James’s fingers tightened on her shoulders. “Those gentlemen constantly vying for your attention would not agree,” he rasped his displeasure at that knowledge.
“They mean nothing to me, James.” She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “You are the man I fell in love with the first time I met you. A man who has shown me nothing but kindness and caring from the beginning. The man I have no doubts I will continue to love for the rest of my life.”
“But you required more from me,” he acknowledged. “A steadfastness in your strength to take care of yourself. Along with a need to know that I desire you beyond life.”
“Yes.”
He gave a slight wince. “Before we go any further, are you able to forgive me for this evening’s subterfuge?”
“I understand why you felt the need to behave in this way, so of course I forgive you,” she answered without hesitation. “Do you forgive me?”
“Always,” he assured fervently.
“Thank you.” She gave him a tearful smile. “I should very much like to meet your friends under different circumstances. Most of all, I should like to thank them for saving your life ten years ago, and so allowing you to be alive to love me and so that I might love you in return. If you do still love me?” she added uncertainly.
James held her gaze as he moved round to stand in front of her. “This is far from the ideal place for this, but…” He took hold of one of her hands and dropped to one knee. “Beatrix Margaret Anne Winter.” He smiled when her eyes widened in surprise at his knowing her full name. “I love, adore, respect, and desire you with every particle of my being. Would you do me the greatest honor and become my wife and countess?”
Hot tears welled up and stung Beatrix’s eyes before cascading down her cheeks. “Yes,” she accepted wholeheartedly.
James rose to his feet, pulling Beatrix up with him, before taking her into his arms and lowering his head so that his lips could claim hers.
Beatrix was instantly bombarded with even more emotions.
Happiness.
Desire.
But most of all, love.
Chapter Eight
“What is this place?” Beatrix looked at their less than ideal surroundings sometime later.
“A row of empty shops bought by my uncle when he held the Ipswich title. The lads and I intend to refurbish them before I sell them.” He smiled ruefully. “I may now be the Earl of Ipswich, but they will always be my friends, and I will always want them to be a part of my life,” he explained.
She nodded. “As they should be.”
James frowned his concerned as Beatrix then gave a shiver. “Perhaps it is time I took you home?”
“Your home?”
His eyes widened. “I do not think that would be…appropriate.”
Beatrix burst out laughing. “I have been kidnapped, held hostage by three ruffians in an abandoned store, been proposed to by a fourth, and then kissed within an inch of my life. I believe we dispensed with propriety the moment your friend Billy threw me over his shoulder and carried me away from Shaftesbury House under your instruction!”
James’s lips curved into a smile, a humor that was reflected in the glint of his eyes. “It does seem so, yes.”
Her expression brightened. “We can send a note to Benedict assuring him of my safety once we reach Ipswich House, and then tomorrow, I am sure that you or Benedict will be able to secure a special marriage license from the Prince Regent. That way, we will be able to marry within the next week, and it will not matter if there are consequences to our having anticipated our wedding night by several days?”
A warm glow filled James’s chest at the thought of Beatrix becoming his wife within a matter of days. Nor was he in the least concerned with propriety. Except… “You will not think anticipating our wedding night is the same as me not treating you with the respect you deserve?”
She chuckled. “I will see it as you desiring me as desperately as I desire you.”
“In that case… My carriage awaits outside, my lady.” James swept her up into his arms and carried her over to the door, waiting until she had reached down and opened it before he carried her outside to where his carriage did indeed await.
Once they reached Ipswich House, James proceeded to show Beatrix exactly how much he respected and desired her, as much as he loved her to his very heart and soul.
Beatrix had never dreamed that such ecstasy existed as when, naked in bed with him, James suckled her nipples into the heat of his mouth or, having slid farther down her body, he lay between her parted thighs and his lips and tongue played with the nubbin hidden amongst the curls covering her mound until her body exploded in a cascade of rapturous pleasure.
“Yes,” she encouraged. She parted her legs wider after James moved upward, until the hardness of his cock nudged against but did not enter the opening to her weeping channel. “Please, James,” she urged at his delay.
He gazed intently into her eyes. “I love you so very much, Beatrix.”
“As I love you,” she assured. “Now please, make me yours,” she pressed breathlessly, her arms and legs wrapped about his chest and thighs.
He continued to hold her gaze with his as he rested his weight on one elbow while lifting up to use his other hand to guide and then ease his throbbing cock inside her.
There was a pinch of pain for a second or two before that hardness surged fully inside her. Beatrix joyfully met each pleasurable thrust as James claimed her, and she claimed him, for the rest of their lives.
“It would seem we both bear the scars of our past.” Beatrix traced the myriad scars upon James’s bare chest, arms, and back as the two of them lay naked in his bed a long time later.
James’s scars had mainly occurred, he had told her, from his having
