Say yes. Just say yes.

Emily was appalled, as Eric made his way down the steps, to hear her lips form the word, “Why?” But, despite the screaming protestations of her heart, she had to know. His answer would make all the difference.

He stopped a few feet from her, submerged to his waist, gooseflesh rising on his chest. “Because I love you.”

“You love me because I’m my father’s daughter?”

“No.” He spoke sharply, and she wondered if she’d offended him. “I love you because you are a maddening, wise, beautiful abolitionist who reads too much.”

She gasped and took a step toward him, but he waved her away. Her gaze was riveted to the palm he held aloft as he spoke. “I thought my family and the wars had cauterized me, burning off any ability to feel anything. I wasn’t upset by it. I merely accepted it as the way of things. It made me the perfect spy.” He lowered the hand, and she lifted her eyes. It almost hurt to look at him, standing in the water like a sea god.

“You changed that,” he went on. “You’re right—I did feel responsible for you. That’s why I asked the first time.” He tilted his head to the sky and smiled. “And the second and third time. Well, that and the fact that you were about to ruin my mission—that’s how it all started.” He continued to stare at the stars for a moment before lowering his gaze to meet hers. “I was afraid of you, you know.”

A bubble of disbelieving laughter escaped her throat.

“It’s true. Had been all these years. As long as you were closeted away in Somerset, I didn’t have to face you. Didn’t have to face the orphan I’d created.”

“And then I showed up at your house!”

“Indeed.”

“And you started following me!”

“Of course I did! You were on your way to taking down my one link to Le Cafard. You were the enemy! My God, I thought, why can’t this woman content herself with embroidery and walks in the park? Why can’t she be more ordinary?”

When she moved to protest, and risked another step in his direction, he held up a censuring finger. “I’ll answer that. Because if she were ordinary, she wouldn’t have brought all manner of other things with her it turned out I desperately needed—absolution, compassion, understanding. And, I hope, love.”

She nodded vigorously. Oh, how she wanted him to stop talking.

“That is why, I should be the luckiest man alive if you would do me the honor of being my wife.”

Finally, he touched her, reaching for her hand and kissing it. Though the gesture was restrained, the heat of his mouth was a brand on her wet skin. When he lifted his head, his eyes danced. “And I’m warning you, this is my final offer. I make it a policy never to propose marriage to a lady more than four times.”

Blackstone’s relief at what he was interpreting as a “yes” was quickly superseded by a wild spike of lust as Emily threw herself into his arms. When her lips met his, he shuddered, his body recognizing that the struggle was finally over. He drank her in, luxuriating in the amazing softness of her tongue. Would he ever get used to this?

Emily’s wet hands slid over his still-dry chest, and the cold water made him shiver. But his shivering was soon replaced by delighted shock as she brazenly began undoing the buttons that ran down the front of her bathing costume. He moved reflexively to help her, lifting the sodden skirt out of the water and gathering the wet fabric together before lifting the whole mass over her head.

God above, she was beautiful.

“I see one problem here.”

“What?” He searched for something amiss as he told himself not to panic.

“I am completely naked, while you, my lord, are still wearing breeches.”

He hopped to remedy the situation while saying, “If you don’t stop my lording me, you shall be very sorry.”

“Is that so?”

He flung his breeches aside and grabbed her. “Very, very sorry.” Oh, but she was breathtaking. Small white breasts with perfect rosebud tips. He reached out to cup one gently with his palm, then flicked one finger over her nipple. She rewarded him with a sharp gasp. Would she make the same noise if he did the same thing on the other side? Ah, yes! “Sorrier than you can imagine,” he whispered, nipping hungrily at her lips and then trailing kisses over her chin and down her smooth, pale neck.

When she stepped forward and pressed herself against the entire length of his body, he groaned and abandoned the teasing approach in favor of letting his mouth crash down on hers. He allowed himself only a minute to savor the pleasure exploding through his body. It was too soon to become unhinged. Pulling away, he took primal pride in her indignant mew of protest. “All in good time,” he whispered as he began gently pushing her toward the edge of the pool. When her back hit the side, he lifted her so she was sitting on the edge with her legs still in the water. “Put your hands on the ground behind you and lean back a little,” he said gruffly. She obeyed without protest. He nudged her legs open and began lavishing kisses on silken inner thighs made silver by moonlight, relishing the shaky breaths she was heaving in response.

He took his time, slowly working his way up to the curls between her legs. Bracing her leg open with his injured arm, he used the fingers of his left hand to comb through them, before dropping a kiss right on the center of her mons.

She sat up ramrod straight. “Are you sure you should be—”

“Do. Not. Argue. With. Me,” he said, dropping kisses between words as he spread her folds. When he arrived at his destination, she squeaked.

“What are you doing?”

“You haven’t read about this,” he answered, purposefully blowing a little as he spoke. “Not everything,” he darted his tongue out, “is best learned from books, my love.”

“Oh my heavens,” Emily said as she stared at the sky. She wished she could think of something cleverer to say, as that particular phrase had passed her lips an embarrassing number of times as Eric had brought her to ever higher heights, until his exquisite torture finally tipped her over the edge.

He lay beside her next to the pool, his arm resting heavily over her belly. She was dimly aware that his member was still stiff, but not only was she immobilized, she seemed to be unable to summon coherent language.

“Oh my heavens,” she said, once more for good measure.

He chuckled, a low, throaty laugh that rumbled through the chest her head rested on. “So you forfeit?”

“Hmmm?”

“You admit that this was not best learned through books?”

“Yes!” When speech returned, movement did, too. Boldly, she snaked her hand down and ran her fingers lightly over his cock.

Hissing as if she’d hurt him, he rolled his lower body out of her reach.

“I’m sure this is better learned through experience, too,” she said, parrying the unspoken refusal.

“There is no hurry. We will be married in less than a month. Now that we’re betrothed, I think we should wait.” He pulled himself up, graceful and lithe as a cat, and made his way over to his discarded breeches.

“Wait a month?” She couldn’t keep the dismay out of her voice. Why was he suddenly being such a stickler? “Can’t you get a special license?”

“I can.” He rummaged through a pocket. “But I thought we would call the banns in Essex. There is a little church on the estate. And think how lovely it will be to have the lake always at our disposal. This”—he gestured vaguely around them with his head—“is all fine and good, but it pales in comparison to the real thing, don’t you think?”

“Are you saying you want to live at Clareford Manor?” she asked, a little stunned. She realized they had much to discuss.

“I want to live where you want to live,” he said quickly, making his way back over and lowering himself to sit cross-legged next to her. His earnestness wrenched her heart. “There’s the London house, and I also have an estate in Scotland. And a hunting box in the Lake District. The Lake District! You’ll love it there.”

Laughing, she shook her head. “So many houses for one man!”

“They’re not mine, of course. They belong to the title.”

The smile died on her lips. “I’m going to be a countess.”

“You sound like you’ve just proclaimed your own death sentence.” He held out his closed fist. “Here, I should have got you a ring, but I thought you’d like this better.”

He opened his palm. She sucked in a breath. It was the pink rock she’d plucked off the bottom of the lake at Clareford Manor. Choking back tears, she let him place it on her palm.

“Certainly not a gem suitable for a countess,” he smiled. “But then, I don’t expect you’ll be the average countess.”

“I won’t give up Edward Markham’s columns,” she said quickly. There was so much she hadn’t thought of in the rush of happiness after he’d proposed. “Just because we saved Billy doesn’t mean I’m going to stop.”

He smiled and dropped a kiss on her nose. “I would expect no less. Perhaps I’ll even take up my seat in Lords.”

“Are you a Tory or a Whig?” She clutched his arm, suddenly seeing the possibilities.

“I don’t know!” He laughed. “But I promise to vote however you tell me to.” He deposited another kiss on her nose, following it with one on her left eyebrow. “Parliament aside, I will have to spend some time in London.”

“You’re going to keep spying.” The prospect frightened her. “Are all your missions as dangerous as this last one?”

“In fact, I spent most of this evening negotiating a new situation with Whitehall. I’ll be taking on a leadership role. Less time in the field. Safer.”

He must have interpreted her lack of response as disapproval, when in fact it was shock. “I still have responsibilities I can’t turn my back on,” he explained.

It was her turn to kiss his nose and say, “I would expect no less.” She smiled. “I am rather fond of that lake at Clareford Manor. But I think time spent in London will be welcome, too. I’ll give Billy and Sally my house.”

“I’ve thought about that. I’ve a dower house on the estate—and nary a dowager in sight.”

Could he mean…? She didn’t dare ask.

“It’s not large,” he continued, “but it’s picturesque. Perhaps you saw it on one of your visits. It’s set in a small dale, surrounded by gardens. I think it should do rather nicely for them. It’s only a quarter mile from the great house, so you can visit every day. And your grandmother can stay with us or with Mrs. Smith, as you all like.”

A tear escaped the corner of her eye, and he nudged his nose to her temple to intercept it.

“Billy will want to work,” she said. “He wants to earn an honest living. It’s all he’s been talking of.”

“There’s no shortage of work on the estate—he can choose what suits him. I am in need of a valet.” He grinned. “Or so I am told.”

Thinking about Billy and Sally made her thoughts turn to…“Sarah,” she said the name aloud.

“Yes,” said Eric, turning serious. “She’s got the worst of this all, hasn’t she?”

“It breaks my heart. Deceived by a man she loved. Her family in disgrace.”

Eric stroked her collarbone. “Your home will always be open to her, I would imagine.”

Again, she hardly dared hope.

“And my home is your home,” he finished. “Just don’t expect me to listen to her monologues. Perhaps she can keep your grandmother company. After all, Mrs. Talbot wants only an audience, and your grandmother should be very good at that.”

She covered her face with her hands. It was all too much. “You have everything worked out, haven’t you?”

“Perhaps not everything.”

The uncertainly in his voice prompted her to sit up. “What’s wrong?” Panic started to pool in her belly.

“It’s just that I always intended to be the last of my family line.”

Mind churning, she examined her soul. She’d reconciled herself to a life without a family of her own, but now that it was within her grasp, would she be able to give it up? “You don’t want children?”

“I want children. I want our children.” He voice broke and he closed his eyes. “I just don’t want them to…”

She realized suddenly what was happening. “You don’t want them to be burdened with the afflictions that haunted your mother and brother.”

Looking miserable, he nodded.

She knew then, that she wanted this man more than anything, children or no. “No one can know what the future holds. And if the risk feels too big, there are ways to prevent conception.” She smiled. “I’m sure I’ll be able to find some books on the subject.”

His eyes searched her face. “You would give up the possibility of children?”

“Yes. If I have to.”

“If we had a child, and he—or she—was stricken—” His voice broke and it took a moment for him to recover himself enough to continue. “I’m just not sure I could bear it again.”

“It’s a possibility, I concede. But if it happened, there would be a critical difference.”

“What?”

“Love. A child of ours, healthy or ill, would be surrounded by love. It might not be enough but—”

“It might be,” he finished, his voice gruff as he offered a lopsided smile.

The impossible mixture of happiness and wistfulness swirling through her chest suddenly felt like it might crush her. She sat up, wanting to shake it off, to turn off her mind. She scooted herself forward until she could slip back into the pool, and then she turned and crooked a finger at him.

Dear Lord above, she was going to be the end of him. Blackstone watched his wife-to-be beckon him and then turn and disappear under the water, only to resurface half a minute later on the other side of the pool. In a very dark corner. Maybe that special license was in order after all.

He followed. How could he not? She, willing to face an uncertain future with him, had given him everything.

When he reached her, she was leaning against the far edge of the pool, and her hair, which had sprung back into coils while they’d been out of the water, was once again slicked down her body. She had only to tilt her mouth up slightly and he was there, crushing those rosebud lips under his own. Opening for him, she sighed. He groaned and pressed onward, unable to stop the frantic searching of his lips and tongue. Using his good hand, he anchored her head and pulled her against him. She lifted herself up onto her toes, causing her hips to brush up against his. He growled and lifted her, pressing her against him.

“Oh my heavens,” he whispered.

“I think that’s my line,” she panted, talking against his lips even as she kissed him.

“We have to stop,” he said. “We have to stop now, or I won’t be able to.”

She reached down and stroked him.

“This isn’t the place for this.” He had developed a fantasy of their wedding night. It would take all his willpower to keep from tumbling her every time he saw her between now and then, but it would be worth it when they finally gave themselves to each other as man and wife.

She responded by wrapping her legs around his hips, the water making her buoyant. He was forced to wrap both arms around her to keep them upright.

“This is exactly the place for this,” she declared, her voice echoing across the water. As she spoke, she positioned her entrance over him, and he was lost.

So much for prenuptial chastity. “I’m sorry,” he managed to groan as he plunged inside her.

He was dimly aware of her saying, “I’m not,” before his awareness shrank so that it encompassed only the waves of sensation that racked him, beginning in his cock and ripping though his belly and chest, so intense he thought they might crush his heart.

She rode him, crying out as he thrust. When he lowered his head for a moment, unable to keep it upright, he grazed her nipple with his cheek. Her answering gasp directed him back in a more concerted manner. He captured the pink peak and flicked it with his tongue, teasing, mindless, consumed with her. She was on her way up the mountain. Forcing himself to keep the pace steady, he laved her nipple as he continued to bury himself in her sweet tightness over and over. When he sensed she was close, he whispered, “Hold on tight,” lowered his good arm, and used a single finger to seek out and stroke her bud, praying he would outlast her.

“You should pull out,” she whispered, even as her eyes glazed over.

“No,” he said. She made him brave.

“Are you sure, because—” She couldn’t finish the sentence—he made sure of it. He braced her against the edge of the pool. Three more hard, bucking strokes and he hurtled over the edge along with her.

They stood there for a long time, the night punctuated with the sound of their heavy breathing. He buried his face in her neck, and it wasn’t until she shivered that he managed to think logically about what came next. He was cold, too, he realized. Bending his knees, he knelt on the bottom, leaving only his head above water. He tugged her into his embrace, holding her so that she was similarly submersed in the water, which was warmer than the night air.

“It is rather cold, isn’t it, my lord?”

“What did I tell you about that?” He jestingly shook a finger in her face.

She was all coy innocence as she backed away, eyeing him the whole time. “You told me I would be very, very sorry if I didn’t stop my lording you.”

“And you shall be,” he said with mock sternness. He didn’t do anything for a moment, reveling in the sight of her as she bit her lip to keep from laughing. Then, lighting-quick, he used his forearms and hand to scoop the water, drenching her with a mighty splash.

“Eee!” she shrieked, ineffectually sending back small splashes he easily evaded.

They splashed and played for a few minutes, until he let her push him down and pin him against the wall of the pool. Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her body against his. “I emerge the victor,” she announced.

“To the victor go the spoils?” he suggested, glancing down at his stiffening member.

Her lips curled into a wicked smile. “Yes. But first may we go for a swim?” She didn’t wait for a response, merely turned and dove.

“Yes,” he whispered, his heart nearly exploding at the sight of her. “Let’s go for a swim.”

And he followed his love into the water.