friction to them both-"does bring me a little closer."
She gulped. "Only closer? Not all the way there?"
He smiled slowly and shook his head. "Of course if I did this"-he gave his hips a tiny thrust-"I'd be almost there."
"But did you- Am I still-"
"-a virgin?" he completed for her. "Technically, I suppose, yes, but as far as I'm concerned, you're mine."
Caroline swallowed and blinked back tears, barely able to contain her emotions. It was amazing what a simple sentence could do to her. You're mine. Oh, how she wanted that to be true. Forever.
"Make me yours," she whispered. "In every way."
She could see in his face how much his restraint was costing him. The night air was chilly, but Blake's brow was beaded with sweat, and the muscular cords of his throat stood out prominently.
"I don't want to hurt you," he said, his voice straining against itself.
"You won't."
And then, as if the last bit of his reserve had been used up, he let out a hoarse cry and plunged forward, sheathing himself within her completely. "Sweet Lord," he gasped. "Caroline."
She couldn't fight off a crazy urge to laugh. "Oh, Blake," she gasped. "I see the difference now."
"Do you?"
"There's more?"
He nodded. "Just wait and see."
And then he began to move.
Later Caroline couldn't decide which part she'd liked best. Was it the feeling of completeness she felt when they were joined as one? Was it the primitive rhythm of his body as he claimed her as his own? Certainly she couldn't discount the explosive climax she'd felt, immediately followed by Blake's shout of passion as he left his seed in her.
But now, as she lay in his arms, the ocean breeze caressing their bodies, she thought that this might be the best of all. He was so warm and close, and she could hear his heartbeat as it slowed to its normal, sedate pace. She could smell the salt on his skin and the passion in the air. And there was something so right about it all, as if she'd waited her whole life just for this moment.
But mixed in with her happiness was an uneasy fear. What happened now? Did this mean he wanted to marry her? And if he did, was that only because he now felt it was the right thing to do? And if that were the case, did she care?
Well, of course she cared. She wanted him to love her with the intensity of emotion she felt for him. But maybe he would learn to love her if they were married. She might be miserable if she married a man who didn't love her, but she knew she'd be miserable without him. Maybe she should just close her eyes, jump in, and hope for the best.
Or maybe, she thought with a frown, she ought to remember that he hadn't said more than two words to her since they'd made love, and certainly nothing about marriage.
"Why the long face?" Blake asked, idly stroking her hair with his fingers.
She shook her head. "Nothing. Just woolgathering."
"About me, I imagine," he said quietly. "And my intentions."
She drew back in horror. "I would never dream of manipulating you into-"
"Shush," he said with soft authority. "I know."
"You do?"
"We will be married as soon as I can obtain a special license."
Her heart leaped. "Are you sure?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"A stupid one," she mumbled. Hadn't she just decided mat she didn't care if he wanted to marry her just because it was the right thing to do?
No, that wasn't right. She did care. She was just going to marry him anyway.
"Caroline?" Amusement was evident in his voice.
"Yes?"
"Are you going to answer my question?"
She blinked. "Did you ask me one?"
"I asked you if you would..." He paused. "No, actually I didn't ask."
Before Caroline realized what he was about, he rolled over and got up on one knee. "Caroline Trent, soon to be Ravenscroft," he said, "will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
If her eyes hadn't filled with so many tears, she might have actually chuckled at the sight of him proposing to her stark naked. "Yes," she said, nodding furiously. "Yes, yes, yes."
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Good."
Caroline closed her eyes for a few seconds. She wanted to close off all her senses so that she might savor the moment in her mind. No sight, no touch, no smell-nothing to distract her from the exquisite joy in her heart.
"Caroline?"
"Shhh." She waved her hand at him and then, a few seconds later, opened her eyes and said, "There. What were you going to say?"
His expression was curious. "What was that all about?"
"Nothing, I- Oh look!" She pointed up at the sky.
"What?" he asked, his eyes following her finger.
"The sky must have cleared up. The stars are out."
"So they are," he murmured, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "But then again, you were the one who said they were there all along."
Caroline squeezed his hand in hers. "Yes," she agreed. "They were."
A half hour later they were dressed-albeit rather disheveled-and trying to slip into the house as quietly as possible.
James, however, was waiting in the front hall.
"I told you we should have used the back stairs," Caroline muttered.
"I assume you're back for the night?" James said mildly. "Perriwick wanted to lock the door, but I wasn't sure you'd brought a key."
"We've decided to be married," Blake blurted out.
James merely lifted one eyebrow and murmured, "I thought you might."
Chapter 21
prov-e-nance (noun). Origin, derivation.
I cannot claim to know or understand the provenance of romantic love, but I'm not sure that it is something that needs to be understood, just appreciated and revered.
-From the personal dictionary of
Caroline Ravenscroft
They were married one week later, much to the delight of Penelope, who insisted upon purchasing a trousseau for the bride. Caroline had thought that the two ready-made dresses Blake had purchased for her were a luxury, but nothing could compare to Penelope's idea of a suitable wardrobe. Caroline let her soon-to-be sister choose everything-with one exception. The dressmaker owned a bolt of blue-green silk the exact color of her eyes, and Caroline insisted upon having an evening gown fashioned out of it. She had never given much thought to her eyes before, but after Blake had skimmed his fingers across her eyelids and declared her eyes the exact color of the ocean at the equator ... Well, she really couldn't help becoming a little bit proud of them.
The wedding ceremony was small and private, with only Penelope, James, and Seacrest Manor's servants in attendance. Blake's older brother had wanted to come, but one of his daughters had taken ill, and he didn't want to leave her. Caroline thought that was as it should be and penned him a note expressing her desire to meet him at a more convenient time.
Perriwick gave the bride away. Mrs. Mickle was so jealous she insisted upon playing the part of mother of the bride, even though that role didn't entail her actually taking part in the ceremony.