He nodded, then climbed to the seat beside her and flicked the reins. The horses started forward. The intensity of the silence between them added to her already somewhat overwrought state.
“Are we going back to the park with the pond?” she asked in an attempt to break it.
Ian shook his head.
“Are we going to Hyde Park?” She did not think he would do so willingly, but she couldn’t think of where else he might be taking her.
He again shook his head without uttering a word.
Her nerves stretched taut from the events of the past two days, felt ready to explode in the face of Ian’s silence. “Is it too much to expect you to tell me where we are going, then?” Her voice sounded harsh even to her own ears.
“Aye.”
If he expected her to plead for the information, then he would be disappointed. She sat back against the squabs and tried to relax, focusing on the sights and sounds that met her as Ian drove through London. The traffic around them thinned and she realized that Ian was taking her out of the city. He drew the carriage into an inn yard and she expelled her breath. As improper as it might be for an unmarried lady to meet with a gentleman at an inn, she trusted Ian and was not worried.
A boy ran into the yard to help with the horses. Ian swung down and lifted her out of the carriage. The carriage blanket slipped off from around her shoulders and he tucked it more securely against her.
He led the way into the inn and when they entered the private parlor, she realized that Ian had planned their meeting to the smallest detail. Two worn but comfortable-looking chairs sat before a cheerful fire blazing in the grate. She moved nearer the fire and unwound the blanket from her shoulders. She folded it neatly and placed it over the back of one of the chairs before noticing a cold collation on the table between the two chairs.
“How long do you think this discussion is going to take? It looks as if you have prepared for a siege.”
Ian did not laugh at her attempt at humor. “As long as necessary, Belle.” His answer had not reassured her. Ian could tell from the look of worry in her eyes.
He sighed. Evidently, she had not reconciled herself to their future yet. He removed his greatcoat, taking the keepsake box with her ring out of the pocket before laying the coat across the other chair.
Turning away from her, he put the small box down and poured himself a glass of port from the bottle on the table. “Belle, I asked you once to be my wife and live your life with me in my Scottish home.” He turned back to face her and took a sip from his glass of wine. “At the time, you made it clear that you expected to be courted.” He waited for her to acknowledge his words.
She nodded.
“I have courted you.”
“Ian, the courting is but a small part of the picture.” The earnest expression on her face told him she believed what she was saying. “I want an abiding love in my marriage.” Love. He cursed and her eyes widened. “I have proven to you that you are not immune to me, Belle. It should be obvious that I am not immune to you either.” Her gaze flew to his and seemed to ask a question.
“I want you more than I thought possible to want a woman.” Heat stole into her cheeks, but at the look of warmth in her eyes, he knew his words had pleased her. He put his wine down and picked up the ring box. Pulling her into a chair, he knelt on the floor in front of her. “Will you be my wife and share my life with
me, making my days bright with your quick wit and my nights warm with your generous heart?”
She didn’t answer him immediately. He wanted to press her, but knew the time for that was done. He placed the box on her lap and waited for her to answer.
She opened it and gasped when she saw the ring inside. She touched the filigree rose with the tip of her finger. “Do you love me, Ian?” The words sounded torn from her.
He stiffened, but resisted the urge to jump to his feet and put distance between them.
“I care for you and want to be with you. The passion between us is too strong to deny, Belle. Say you will marry me, lass.”
Would it be enough? He did not know. Looking into her face and seeing the sadness there, he wished he could give her the words she wanted to hear. He could not be weakened by love.
She was convinced that love would guarantee happiness; he was living proof that it did not. Jenna had vowed her love for him, but it meant nothing. She married his younger half brother when he ascended to his father’s title. His brother loved him, but that had not stopped him from betraying Ian.
“Will you be faithful?”
The words were barely more than a whisper, but had the effect of a bucket of water from the lochs back home being tossed in his face. His head snapped back as if she had struck him. Did she not ken him better than that?
“Aye. I’ll be faithful.”
She searched his eyes, seeking an answer beyond his words. “You will never take a mistress? Not even for one night?”
Her words conjured up a fury so intense he had to get control before he answered.
The idea of taking any woman to his bed besides Belle was obscene to him now. She questioned his honor by asking again. Did she not understand that?
“You have my word.” He spoke through gritted teeth.
She bit her lower lip. Her gaze dropped to the ring in her lap. “It is beautiful.” Her eyes came back to his face. “The thought of settling for marriage without love frightens me.”
A cold wind blew through his soul. His father had taught him about his duty to the land and its people. His stepfather had taught him about many things, honor the most
important among them. Neither man had taught him about love. The only experience he had with the emotion had left him bitter. Love had caused his own brother to betray him.
He laid his hands over hers. She was trembling. “I canna promise you love, Belle, but I can promise you devotion. I will never take another woman to my bed.”
“But will you want to?”
Words were not going to convince her. Only one thing would show Belle that her fears were unfounded. Passion.
Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers. She remained stiff against him. He coaxed her lips with his own, tenderly kissing her until he felt her body relax. With a soft moan of surrender, her trembling hands stole around his neck. He rejoiced in her response to him. His lips moved more purposely over hers and he slid his tongue across the seam of her mouth, silently demanding that she part her lips for him. She complied and his heart filled with joy as his tongue slipped into the sweet recesses of her mouth.
Her fingers tunneled through his hair and he groaned. She made him forget his motive in kissing her. All he could think about was how much he enjoyed the feel of her tender lips under his and the sensation of her hands in his hair. He leaned completely into her, forcing her back against the chair. His hands moved to cup the sides of her breasts.
She squirmed against him, making erotic noises in the back of her throat.
She broke her lips away from his. “Ian.”
His name was a demand. He smiled. Love was a mystery to him, but this was not. He knew what she wanted and he was more than willing to give it to her. He deftly unbuttoned her pelisse and removed it. The thin muslin of her gown did nothing to hide the points of her erect nipples. Taking one between his thumb and forefinger, he squeezed. At the same time, he covered her mouth with his, swallowing the scream that his touch evoked.
Her legs spread and he pulled her body flush against his own. She moved restlessly against him and he felt his body heat with desire. He wanted her so much he would die of it. His hands locked behind her, holding her body prisoner against him. Breaking the kiss, he panted. “Do you truly believe that as long as I have you in my arms, I will ever want another woman?”
“I don’t know. I don’t understand this, Ian.” She sounded like a bewildered child.
“Ah, but I do.” Once again he sealed her lips with his own. He kissed her until she writhed against him with abandon.
“Ian, you must do something. I cannot stand this.” Carefully, wanting only to prove to her that they did indeed have a physical bond strong enough for marriage, he drew the cap sleeves of her dress down over her shoulders. She groaned. With shaking fingers, he caressed her soft skin. She moaned, her head falling back against the back of the chair.
“Please, Ian. This is too much.” Her broken words only fueled his passion.
“Nay, ’tis not enough, Belle.” He stood up and she protested when he pulled away from her.
“Ian.”
Spreading his great coat on the floor before the fire, he said, “Just a minute, lass.” She stared at him, her eyes clouded with passion. He took off his cravat and waistcoat before pulling her to her feet. His hands shook with desire as he undid the tapes on her gown. She made no protest as he slipped it off of her. She stood before him in a chemise of fine lawn. The dusky points of her breasts tantalized him through the nearly transparent fabric. He almost exploded then and there at the sight of her feminine body exposed to his view.
Reaching out to her, he drew her to the floor beside him.
“Are we going to make love, Ian?”
He couldn’t help smiling. She sounded both curious and passionate. “Nay, but I am going to prove to you that with you in my arms, I will need no other.” She stilled against him. “Truly?”
“Aye, lass, truly.” He went about proving it. Within minutes, he had her so hot she was tearing at his shirt seeking his bare skin.
He didn’t mind at all. He caressed her thighs, teasing her with little circles that drew ever closer to her feminine center. When he finally touched her there, her entire body came off the floor. She would have brought the innkeeper running with her shout if he had not covered her mouth with a passionate kiss. He gently massaged her with his fingers until she convulsed around him.
His breathing was ragged and he wanted to bury himself in her softness so badly that he almost gave into the temptation. He could not do that however. She would be his in name as well when he joined his body with hers in the complete act of making love.
Holding her tightly, he willed his body to relax. “Ian?”
“Hmm?” How she could talk now was a mystery to him.
“You didn’t experience what I did again, did you?” She sounded worried.
“I experienced it with you, Belle. Your pleasure is like taking my own.”
“So, you don’t particularly want me to do this?” He was unprepared for the rush of almost painful pleasure when she rubbed his hardness through his pantaloons.
It felt so good he thought he could die of it. When she started unbuttoning his pants, Ian nearly came undone. “You mustna do that, Belle.” She smiled into his eyes, her face a mask of feminine mystery. “Why not, Ian? You said you needed me and I must assume your need is at least equal to my own. Therefore you cannot convince me that you would be horrified by my bold behavior.” She ruined her confident statement by ending it with a worried frown and stilling her hands in their struggle with his buttons. “Are you?”
He growled. “The only thing I don’t like is how long you are taking to touch me, Belle. You’re teasing me to near death with your hesitancy.” Her smile was like the sun breaking through the gray skies of London. It warmed him and filled his heart with peace. She finished the task of opening his pantaloons. He muffled a shout as she grasped his hard member in her hand. “You are much bigger than I expected. Is this quite normal, Ian?”
Her words and touch sent his senses scattering. He could not form a response to her question. She curled her fingers around him and squeezed. Ian arched away from the floor. “Show me what to do,” she demanded.
He did. When he came, she gave a husky laugh. He kissed her until every last bit of pleasure had been wrung from him. He collapsed on the floor.
Now she would understand that her fears were foundless.
“Will it always be like this?”
He sat up and began buttoning his shirt. “Like what?”
“So…so combustible between us?”
“God willing it will only get better.”
“You mean it can be better?” She sounded doubtful.
“Aye. We have not yet made love, Belle. Our bodies have not joined.” He resumed dressing.
She pulled her dress over her head and turned for him to fasten the tapes. Pulling a small comb from her reticule, she began to straighten her hair.
“Why didn’t we make love, Ian?”
Her question took him by surprise. “I will not dishonor you before we are wed.” She thought about this for awhile. He could see her mind wrestling with his words.
“What we did just now. You don’t think that was the same thing?” He shook his head. “What we did was share pleasure, but when we make love we will join our bodies. We will become one. It is not the same. It is more and it is for marriage.”
She stared at him. “I want to become one with you.” He felt something inside of him expand. Pulling her back into his arms, he asked,
“Does that mean you will marry me?”
“Yes.” She buried her face in his neck and he felt tears against his heated skin.
Pulling away from her gently, he looked into her face.
She smiled tremulously. “It seems I have no choice.” He didn’t like hearing that. He wanted her to choose to marry him, but realized that if she felt trapped by her passion he should be glad. “You will be happy, Belle.” She did not answer.
“Shall we go and let your family wish us happy?” He wanted to kiss her again, but feared he wouldn’t be able to stop with a kiss if he did.
“Now?” She sounded surprised.
“Did you think to wait?” Was she trying to stall him?
“No, it’s just that I can’t see wasting all this food. Besides, I’m a little hungry.” He smiled. “Your passion has made you hungry. Remind me to make sure we have a repast set aside on our wedding night.”
She blushed, but laughed.
The ring box had fallen on the carpet at her feet. He leaned down and retrieved it.
“Come here, lass.”
She did. He lifted her hand and placed the ring on her finger. “Now you belong to me.”
She cocked her head to one side and gazed at him through her lashes. “I see. Does this mean you belong to me as well?”