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He'd told her his feelings. He'd made her say she believed him, because she wanted to believe him so much. But in these moments, she knew no doubts. After all this time, it had come. The relationship that made her pain over the other ones seem ridiculous. That hadn't been heartbreak. Heartbreak was losing someone you truly loved. Someone whose leaving would destroy her.
This was the answer he'd given to her reluctance about the wedding dresses. If she was wrong about him, it would be bad. If she was right, she'd be scared to the core. But when he was holding her now, his face pressed into her throat, her bound body in his arms, she gave her faith to what he'd promised and said it aloud, wondering at it.
"I'm yours, Des," she said.
"Yeah, you are," he said, in that mild way of his that she now knew wasn't mild at all. She dropped her head forward on top of his, inhaled that sunlight smell of him...and let herself be his.
Chapter Ten
After they settled some more, he removed the rope, took off her dress, bra and underwear, and put her in a thick robe. She hoped he hadn't used it for Missive, but all she smelled on it was Des, so she thought he'd brought it with him for her aftercare.
Leaving her curled up on the mat, he packed his ropes in his backpack. She was half-asleep when he bent over her. In addition to his pack, he was carrying a small zippered tote she kept in her room, so he'd packed her an overnight bag. He hadn't asked if it was okay to rummage in her clothes, but it didn't occur to her that he needed to do so. It was an unsettling thought, if she was allowing herself any of those. Which she wasn't. Not tonight.
"Did you pack me a bikini top and a mini-skirt to wear tomorrow?"
"Of course. I'm a practical packer."
"No underwear, I expect."
"Why would you want to burden yourself with so many extra clothes?" He kissed the tip of her nose and gathered her up, lifting her in his arms like a child.
"I'm too heavy. You should let me walk. Where are we going?"
"You're not too heavy, I'll tell you when you need to walk, and my place. Time to show you my hovel, princess. Hush and sleep."
He carried her to his truck and she watched him through the windshield, lost in a pleasant, completely energy-less, no-thinking state, as he locked up the theater and set the alarm. He noticed details like that. Despite his joking, she'd bet money she'd find everything she'd need in her tote in the morning, from toiletry items to a comfortable outfit of a favorite shirt and jeans--with underwear. He might choose a snugger fitting T-shirt, but she wouldn't hold that against him. He was male, after all.
When he climbed into the truck, she was turned on her hip, looking at him. He lifted his arm, and she scooted underneath it to be held in its shelter. She helped him put the vehicle in gear, so he wouldn't have to reach across himself with his driving hand. She stayed where she was as he left the parking lot and drove through the night. She had no clue what time it was, or how far away he lived. It didn't matter. They could drive all night like this for all she cared.
She dozed a bit more, waking when he was making short turns that told her they'd entered a neighborhood. She opened her eyes as he turned onto a gravel driveway. It wound through woods, a peculiar transition since the road they'd been on had been lined with the neat, attractive models of a planned development.
When the trees cleared, she saw a large cottage like the gingerbread house in a fairy tale, with blue-grey wood siding. A small guest house with the same architecture was about a hundred yards to the left. Beyond the house and guest house was a barn. She saw the silhouettes of two horses in the open door and the flash of a curious large eye when his headlights passed over the stalls.
"The bigger house is Betty's, my landlady," Des said. He'd realized she was awake, but his low tone let her stay in her dreamlike state. "The horses are hers. You'll like them. One's a big flashy guy, and she used to show him. The other is a little palomino mare with some attitude. I take care of them when she has long shifts. She's a nurse at the hospital."
After helping her shift back toward the passenger seat, he left the truck and came around to open her door.
"I feel like Hansel or Gretel," she observed. "What a magical house to find in the middle of a suburb."
"This place predated the development, and fortunately the previous owners never sold it for subdivision." He stroked her cheek, and she felt absurdly pleased at his obvious enchantment with her sleepy and disheveled state. "Betty may have a touch of witch in her, but she prefers to bake cookies instead of children. She makes some great oatmeal raisin ones. Come on."
Des helped her slide out, and put an arm around her, holding her tote and his pack in the other hand. "Do you want to say hi to the horses before we go in?"
"I'm wearing a robe and no shoes. Yes."
Smiling at the conflicting messages, he put their things on the hood and picked her up, carrying her down the path to the barn. No man had ever carried her this much, and she'd dated a couple men much more physically intimidatin
g than him. Yet she felt secure in his hold and liked the sensation more than she'd expected.
Though the path wasn't well lit, his stride was sure, familiar with the terrain. "Miss Thing," he called out softly. "Come talk to us. We won't wake up Mr. All That," he told Julie. "He likes his beauty sleep and can get a bit nippy when woken up before morning, but Miss Thing is a night owl like me."
He let her feet down outside the open stall door. Julie heard a whicker from the shadows and drew back, startled, as a gold and white head emerged in front of her. However, the liquid brown eyes blinked at her so compellingly she overcame her initial trepidation and petted the horse's forelock and muscled neck. "Oh, she's wonderful."
"Have you ever petted a horse before?" Des had noted her hesitation.
"Rarely," she admitted. "Cop horses in New York, the occasional carriage horse at Christmas. That kind of thing. Never ridden one."
"We'll have to fix that. Miss Thing is a gentle lady."
