Married By Midnight(33)

He removed her hand from his face and set it away from him. “I’ve gone over every detail and there were a dozen things I could have done differently that might have changed the outcome. I could have stayed in bed that day, for one. I could have turned the boat around after dinner instead of staying out to watch the sunset. Or I could have drowned with the others instead of saving myself by grabbing hold of the life ring.”

He saw the frown in her eyes and wondered if she would change her mind about marrying him. He wouldn’t blame her if she did.

“Everyone else was down below,” he explained, “trying to stay dry. “I was the only one up on deck. When the boat flipped over, they were trapped inside. I tried to help them when we were going down, but I couldn’t get to them.”

Except for the boy. Johnny. He had held onto his hand for as long as he could...

Garrett suddenly wished he hadn’t come here tonight. He’d wanted to escape the accident, not revisit it. Was it too much to ask to spend a few blissful hours in the arms of an angel?

“I think you should tell your family,” Anne said. “They should know.”

He shook his head. “I just want to leave it be. I shouldn’t have told you. I don’t know why I did.”

He slid across the bed and reached for his robe, pulled it on and stood up.

“Wait, don’t go.” Anne climbed out the other side and rushed around the foot of the bed to meet him. She took hold of his hands. “We don’t have to talk about that, and I promise I won’t say anything to anyone. Please, just stay.”

Her arms slid around his waist. She stepped into his embrace and rested her cheek on his chest.

Not a good idea, yet he found himself cupping the back of her head and holding her tight against him. He could feel the lush pressure of her breasts; her hair was like silk.

Desire burned through him and then the last thing he wanted to do, was talk. Or leave. He wanted only to hold her, taste her, satisfy this raging sexual arousal that had been plaguing him since the first moment he saw her.

Before he could think to resist, he pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply as he lifted her onto the bed.

His angel lay back before him. She blinked up at him with desire while he ripped off his robe and tossed it to the floor.

“If you don’t want me to make love to you,” he said, “you must tell me now.”

She inched across the mattress to make room for him. “We’ll be married anyway. I’m tired of fighting this.”

“Is that a yes?”

She hesitated. “I think so.”

Garrett’s eyes narrowed while he paused at the edge of the bed. “I need a firmer answer than that, Anne. Otherwise, I should leave.”

Seconds of painful, agonizing anticipation ticked by while she considered it. “I’m...nervous.”

Garrett quickly reined in his passions. He took a few deep, calming breaths. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll stop if you ask me to. At any time, I promise. I just want to be with you.”

Anne gazed up at him with uncertainty.





* * *





There it was... His need for her was more than sexual.

Anne swallowed uneasily while her mind whirled in confusion. She wanted him with mad fury, wanted to feel his hands on her body, wanted to give herself over to him completely.

But why? Was it purely wanton lust, or was it something more? He was obviously tormented by guilt and needed an escape. She understood that.

He needed pleasure to help him forget, and she wanted to be there for him.

But no, no, she was not that altruistic. As she watched his chest heave with barely controlled desire, she knew that, above all, this was lust. Dirty, greedy, hungry lust.

Responding to a wild flash of yearning, she rose up on her knees and began to tug at his nightshirt, lifted it over his head, tossed it onto the floor.

He now stood naked before her in the warm, golden glow of the firelight, and she stared at him with longing.

“You have your answer,” she said, admiring his smooth muscled chest, running her hands over his arms and shoulders, down to his slender torso and hips. “I want you to stay.”

His mouth covered hers in a violent kiss of unrestrained passion. Then he came down upon her—his hand cradling her head, his nude body gloriously hot and heavy, pulsing against her, pressing her into the mattress.

She let out a tiny, breathless moan as he unbuttoned the collar of her nightdress and kissed the tops of her breasts. Their mouths collided in another violent surge of hunger and desire as he tugged roughly at her hem to gain better access to her thighs and hips and all the magic in between.

“Take this off.” His voice was low and fierce.