if you wish, and have a scandalous, impossibly expensive society wedding, so our detractors can be green with jealousy.”
“Ooh, I do like that idea.”
He laughed. “I thought you might,” he murmured. He kissed the top of her head.
Francesca met his gaze and smiled. Did they dare have the wedding of the decade and taunt society in such a manner? She wasn’t sure it mattered, but the idea was so tempting.
Her wildest dreams, her dearest hopes were going to come true after all. Only that morning she hadn’t been sure if their relationship would survive as she wished it to, but it was hardly over. This was a new begining—better and more promising than ever before. The joy inside her was threatening to make her burst. “Maybe we should get out of the rain and go somewhere private—to discuss our wedding,” she said in a silken tone. It had been far too long, she thought.
He grinned briefly. “Yes, somewhere private, a good idea, darling.” The last word dripped from his tone like cream and there was no mistaking his intentions.
She went still. “You wish to discuss the wedding?”
His gaze was dark. “Of course. However, I recently—very recently—heard you claim that you could never refuse me.” He gave her a sidelong look.
Every heated moment they had ever shared raced through her mind. Francesca tried to breathe, but her chest had never felt so tight. “I will never refuse you,” she said softly. “Just tell me what you want.” And she simply looked at him.
“You know what I want,” he said thickly, pulling her completely into his arms. “I want to take you to my bed—right now—and I want to show you how terribly I have missed you and how much I have regretted our separation.”
“Then we should call your driver,” she whispered. “Because I am no longer shy and innocent and I want to show you a thing or two.” She could not smile, not now.
“A thing or two?” He blinked, amused.
He had been poised to kiss her for several seconds now and she somehow smiled, quite incapable of drawing a normal breath. “I want to show you how much I love you, Calder. And I am going to show you—in your bed—I am going to remind you, again and again, that I am here to stay, no matter what demons you think to fight, and I will never leave you, or doubt you. But I must warn you. My passion does not feel controllable tonight.”
He stared, his gaze smoldering. “Warning taken,” he murmured, and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her very, very thoroughly, tongue to tongue, for a very long time.
When he was done, she was breathless and dizzy, the grass beneath her feet tilting quite precariously. Worse, he had set a fire and it needed to be extinguished, as soon as possible—the carriage would do. And then, of course, there was the wedding they must plan.
She could barely wait. “Take me home, Hart,” she said.
He gave her a lazy, heavily lidded look. “I think that can be arranged, darling.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8440-5
DEADLY KISSES
Copyright © 2006 by Brenda Joyce Dreams Unlimited, Inc.
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