Page 47 of Miss Harvey's Horribly Lovable Fiancé
He stood by the bed. “I love you, Esme Harvey.”
* * *
She marveledat all he had accomplished and how he’d changed their fortunes. She wanted him in her arms to kiss him again. And to do more.
But he stood beside the bed. Solemn, he reached into his inside waistcoat pocket. He extracted a small half-sized parchment paper, a document of some sort with printing and someone’s scribbling, too.
She frowned, suspicious. “What is that?”
“Our license.”
She stared at it, then at him. The sorrow on his face incited fear to race through her bloodstream.
“I want you to be happy, my darling. I will take you home and afterward, I will issue to the papers a statement that you are blameless in this matter. That you decided not to marry me. And that you bear no stain upon your name…or your person.”
She froze.
“I love you and I will spend the rest of my life loving you. I want you to find a man who’ll love you as you deserve…and be happy.”
With that, he lifted his other hand and put it to the paper.
“No!” She caught him by the wrist. “Don’t tear it up!”
“Esme, you must be free to have another.” He tugged at her hold.
She tugged him back. “I don’t want another. I want you for my husband, Giles! Only you.”
“That is not the same as—” He avoided her reach.
“I love you,” she cried, grabbing at the elusive paper. “I love you. Giles!” She snatched the paper from him and tucked it beneath her hips. “Come here, let me prove it to you.”
He shook his head.
“Infuriating man,” she bit off, then tugged him down with both hands. And when he was over her, she embraced him once more with her legs clamping his, her arms around his back. “Isn’t that better?”
His hazel eyes went bleak.
She couldn’t wait for his answer. Despair driving her, she cupped his jaw and put her lips to his. All their other kisses had been his to her, but this time she had to open his mind to her own desires. And so she brushed his mouth. “I love you.”
She dove her fingers into his marvelous soft hair and held him as she put her open mouth to his and invited him into hers. He’d tempted her a few times before with his tongue and she did that now to him. He caught his breath, pulled away to stare into her eyes and then crushed her close to explore the caverns of her own passion with his tongue. She wanted more.
But he would not give it and sighed, then made to rise and leave her still.
No. She would not have it!
His cravat hung loose and she grasped both ends, pulling him near to her once again.
But he shook his head. “Lust is not love, my darling.”
“What is a good marriage without both?” she asked him on a sigh and expected no answer.
He smiled, a pitiful thing, and would have gone but that she caught him with such force she rolled him to his back.
And so she made quick work of slithering off his cravat, capturing one of his hands, working a firm knot into the thing and tying him to the bedpost. His other hand she caught and trailed it down her throat, the opening of her shirt and beneath the thin fabric, the place where her heart beat.
He fastened his inquiring gaze on hers.
“You have solved all my problems as you solved your own, my darling Giles. Won’t you let me spend my life making up to you for the scandal I caused by running from you?”
