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“Damn you, Caroline.”

He strode to her, grabbed her upper arms, and shook her. She did absolutely nothing, just let him shake to his heart’s content. At last he seemed to have stopped dithering. He stopped abruptly and in the very next instant, suddenly wild and urgent, he was kissing her, crushing her against him. She knew then, more surely than she knew anything in her entire life, that this man was the only one for her. Did that mean spiritual intermingling? Did this mean she would expect him to spout sentimental rot? She parted her lips and felt his warmth, tasted the sweet wine he’d had for lunch, felt his tongue lightly stroke hers.

At that moment, the sun broke through the clouds and they were bathed in fierce light. It felt odd, the heat of the sun overhead and the heat he was building deep inside her, beneath his hands, through her clothes.

This time she knew he wouldn’t stop. She also knew she wouldn’t stop him, not that she’d ever tried to stop him in the past. Come what may afterward, tomorrow, next week, she wanted this to happen. She wanted him and perhaps, just perhaps, he would sense the love she felt for him, the commitment she was offering to him.

Ah, she would give him laughter, surely there was nothing more seductive than laughter.

But he stopped cold, in the very next instant, dropped his arms from her, and stumbled back several steps.

“North?”

He looked at her as if he hated her. “Listen to me, Caroline, if I don’t stop now, I won’t. That’s the truth of it. Do you want me to take your virginity here on a wet beach?”

She looked him squarely in his face. “Yes,” she said. “I shouldn’t mind where you made love with me. I just wish you’d get a grip on yourself and do it, North.”

He stared at her and she could see he was trying to come up with more arguments, but it was obvious his own lust, his own full-blown need, was hampering his thinking. It was probably a good thing.

“Sand gets into everything,” he said at last. “I made love to Emily Trevedor on a beach when I was fifteen, and I itched in very embarrassing parts for a good week afterward. Poor girl, I don’t know how she dealt with the miserable sand.”

Caroline laughed, she couldn’t help it. “Oh, North, you are so wonderful. I don’t care where you make love with me. I just want you so very much. I want you to teach me everything. I want you to show me how to please you and give you as much joy and excitement as you give to me.”

He frowned at her, but said with some humor, “If you gave me any more excitement, I’d explode.”

She cocked her head to one side in question.

“Men are excessively uncomplicated when it comes to sexual matters. Don’t look at me like that. All right, Caroline Derwent-Jones. Just what the hell am I going to do with you?”

Here I go, Mrs. Trebaw, she thought, no more dithering, and said, “Marry me.”

He plowed his fingers through his thick hair. He looked harassed. He looked distracted. “Damnation, I hadn’t thought to marry anytime soon. I’m o

nly twenty-five years old, my birthday isn’t for four more months. I thought to marry when I was much older, say thirty-five or so, beget an heir and that would be that.”

“Begetting an heir would be nice, North, but I think there are other things as well that would bring you pleasure and contentment and joy. Perhaps you could consider me being with you, laughing with you, discussing things with you—”

“Fighting with me, doubtless.”

“Certainly. That’s all a part of life. I can’t believe I’d smash you under my female tyrant’s thumb like you seem to think I’d do to Owen.”

“Since when do you know so much about life?”

She was silent for just a moment. She didn’t look at him, just said quietly, “I was very much alone for a good many years, and to be honest, I didn’t know much of anything. I knew there was more, but I didn’t know how to get it or even where to find it.” She drew a deep breath and looked at him straightly. “Now I have so much. Now I have you, and it’s wonderful to have someone to care about, someone to worry about, someone to trust. It’s still very new to me, and if I offend you, please forgive me, for I do it out of ignorance.

“I think I grew up quite magically that night Mr. Ffalkes tried to rape me. I didn’t learn all that much about life, but I did grow up. No, no, I’m not trying to get you to pity me, to soothe me. It’s not that at all, North. It’s just that I want to marry you. No other man, just you. I want to spend my life with you, no other man. I want very much to be with you forever. I’m a good sort, North, and I swear I’ll try my best not to disappoint you, or pry when you want to be private, or beg you for flattery or romance or anything like that. I swear never to be maudlin.”

He looked ready to stamp his boot into the sand. Instead, he plowed his fingers through his hair. “Why, for God’s sake? You see me as your best protection against Ffalkes? If so that’s nonsense. I’d kill the bugger before I married you for that reason.”

“Oh no. I think I want to experience this lust business of yours for the next fifty years of my life.” She walked to him then and was pleased when he didn’t back up anymore. She slipped her arms around his back and looked up at him. “I think you’re the most wonderful man in the world, North.”

He gave her a twisted smile. “What if I go off and brood on the moors with my hounds?”

“I’ll have Polgrain pack you a hearty lunch and wave good-bye to you. And when you come home, I’ll smile at you and kiss you and caress you until you forgot why ever you wanted to go to the moors in the first place.”

“I’m used to being alone, Caroline, just as you were alone. The big difference was that I wanted to be alone. It’s not the same thing—being alone and lonely. I knew people, knew all about them, and I decided I preferred keeping to myself. I left Mount Hawke when I was sixteen, I told you that. I had no one when I left here, and even now the number of men who are my close friends are very few. I’m not good being with people, Caroline, particularly women, at least women who are ladies.”

“That isn’t true at all.” She went up on her tiptoes and kissed his mouth. “Why do you say you’re not good with women?” She kissed him again and again, light nipping kisses, kisses he’d taught her. “You’ve always been wonderful with me. You make me laugh, you make me want to touch you and hold you and kiss you until I dwindle away into an old woman.”


Tags: Catherine Coulter Legacy Historical