Chapter Twenty-One
Victoria blinked, stunned by the sight of the earl’s muscular and very naked chest six inches from her nose. She could barely assemble a coherent thought.
Then she made the mistake of glancing down. He was wearing only his kilt, and it did a splendid job of showcasing his long legs, lean hips, and flat stomach, down which a trail of black hair disappeared under his waistband toward his—
Stop it.
With one brawny arm braced against the door frame, his shoulders filled up nearly the entire space. Victoria was now used to living in a house full of tall, broad-shouldered men, but the earl was something entirely different. He always carried himself with a quiet power and dignity, but at the moment he looked almost raw, as if he were a wild Celtic warrior come down from the hills in search of plunder.
The fact that he barely looked civilized was considerably more exciting than she cared to admit.
“Um, what?” Then she winced at her silly response. Instead of gaping up at him like a henwit, she should be slamming the door in his face.
A rogue’s smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Placing his hands around her waist, he walked her backward into the room, then kicked the door shut with his heel.
“A New Year’s Eve kiss, remember?” he said. “You’re supposed to give me one.”
She made a concerted effort to stop acting like a silly girl. “I don’t believe I ever promised to do such a thing, my lord.”
He adopted a thoughtful frown as his hands drifted up her rib cage to come to rest under her breasts. “Are you sure?”
“Quite.”
His eyes smoldered like molten silver. “I think you should give me one anyway. It’s tradition, for good luck.”
Victoria felt her willpower crumbling like the ancient wall at the bottom of the castle garden. “Well, I suppose if it’s tradition . . .”
Besides, she could certainly use a little good luck.
As he started to lower his head, she braced her hands on his chest and unconsciously went up on her toes to meet him. His big hands slid back down to her hips, gently tucking her into the shelter of his body. When they connected, she gasped at the feel of his erection pressing against her belly.
Her shock was swept away as his lips took hers with a passion that robbed her of strength. When she swayed against him, he curled his fingers into her hips, crumpling the fabric of her gown.
His kiss was like a storm roaring down from the craggy heights overlooking Kinglas. Victoria desperately clutched at his shoulders as he ravished her mouth with an intensity she’d never experienced—not even during their sensual interlude in his study, when he’d brought her to a shivering climax in his arms.
When Nicholas nipped her lower lip, she moaned and parted for him. The kiss turned hot and wet, his mouth demanding and greedy as he seduced with dominant, expert kisses. He’d clearly been holding back when he kissed her before. Even that first time, when he was drunk, he’d been gentle, protecting her in spite of his need. Now his kisses said you are mine. This was the laird, the Highland chief, and he was claiming what rightfully belonged to him.
God help her, Victoria wanted to be claimed. For once, she wanted to belong to somebody, to come before all others, body and soul.
And she wanted to claim him, too.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing close to his chest as she whimpered into his mouth. He growled in response, low in his throat like a wolf. Everything inside her quivered at the delicious sound, and she wriggled against him, trying to assuage the ache that had tightened her nipples to hard points.
And assuage the building ache between her legs. Without thinking, she rocked into him, pressing the softest part of her against that incredibly hard part of him.
When Nicholas stilled, Victoria’s eyes flew open and she met his wide gaze. His pupils were dilated, as if he’d been drugged, and there was a flush high on his cheekbones.
They stared at each other, both panting for breath.
“What . . . what’s wrong?” she stammered.
When he didn’t answer, a realization doused her ardor like a cold bucket of water. It was one thing to respond to your presumed fiancé’s kisses with pleasure and approval. It was another thing entirely to lose control and crawl all over him like a tart.
Like my mother would have.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” she gritted out, trying to struggle free. “I cannot imagine what you must think of me.”
While he was also behaving very badly, a respectable woman had no business throwing her principles to the wind. Not even if she was madly in love with the man trying to seduce her. She should have given him a peck on the cheek and sent him on his way.
The earl’s amazing blue gaze warmed with understanding, then he picked her up, turning in an effortless motion to press her against the door. When he crowded close, she didn’t know what was harder—the door at her back or his brawny physique at her front.
He gently cupped her chin. “You are the sweetest, kindest, bonniest lass that ever walked the earth. And nothing you do with me would be wrong or sinful, so get that out of your mind.” His smile was dark and seductive. “Your enthusiasm simply surprised me for a moment—in the best kind of way.”
Embarrassed, she squeezed her eyelids shut. “But we shouldn’t be doing this. We’re not even married.”
“And whose fault is that, may I ask?”
She sighed and opened her eyes. “Mine. But I can’t help feeling that . . .”
He nuzzled her cheek with a soft kiss. Even more than his strength, his tenderness completely undid her.
“Feeling what?” he whispered.
“That I’m not right for you.”
“I do believe I’m the one who’s best able to decide that question.”
She thought of the secrets she carried. “I’m not so sure of that.”
“I am, and I’m happy to show you exactly why.”
When he took her mouth again, she didn’t have the heart to push him away.
His lips wandered across her cheek, then nibbled along her jaw and down her neck. Victoria tilted her head sideways, helpless to do anything but give him what he wanted—what they both wanted. When he clamped his hands around her waist and lifted her up, holding her against the door as he rocked into her, she gasped and clung tight.
“God, lass,” he rasped. “You’ll make me spend before I even get inside you.”
She swallowed, both shocked and excited by his blunt words.
With easy strength, he held her against the door, flexing his hips and nudging his erection against her throbbing sex. Desire rolled over her, making her light-headed. Victoria clamped her hands around his head, kissing him with a fierce intensity. Her emotional and physical need for him was almost visceral, as if she would die if she couldn’t have him.
Vulnerable and frightened almost out of her wits, she hoped Nicholas never stopped kissing her.
A moment later, he froze again.
She opened her eyes. He was frowning, his head tilted away from her.
“Now what?” After finally letting down her guard, she just might murder him if he stopped now.
“Hush, love,” he whispered.
Now she understood. Someone treaded at a stately pace down the hall. It was undoubtedly the butler, making his final rounds.
Nicholas held her securely but her position was less than comfortable, with her shoulder blades wedged against the hard-oak panels and her toes just skimming the floor.
And she was rather precariously perched on the broad head of his erection, which had somehow found its way out from under the folds of his kilt and was now rubbing into the thin silk of her gown. It was an awkward—if stimulating—position that made her feel more than slightly ridiculous. Propped against a door and all but riding on a gentleman’s manly appendage was certainly not where any proper woman should hope to find herself.
Why not?
Victoria firmly brushed aside the question.
The earl’s head was still turned away as he listened to the fading footsteps. She tapped him on the shoulder, and he cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Could you please put me down?” she asked politely.
“Must I?” He nudged her a bit, making her squeak. “I’m quite enjoying this particular position.”
“I’m not,” she said tartly. Well, not entirely, anyway.
“Spoilsport.” He eased her down in a stimulating slide. It took a moment for her to catch her breath.
“I suppose we’d better keep away from the door,” he said in a casual tone. “It was bound to get a bit noisy if we continued along as we were. That would be entirely inappropriate for your first time, anyway.”
Victoria’s mouth sagged open. “You can do that against a door?”
“Love, you can do it against a door, in a chair, in a carriage, or just about anyplace else you can think of.” He grinned. “You can even do it from behind, on your hands and knees. I’ll be happy to demonstrate some of the more adventurous positions once we’ve mastered the basics.”
She of course wondered if he’d done those things with other women. “With my luck, I’d probably get a splinter from the door,” she blurted out.
His eyes gleamed. “Och, lass, I’ll be happy to doctor your pretty arse if that happens.”
She blushed. The conversation had become entirely mortifying.
“I’m sure there will never be the opportunity to do so.” She pushed her tangled hair back over her shoulders. “And now that we’ve fulfilled the demands of tradition and exchanged a New Year’s kiss, thus ensuring good luck, I think we should bid each other good night.”
She did her best to dignify her ridiculous little speech with a quick curtsy.
Nicholas choked out a laugh. “Victoria, that’s just cruel. Especially considering this.” He glanced down at the erection that was tenting his kilt, something she’d been doing her best to ignore.
“Sir, it’s almost two in the morning. The entire house is abed.”
“I’d be happy to put you to bed too, Miss Knight,” he said with a comical wiggle of his eyebrows.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or scold him—or run into his arms and kiss him. She’d rarely felt more confused, poised between pure joy and the fear she was making an awful mistake.
Though Nicholas seemed entirely at ease, his gaze turned serious. “Love, why are you fighting this so hard?”
“I . . . I told you. I want to be sure you’re not making a mistake.”
Sympathy flickered across his handsome face. Or, perhaps it was pity.
She turned and made her way to the fireplace, taking the iron and clumsily poking the logs.
“Give me that, you daft girl,” he said as he came up behind and plucked the tool from her hand. “You’re making a mess.”
Victoria let out an aggrieved sigh. “We can both agree on that.”
He leaned the tool against the marble fireplace surround and then steered her to the high back chair in front of the hearth. Going down in a crouch before her, he clasped her hands.
“Is it your parentage you’re worried about?” he asked. “Because I believe we’ve addressed that.”
“But—”
“It’s not an impediment, and you know it. Now, tell me the real reason you’re feeling so hen-hearted.”
There was a simple, stark reason for his apt description of her worries, and his name was Thomas Fletcher. Nicholas would never blame her for defending herself, but no sensible man would wish to marry a woman with a potential murder charge hanging over her head, especially not a man whose marriage had ended in tragedy and scandal. Although Fletcher’s death wasn’t Victoria’s fault, in the eyes of the ton she would still be considered suspect—if not outright guilty.
Nicholas had already suffered too much for her to make his life more difficult.
But more than anything, she feared losing his respect. She feared seeing the warmth in his gaze fade away, replaced by shock and dismay. He would surely recall all the reasons why she was so unsuited to be his bride.
Then she would lose him forever.
“Victoria?” he prompted gently.
“I . . . I’m no saint, my lord,” she said. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, and I’m nobody’s idea of the perfect woman.”
“That’s good, because I’m far from perfect myself.” He smiled. “I have no interest in marrying a paragon, because I cannot imagine anything more boring.”
“But—”
“Sweetheart, you’re aware that I’ve done things I’m not proud of too. And you’ve not held that against me, have you?”
“Of course not. You were simply trying to survive terrible situations.”
“And when you did those things you weren’t proud of, what were you doing?”
She sighed. “Trying to survive.”
“Exactly. Now, tell me, have you ever intentionally hurt anyone or acted contrarily to your principles?”
“No,” she said, trying to be fair to herself. “Not intentionally.”
“I didn’t think so. Victoria, clearly there are things in your past that trouble you, and I hope someday you’ll tell me about them. But I respect your privacy, and I respect your secrets. How could I not? I’ve kept secrets from you until my blasted family forced them into the open.” He leaned forward and briefly kissed the tip of her nose. “I will not force anything from you, love. I will wait until you’re ready to share them of your own free will.”
His generosity made her feel like an absolute worm, but she couldn’t deny a sneaking feeling of relief.
“Thank you, my lord. I’m . . . I’m very grateful.”
A slight smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “You don’t seem grateful. In fact, as Angus would say, you look as queer as Dick’s hatband.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I do?”
“Yes, but I know just the thing to jolly you out of your bad mood.”
“I’m not . . . never mind.” At the moment her emotions were such a mess that there was no point in trying to explain herself.
With a quiet laugh, he reached behind and extracted something from the waistband of his kilt. When she saw the small jeweler’s box, her heart began to thud.
“Another present, sir?” She forced a smile. “Indeed, it’s not necessary. You’ve already given me so much, including this lovely dress.”
“Which I had to compel you to accept, as I recall,” he said dryly.
“It’s not appropriate for you to purchase my clothing.” They’d had more than one fraught discussion about it, since the earl had insisted on garments appropriate to her status as his future countess. She’d finally agreed to allow him to purchase a few things for her, including the gown for tonight, partly because Edie and Alec had taken his side.
“Then I’ll be happy to divest you of all your clothing, after I give you this,” he said.
When he flipped open the box, she gasped. Nestled in dark red velvet was a flawless pink pearl surrounded by small but perfect diamonds and set on a plain gold band. Simple and elegant, it was the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen.
“Good God, I cannot possibly wear that, my lord.”
“I don’t see why not.” He took her limp hand and slipped it onto her finger.
“Because everyone will think we’re betrothed,” she said in a tight voice, feeling like bursting into tears.
“They already do. Might as well make it official.”
She wavered a moment, and then shook her head. “Lord Arnprior—”
“Nicholas,” he murmured, taking her hand and placing it on his chest. His muscles felt hot and hard under her fingertips, and the pearl shone with an almost mystical gleam. “Or Nick, if you prefer.”
She stared up into his handsome, wonderful face, and her willpower slipped completely away as she tumbled into helpless, hopeless love. She wanted him so much it made her chest ache.
“Wear it for me, at least just for tonight.” He feathered a soft kiss across her lips.
Victoria slid her hands around his neck and went nose to nose with him. “All right, Nicholas.”
His eyes flared bright with triumph, and he rose, pulling her up with him. Sweeping her into his arms, he strode toward the canopied bed.
Tomorrow. I’ll write to Dominic tomorrow. She would tell her mentor in no uncertain terms that she refused to keep secrets any longer.
And then thoughts of anything but Nicholas scattered like flotsam as he plopped her on the bed and braced his fists on either side of her thighs.
“I’m going to make love to you now, Victoria,” he said gruffly. “Is that all right?”
She had to swallow twice before she could answer. “Yes, please. Sir.”
A husky laugh was his only reply as he began to undress her, starting first with her shoes and stockings. In no time at all, he’d stripped them from her body, reaching up under her skirts to quickly work her garters down her legs. She shivered at the feel of his big hands brushing over her skin, sending waves of delicious anticipation rocketing through her body.
Nicholas tossed her stockings and garters in the general direction of the chair.
“My lord, those stockings were very expensive,” she said, shocked by his cavalier attitude.
“I know exactly how much this ensemble cost, lass,” he said wryly. “I paid for it.”
She tentatively stroked his broad shoulders. His hard muscles twitched beneath her fingertips. “And it was very nice of you to do so.”
He tipped up her chin, studying her expression. “Victoria, I want you so much I can barely see straight, but there’s no need to rush this.”
“I am a little nervous,” she confessed.
“Just tell me if there’s anything I do that makes you uncomfortable. All right?”
He looked so serious that she couldn’t help smiling. “That sounds perfect.”
“Good. Now are you ready to get out of that dress?”
She heaved a dramatic sigh. “Yes, although it’s so beautiful that I hate to take it off.”
“I can work around that,” he said with a gleam in his eyes. “Although it might get wrinkled by the time I’m finished.”
“Goodness, that would be dreadful,” she said, pretending to be shocked.
When she reached behind to unfasten her buttons, he brushed her hands away and swiftly undid the buttons before whisking both her chemise and gown over her head.
He certainly wasn’t wasting any time.
When he looked like he was about to fling the garments over his shoulder, she scowled. “Don’t even dare.”
He snorted, then swiped up the stockings from the floor and casually tossed the bundle of clothing onto a chair.
“Happy, now?” he asked.
She had to stifle a smile. “Your courtesy is much appreciated, my lord.”
“What I appreciate is the way you look right now,” he said as his gaze roamed over her body.
She blushed, feeling awkward to be perched on the edge of the bed wearing nothing but her new stays. Unlike her usual undergarments, the front-lacing set was frivolous in the extreme. Embroidered with pink and red flowers, it was trimmed with red silk bows on the straps. Because it was cut so low and close to the body, it did a spectacular job of pushing up her breasts to form plump mounds. Although Victoria had initially been reluctant to wear them, the modiste had claimed the new ball gown wouldn’t fit properly without them.
“I’m glad you approve,” she joked, “because they were ridiculously expensive.”
“And worth every damn shilling. No, don’t take it off. Not yet, anyway.”
She dropped her hands from the laces.
When he tugged on the stays, her breasts popped out even more, exposing her flushed, tight nipples. “Now, that is what I call perfect,” he murmured.
He gently tugged on the sensitive points. Victoria whimpered and grabbed his biceps as sensation streaked through her. Between her legs, she felt a trickle of warmth.
“Does that feel good, darling?” He thumbed her nipples, then rubbed his palms across them, making them throb with a delicious ache. “Do you want more?”
She answered by grabbing his head and pulling him down for a frantic kiss. He huffed out a startled laugh but he obliged her, surging into her mouth with deep, hot glides. Victoria poured all her passion into the torrid kiss.
For so long she’d held back, trying to keep her emotions in check. But now her barriers had crumbled. Nicholas knew she had secrets and knew she had a troubled past. His trust was a strong, bracing wind that swept aside the dusty doubts that had resided in her soul.
For delicious minutes, he seduced her with his mouth while caressing her breasts, teasing her and making her squirm. He’d promised not to rush her, but at this point she was ready to leap out of her skin.
When he gently pinched one of her nipples, she pulled back with a fractured breath. “You are driving me mad.”
“That’s the point, sweetheart.”
He clamped his hands around her waist, tossing her back onto the fluffy pile of pillows at the head of the bed. This was probably the most important moment of her life, but she wanted to laugh out loud or jump to her feet and spin in silly, happy circles until she grew dizzy with joy.
Her desire to laugh faded when Nicholas unwrapped his kilt, exposing his formidable and very naked masculinity to her gaze. To say he was imposing was a massive understatement.
With the emphasis on massive.
Slowly, Victoria came up on her elbows to watch him, her heart banging against her ribs. He was huge and hard, an intimidating sight that should trigger a swoon in any innocent, proper young lady. She was feeling a little light-headed, but certainly not from fright. And she was obviously neither sufficiently innocent nor proper because a naked, aroused Nicholas was the most exciting thing she’d ever seen in her life.
As he moved to the edge of the bed, Victoria fell back against the pillows, her hair tumbling around her breasts and shoulders. His smile was both arrogant and seductive as he climbed up on the mattress.
Nicholas pushed her legs wide, kneeling between her thighs. When he slipped a hand between her thighs, dragging a finger across the tight bud hidden within her curls, she all but rocketed off the bed. In response, he clamped a hand on her hip, gently but ruthlessly holding her down while he massaged her aching sex. Victoria moaned, trying to arch up into his hand as fire poured through her veins. Tiny spasms began to ripple out from her core, and she closed her eyes, falling into the dark, velvety pleasure.
“Open your eyes, Victoria,” he ordered in a husky voice as his hand stilled.
She dragged open her eyelids. “Why did you stop?”
“Because I want you looking at me while I play with you.”
The words gave her a delicious jolt. When he slicked a finger over her bud, as if to reward her, she whimpered.
“That’s it, my darling,” he murmured. “Now, unlace your stays.”
With trembling fingers, she complied. It was a task she’d done thousands of times, but she was clumsy now that he was drowning her in pleasure. He spread her wide as he rubbed and played, even pushing his fingers into the slick entrance of her body. But every time her hands slowed on the laces or her eyes started to close, he paused.
“Now you’re just being mean,” she protested when he brought her right to the edge and then stopped once more.
His only answer was a deep laugh replete with male self-satisfaction.
When she scowled at him, he deftly finished unlacing her, uncovering her completely. She lay before him, restless and wanton. Her breasts were flushed and hard-tipped, aching so much she was tempted to stroke them herself. Firelight burnished her nude body, and the fluffy triangle at the top of her thighs was glistening with her arousal. She could have been a pagan offering laid out for him to devour.
And, at the moment, with his muscled body and his erection long and broad-headed, he looked rather primitive too. Victoria felt weak with longing, trembling for his touch.
“This is how I want you,” he said. “With nothing between us.”
There were still secrets between them, but right now they didn’t matter much at all.
“Please don’t stop,” she whispered.
He loomed over her, taking her mouth in a kiss full of power and possession. She wound her arms around his neck as she sucked his tongue into her mouth. Wriggling down, she pressed her sex against his hard thigh, gasping as sensation arced through her in a delicious pulse that went straight to her womb.
Nicholas groaned. “God, lass, I need to taste you.”
Then he was nibbling and kissing his way down her body. She writhed beneath him as he lingered over her breasts, drawing strongly on her nipples. When she cried out, he moved lower, shifting down to lie between her spread thighs.
When he clamped his hands under her bottom and lifted her to his mouth, Victoria stiffened. Before she could register an objection, he began kissing the most intimate part of her body. Stunned, she went up on her elbows to stare at him.
Nicholas glanced up. His expression was hard but his gaze was diamond-bright. “What?”
She had to clear her throat before she could answer. “You cannot possibly be enjoying that.”
When he slowly and deliberately licked his lips, her jaw dropped.
“I beg to differ, my love. You taste delicious.” His avaricious expression seemed to indicate he was telling the truth.
“Well, then, carry on,” she said inanely.
He laughed before planting a hand on her chest and gently pressing her down to the mattress. Then he returned to his task, lavishing pleasure on her with his mouth and tongue. He held her relentlessly wide as she bucked against the sensations that stormed through her.
When he flicked his tongue over her tight bud then sucked her into his mouth, Victoria cried out. Her back arched off the mattress as she clutched the coverlet in a desperate grip.
After a few moments, she opened her dazed eyes to find Nicholas sitting back on his heels, watching her. His gaze shimmered with unappeased lust.
“Are you ready for me, lass?” he asked in a guttural tone.
All she could do was nod.
He reached down and slipped his hands under her shoulders. Lifting her with easy strength, he positioned her so that she was straddling his thighs.
When he went to guide himself into her, she brushed his hands away. “Let me,” she said.
His gaze flared, and he gave her a tight nod.
Cautiously, Victoria wrapped a hand around his erection. She swallowed, both nervous and excited at the prospect of its intrusion into her body. When she clumsily stroked it, Nicholas hissed out a breath.
“Aye, that’s it, lass,” he growled. He began to massage her bottom. “Now rub yourself against me.”
Tentatively, she shifted closer. When she rubbed the broad head of his erection against her sex, she quietly moaned as sensation again sparked to life in her body.
“You feel amazing, Victoria,” he said through clenched teeth. “Yes, keep doing that.”
She leaned against him, her eyes drifting closed. Nicholas groaned and began kneading her bottom with hard, erotic pressure.
When he suddenly brushed her hands aside and shifted to press into her, Victoria was more than ready. Still, she gasped as the broad head forged past her tight entrance.
“Hold on, love,” he gritted out.
When he flexed his hips, she felt a sharp pinch and a brief, lancing pain. Then he was fully inside her, so deep she could barely catch her breath.
Her eyes popped open. “Good heavens.”
Nicholas tipped up her chin and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Sorry,” he said in a rueful tone. “That’s the worst of it, I promise.”
She nodded, clinging to his arms. He rubbed her back in soothing circles as he gently rocked her against him.
Soon the pain began to fade, replaced by a pleasurable sense of fullness. It seemed almost impossible to fathom that he was actually inside of her.
And it was beginning to feel rather amazing, too.
“All right?” he murmured in her ear.
She kissed his shoulder. “Better than all right.”
His lips parted in a seductive smile. “Excellent. Now, how about this?”
When he flexed his hips, she moaned. “That’s . . . that’s very nice too.”
When he did it again, she clung to his shoulders. The angle of his body, his slow, controlled rhythm, rubbed her both inside and out. She pressed close, relishing the feel of his muscled chest against her aroused nipples, as his strong thighs spread her wide.
With soft, erotic words, he tutored her movements, guiding her up and down his thick length. Victoria let her eyes drift shut and her head drop back, her hair falling like a curtain down her back.
But then he increased the pace, and soon they were moving in a sharp, almost frantic rhythm as passion built between them. Nicholas tipped her chin up, pressing a hot, openmouthed kiss to her lips. And when he clamped a possessive hand on her breast, rubbing her sensitized nipple, Victoria felt herself teetering on the verge of climax.
Suddenly, he reached down and stroked a finger over her aroused bud. Victoria wrenched her mouth from his and cried out. Shudders wracked her body as her inner muscles clenched around his length. Luxurious spasms rippled out from her womb as he surged into her, high and hard. He cursed, then ground into her again, holding her hips tight against him.
Nicholas shook with his release, so deeply inside her that she felt like he’d touched her heart.
When he stopped shaking, he curled his big body protectively around hers. Victoria turned her cheek into his neck, squeezing her eyes shut to hold back tears. His pulse beat hard and steady under her ear as his hands stroked in a soothing rhythm along her spine.
Then he carefully lifted her up. She winced a little as he withdrew, muscles both inside and out and smarting from their passionate encounter. With a soothing murmur, he laid her down on the bed and tucked her close, her cheek to his chest, sheltering her within his brawny embrace.
Victoria drowsed for a bit, feeling entirely warm and contented.
“One last question before you fall asleep, lass,” he murmured after a few minutes.
Since they were nose to nose and she was so tired, it was a struggle to focus on his face. He looked very serious.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Victoria Knight, will you marry me?”
She managed a sleepy smile. “Yes, my lord. I’ll marry you.”
Snuggling closer, she let herself drift into a sublime oblivion.