“You’re mad.”
“No, not mad. Just in love. With you.” He stroked his fingers across her stomach, reminding her that there might be more at stake than pride and hurt feelings. “You need a husband, Em. Let it be me.”
When he assessed her like that, when he spoke in that soft tone . . .
“I don’t know what to do.” She started to shake. “I don’t know what’s best.”
“I am best. I am precisely what you need. Say you’ll have me.”
“But . . . but . . . a few weeks ago, you were engaged to somebody else.”
“A huge mistake on my part. I admit it.”
“You can’t have changed your opinion so quickly.”
“Can’t I have? I’m a man, Em, and a particularly thick-headed one at that. It never dawned on me that I was in love. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. Guess what I realized.”
“What?”
“I love you so much, I’m dying with it.”
“Oh, Nicholas.”
“I’m not much of a catch. I’m vain and stubborn and intractable, but I’m also loyal and faithful. I will always stand by you and be your staunchest ally. You’ll never be alone again.” Overwhelmed by sentiment, he had to swallow twice before he could continue. “Take a chance on me, Em. You’ll never regret it.”
Voices echoed down the lane, and they peered over to discover that the people from the party had come looking for them. Jo and Stephen Price, her sisters, Annie Price, the new vicar, the carpenters.
“Get up,” she urged, trying to tug him to his feet, but he wouldn’t budge.
“No. The entire town should bear witness to my proposal.”
“I don’t want you to be embarrassed.”
“Silly Em, you could never embarrass me.”
His brother called, “Have you worn her down yet?”
“No,” he replied. “She doesn’t think I’m worth having.”
“I didn’t say that!” she huffed.
“You didn’t say yes either.” He kissed her ring. “What’s it to be, Em? We’re waiting for your answer.”
She gazed at him, at her sisters and friends. Their expressions told her she could have it all. The husband who adored her. Children. A father to care for them and keep them safe. A home where she was happy and cherished.
“Swear to me that you mean it,” she demanded.
“Yes, I mean it. I swear.”
“Swear to me that you’ll stay at Stafford. You won’t be off gallivanting, where I’m panicked and fretting over where you are and if you’re all right.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here.”
“Promise me that it’s forever.”
“Forever . . .” He nodded. “I like the sound of it.”
She couldn’t refuse him. Not with spectators studying their every move. Not when he was offering her exactly what she craved.
The sad, pathetic fact was that she still loved him. She always had and always would, and she could have him for her very own. She could have him for the rest of her life.
“Don’t ever lie to me again,” she warned.
“I will if it’s for your own good.”
She scoffed. “You’re impossible.”
“Yes, I am. Impossible and conceited and possessed of every other bad trait. Now what’s it to be? Will you have me or not?”
“Yes, Nicholas, I will have you.”
He grinned a sly grin. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.” He stood and faced the crowd. “You heard her, folks. I’m about to become leg-shackled.”
“About time,” his brother muttered.
“Isn’t anybody going to congratulate me?”
The adults clapped and cheered, and the girls rushed over, hugging them and squealing with delight.
Nicholas soaked it all in, and she watched him, realizing how much he’d changed from the angry, solitary man he’d been when they’d first met. She’d given him this. She’d brought him this contentment, this sense of belonging.
She sighed with satisfaction.
“Let’s go back to my school.” She smiled—just for him. “I want you to show me everything.”
“You better gush over it,” he advised her. “You better spend the whole day, telling me how marvelous I am.”
“I’ll definitely tell you,” she said. “I’ll tell you and tell you, and I’ll never stop.”
CHERYL HOLT is a New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon “Top 100” bestselling author of over fifty novels.
She’s also a lawyer and mom, and at age forty, with two babies at home, she started a new career as a commercial fiction writer. She’d hoped to be a suspense novelist, but couldn’t sell any of her manuscripts, so she ended up taking a detour into romance where she was stunned to discover that she has a knack for writing some of the world’s greatest love stories.
Her books have been released to wide acclaim, and she has won or been nominated for many national awards. She has been hailed as “The Queen of Erotic Romance” as well as “The International Queen of Villains.” She is particularly proud to have been named “Best Storyteller of the Year” by the trade magazine Romantic Times BOOK Reviews.
She lives and writes in Hollywood, California, and she loves to hear from fans. Visit her website at www.cherylholt.com.
