She smoothed her hand over the violet skirt. “You mean we’re going to get married today?”
“Is that all right with you? I’ve already spoken with the preacher, and he said we could do it whenever we’re ready. But if you need more time, I’ll understand.”
“No,” she answered quickly. “The sooner we do this, the better.”
“Then if you don’t mind, I’ll just take a quick bath and get changed, and then we’ll head over to the church.”
* * * * *
SARAH NERVOUSLY PACEDthe hotel room as Luke got undressed near the tub. Impossible to believe that in less than an hour he would be her husband.
My husband.
She’d schemed and dreamed of this since he’d come after her at the saloon but somehow, Luke’s proposal hadn’t made her as happy as she’d imagined it would. A month ago, she hadn’t minded the thought of marrying a man who didn’t love her, but everything had changed. In the past few weeks, she’d glimpsed what could have been between her and Luke, and she hated settling for anything less.
Luke cared for her. She didn’t doubt that, but he’d made no mention of love. He was marrying her merely to salvage her reputation because of his misplaced notion of guilt and responsibility.
She couldn’t make the mistake of letting herself believe there was anything more to it than that.
Loud splashing told her Luke was getting in the tub, and she tensed even more. Even though she knew he probably didn’t want her to look at him, she couldn’t resist the temptation. Turning, she was met by the sight of Luke’s broad, bare chest glistening with droplets of water. He reclined against the back of the tub, watching her with wariness in those smoky-gray eyes.
He was still so self-conscious about his foot, even after all they’d shared. Damn Christine for doing this to him. “Would you like me to bathe you?”
His eyes flared in passionate response. “I’d love it, sweetheart. But I don’t want you to get your dress wet.”
She smiled and sat down in the chair he’d pulled next to the tub. “I’ll be careful.”
He gave her a grateful glance, then handed her the soap. Leaning forward, elbows on knees, he presented her his back.
She dipped the soap in the water then rubbed his smooth, wet skin, leaving streams of bubbles in her wake.
Luke moaned softly, letting his head fall forward to rest in his hands. “Ahhh, that feels so good.”
Setting the soap aside, she massaged his heavy shoulder muscles, wringing a series of small, appreciative sounds from deep in his throat. It was like stroking a big cat; he practically purred beneath her hands.
Once he seemed relaxed, she asked the question that had been bothering her for days. “Why haven’t you let me stay all night with you? Is it because you didn’t want me to see your foot?”
He stiffened and then nodded, not looking at her. Sighing, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his temple. “I wish you trusted me more. Don’t you know how beautiful you are to me?”
“I believe you. I don’t understand it, and I don’t deserve it, but I do believe you.”
Relief swept through her. Grinning, she handed him the soap. “Then hurry up and finish. We have a wedding to go to.”
She stood up and moved to the window, staring down at the street while she gave him some privacy to maneuver himself out of the tub. A flurry of splashes sounded behind her, and then she heard the soft rustle of clothes and the unmistakable thump of his wooden boot.
“Was that quick enough for you?” he asked moments later.
Before she could answer, he put his arms around her from behind, pulling her back against his warm, slightly damp body. The crisp, clean scent of him filled her senses, making her dizzy with longing. He pressed his lips to her temple. “Everything will be all right, sweetheart. You’ll see.”
He was so solid, so strong despite his lost limb, and she wanted to stay in his arms forever. It felt right. Righter than anything had felt in a very long time. The last of her doubts dissipated.
Luke might not love her, but he cared for her and desired her. Strong, healthy marriages had been built on far less.
“I think you’re right,” she whispered. “I hope you’re right.”
He hugged her tightly before releasing her. “I’m almost ready.”
When she finally turned around, he was fastening his cuff links. He was wearing an elegant black suit, and the color suited him very well with his dark hair and stormy eyes.
“Shall we go?” He smiled at her, that breathtaking smile that displayed his dimples, and her knees went weak. He was truly a beautiful man, both inside and out.
“Yes,” she told him, gathering her courage around her like a shield. “I’m ready.”
