Married By Midnight(44)

The dinner gong rang just then to signal it was time to dress.

“You had better go,” she said, “before my maid walks through that door and swoons when she discovers I have a man in my bed.”

He began to quickly fasten his trousers. “I thought we might have more time. I’m not ready to go yet.”

Determined to spin a lighter mood on the moment, she sat up and said, “That is rather presumptuous, sir. Perhaps I am fully satisfied.”

He sat up as well and stared at her intently. “Are you? Are you truly satisfied?”

Anne found she could not tell a lie. Not to Garrett. “No. I still want more.”

He kissed her deeply, then drew back and cupped her cheek in his hand. “Can I come to you again tonight?”

She should tell him no. She should not be so available. She should make him work harder to win her affections. But in the end, none of that reached her lips, for she could not bear to waste a single moment with him. She wanted to make the most of these last few days and remember them forever.

“Yes, please come to me,” she said. “I will wait up for you.”

He kissed her briefly, then rose from the bed and quickly left her chamber. Two minutes later, her maid arrived to help her dress for dinner.





* * *





Garrett walked into his bedchamber, shut the door and tugged at his neck cloth, which felt excessively tight.

Tossing it onto the bed, he breathed deeply and grabbed hold of the thick bedpost. He shut his eyes.

Her touch...her lips...her body...her mind. His desire for her was unfathomable. He had not expected any of this when he returned home to secure his inheritance. He had not expected to feel such compassion for the father who had always treated him with disdain, like a street urchin. Nor had he expected to discover that his true father by blood was a brilliant physician and still devoted to his mother after a lifetime spent apart.

Most of all, he had not expected to fall in love with the woman his brothers had selected for him. He’d thought it would be a contractual agreement, nothing more. But he realized he had fallen completely, absolutely, head over heels in love, and felt like a foolish, heartsick schoolboy.

What would happen if he declared his affections and suggested they continue with the charade until their passion ran its course? She was resistant in so many ways. Would he frighten her off? It was difficult to say.

She cared for him. She was attracted to him. There was no doubt about that. Their lovemaking was like an exploding powder keg.

But what about the contract? Where would he draw the line? He hadn’t agreed to this charade because he wanted a real marriage, but after listening to his mother talk about the lost love of her life, he found himself imagining a similar fate—his own future without Anne—and that was a difficult spoonful to swallow. He simply wasn’t ready to walk away from her.

Perhaps there was hope for him yet. Perhaps this was a sign? There had to be a reason why she’d entered his life now, of all times—when he hadn’t been able to escape the constant sickening sense that he was back with his boat, gasping for air, sinking to the bottom of the sea.

Had God truly sent him a Christmas angel to pull him up to the surface?

Perhaps there was some other purpose he was meant to serve.

Feeling eager and cautiously hopeful for the first time in his life, Garrett rang for his valet and quickly dressed for dinner.





Chapter Thirteen





Anne quivered with ecstasy a few nights later as Garrett rolled off her and lay on his back beside her, still clasping her hand tenderly.

On this particular night, he had come to her bedchamber almost immediately after dinner, and they tore at each other’s clothes until they were naked and writhing passionately on the bed—which all happened in a matter of minutes.

There had been nothing hurried about it once they lay together in each other’s arms. The foreplay was impressive and wonderfully pleasurable, with teasing hands, roving tongues and hungry mouths. By the time Garrett climaxed inside her—again without any protection against a pregnancy—she experienced her third orgasm of the day and began to wonder if she had died and gone to heaven.

“How is this possible?” she asked, panting from the exertion of their lovemaking. “You make me forget what day it is. I’m not even sure I can remember my name. My brain has turned to mush.”

He, too, was working to catch his breath. “I thought dinner would never end. All I could think about was how long it would take me to unbutton your gown.”

She chuckled softly. “You must have been practicing in your head because you were faster than a bullet.”

He turned his head on the pillow to look at her. “But the rest wasn’t too fast, I hope. I’ve been selfish with you these past few days. I wanted to take my time tonight.”