The Wedding Duel (The Dueling Pistols Series) (42 page)

She crashed into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. He'd never let her go.

"I love you, Sophie, and I shall spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy. I don't think I could have avoided you any longer, even if your kisses had meant my death."

She pressed her lips to the underside of his chin. "My unruliness is not contagious."

He tilted her head back to drink in her face. "You are a bit wild."

She yanked his head down and kissed him on the mouth. She pulled back and stared at him. He felt measured and found wanting. If he could just have another chance, he would find a way to bring her the moon and the stars if he had to rip them from the sky.

"I suppose that was rather too bold of me, and I should not have run across the room to you."

"I love that you run to me. I love your enthusiasm for life. I'm so sorry my distance has hurt you. Wounding you was
never my intention. I just wanted to protect myself." He
stroked his fingers down her neck.

Her lips parted as she tilted her head back. He couldn't resist the invitation. He ended the kiss only after she eagerly clung to him with a magic that threatened his control. "Ah, love, I know I've made a hash of our marriage, but if you give me another chance, I shall endeavor to make you love me."

"Oh, Keene, I already do. I always have."

With her fevered avowal his world righted itself. His grin threatened to split his face in two.

"I thought you hated me. You always lecture me so."

"I do so wish you would try to stay on the inside of the upper stories. Your safety means everything to me."

She frowned.

"Ah, and Sophie, when you raise your skirts and run down
the hall it requires every ounce of my willpower to resist
scooping you up and carrying you to my bed. You have the most delectable ankles and knees and—"

"There is no need to resist any longer. I am quite happy in your bed."

"Well, then, there is only one thing left to do."

"That is?"

"Find a bed and complete your instruction in making love."

Sophie cast a glance around the room. "A sofa won't do?"

"I'm afraid it will have to." He released the few buttons fastened on his shirt. "For I don't think I could wait long enough to get you home."

She pushed his shirt from his shoulders. And he bit back his groan of enthusiasm. His need was nearly as overpowering as before, but this time, if it killed him, he was doing it right—for her, for their future, forever.

The End

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