Raising her skirts, Jess climbed up the side of the hill. Her boots slipped occasionally in the rain-soaked soil, but Alistair was behind her and she knew he would grab hold of her if she fell. He was always catching her, always urging her to take great leaps with the security of knowing he waited with arms outstretched.
“There,” he said, drawing her attention to a gazebo set in a clearing to the left of where they ascended. The structure was immediately recognizable—it was a miniature replica of the one on the Pennington estate, with the addition of netting around the back and sides. In the center, a low dais supported a wealth of blankets and pillows.
She turned, facing Alistair as he joined her. From this vantage, they had impressive views of the sugarcane fields below and the ocean in the distance.
He drew abreast of her. “Have you seen the cane fields burning?”
“No.”
“We’ll remedy that when the time comes. I will take you to a vantage downwind of the smoke and stench. For all the danger and destruction, it is a sight not to be missed.”
“I can’t wait to see it with you.” She looked at him, admiring his proud profile. “I want to see everything with you.”
His returning look was fierce and heated.
She moved toward the gazebo. “This is what has been occupying you during the day?”
He’d started coming to her at night with small cuts on his hands and the occasional darkening of a faint bruise on his forearms. No matter how she tried to wheedle the cause out of him, he resisted—although he did encourage her to use every means at her disposal to convince him to be forthcoming …
“Do you like it?” he asked, studying her reaction.
“I’m flattered to have such effort expended to seduce me.” Her mouth curved on one side. “I also see that whenever my courses run, you burn with restless energy. I do believe you require sex more than food and water.”
“Only with you.” He moved under the roof and set down the basket he’d carried up with them. “And you know why. When I’m inside you I know you won’t be getting away. I know you don’t want to.”
She turned her back to the view and faced him, the most wonderful view of all. “What if you could claim the outside of me as well? With your name as my own and your ring on my finger. Would that calm you?”
Alistair grew painfully still. He did not even blink. “Beg your pardon?”
“Are you frightened now?” she asked softly.
“Afraid I’m dreaming.” He broke his stillness to move toward her.
“I’ve already told you I love you. Many, many times. Every day, actually.” She exhaled in a rush, fighting for courage. She couldn’t restrain her affection; it was too big to contain, swelling her chest and making it hard to catch her breath. “I love you enough to walk away if there is any possibility you might desire to be a father someday.”
His throat worked on a hard swallow. “There are a great many foundlings, if we want children to spoil.”
Her heartbeat quickened with hope.
He held out his hand. She placed hers within his and allowed him to lead her to the dais. He urged her to sit and she did. Then, he sank to one knee in front of her.
Understanding dawned. “Alistair.”
“You weren’t supposed to beat me to it, Jess,” he said with tender gruffness, reaching into the tiny pocket of his waistcoat. He wore no coat, no cravat. Scandalous and completely unacceptable, but who would see them up here? That had been the most difficult part of the past week—acting as if they were no more than acquaintances in public when they were searingly intimate in private.
It was the worst sort of torture watching the local debutantes, widows, and even some of the married women paying him elaborate, fawning attention. She’d had to suffer through watching those who claimed him as a dance partner or an escort into dining rooms. She had watched pretty young girls flirt with him, girls capable of giving him the family he’d never truly had and that she could never give him.
Alistair encouraged none of them, his gaze finding her in quiet moments and revealing his ferocious hunger. She tried not to seek him out, knowing her face would betray how smitten and besotted she was. How desperately in love she’d fallen. How bleak and lifeless her existence would be without him.
The truth of it was that he managed the public side of their relationship much better than she did. As proprietary as he felt about her private self, he wasn’t possessive of her public face. Instead, he seemed to relish watching her swim the social waters, admiring the ease with which she managed the necessary interactions—the discourse, the dancing, and all the rest. He was proud of her, content to watch her shine in her element, which made all the pain and sorrow she’d experienced to become so consummate seem worthwhile.
He withdrew a ring. A thick gold circlet topped with an ostentatious ruby as big as her knuckle. The brilliant blood-red stone was a pillowed square surrounded by diamonds, boldly proclaiming the worth of the man who’d purchased it. The gem was almost vulgar in its size and purity of clarity, which made her smile. If her marriage to Alistair wasn’t enough to show the world she’d changed, the ring would certainly manage the task.
“Yes,” he murmured, sliding the ruby onto her finger. “I will marry you. As soon as possible. By the end of the week if we can manage it.”
“No.” She cupped his face in her hands, her fingers brushing his inky hair back from his forehead. “We’ll do this properly. In England. With the banns read and endless celebrations and our families in attendance. I want the world—and most especially you—to know that I do this after a great deal of thought and careful consideration. I know what I do, Alistair. I know what I want.”
“I would prefer to be wed before we return.”
“I won’t leave you,” she vowed, knowing his concern.
“You can’t. I won’t let you.” He caught her wrists with a gentle, yet unyielding grip. “But there will be women who … at routs and luncheons … they’ll know—”
“—Lucius,” she interjected. “They do not know you, not as I do. And they never will.”
Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his furrowed brow. “My darling. You haven’t faith that anyone can love you unconditionally, because no one ever has. But I do. How could I help myself? And over time, you’ll see that the changes you wrought in me are not reversible. I am who I am at this moment because of you, and without you I would cease to exist. I have no notion how I’ll survive the next few months until you can join me in—”
“Join you?” he asked sharply. “Where?”
“A letter from Hester arrived this afternoon. She must have sent it directly after we left, perhaps even the same day, which tells me she knew she was increasing before I departed and didn’t want the news to stay me.”
“Your sister is with child?”
“I cannot believe she could ever think I wouldn’t return to her posthaste. As I told you, she hasn’t been well for some time. She will need looking after. I must be with her now.”
“I’ll return with you, of course. With luck, I can arrange for us to sail within a fortnight.”
“I cannot ask that of you. You came to the island for a reason.”
“Yes. You. The same reason I returned to England. I traveled with you because there was no reason to stay there while you were here, and the same is true in reverse.”
Jess’s thoughts froze with surprise, remembering the night they’d spoken on the deck of the Acheron and she had wondered if he was going home for a woman. To learn she was that woman was slightly overwhelming. And deeply moving.
He must have seen the realization on her face. His jaw tensed. “My lust was fierce, you know that. I won’t say it was love, but it was deeper than flesh. My desire for you gave me hope that I could find joy in sex again, that I could approach the act with something beyond detachment and a need for base physical release. I had to have you, Jess, whatever the cost or effort.”
She stared at him, wondering why he wouldn’t say he loved her. Perhaps he didn’t. Perhaps he couldn’t. Perhaps what they had was all she would ever claim from him.
After a moment’s contemplation, she decided that whatever he could give of himself was enough. She loved him enough for the two of them.
Releasing him, she pulled away and reclined. She stretched out on the pillows, reaching her arms above her head and arching her back in blatant invitation. If his need was the only part of himself he had to give her, she would take it all.
Alistair crawled onto the dais. He straddled her, his hands pressing into the pillows on either side of her shoulders. Lowering his head, he took her mouth, his lips sealing to hers.
A warm, humid breeze blew over them. In the distance, she heard the shouts of men and the distant screeching of gulls. They were outside, where anyone could see, and that increased her excitement. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hummed her pleasure into his kiss.
“I thought,” he murmured against her parted lips, “that I might have to convince you to wed me. That it might take some time. Weeks. Months. Maybe years. I built this place to make it hard for you to run while I presented my arguments.”
She smiled. “A captive audience. How would you have stopped me from leaving?”
“Perhaps hiding your clothes and keeping you pinned with my cock. I also brought a few bottles of your favorite claret with me. I remember your being much more agreeable after a glass or two.”
“Wicked man.” Her gaze lowered to his throat and the strong pulse beating there. “Do your worst. I rescind my acceptance.”
“Ah, but you didn’t accept. You asked; I accepted.” He nuzzled the tip of his nose against hers. “And I cannot tell you what it means to me that you did.”
“You can show me.” Her fingers stroked his nape in just the way he loved.
Alistair slid to the side of her. “Roll over.”