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“Tell me,” she said into the silence. “Have you got a girlfriend back home in America? A wife, even?”
For several heartbeats he didn’t answer, then he sighed softly. “Thieving was a job, not a philosophy.”
She looked up at him. “What has that got to do with the question at hand?”
“Everything.” He grabbed her waist and somehow reversed their positions. For several seconds, his gaze searched hers, then he smiled a warm, loving smile that sang through her soul.
“If I make a commitment to someone, I honor that commitment.” He cupped her cheek, caressing her lips with his thumb. She didn’t move—couldn’t move, pinned by the emotion in his eyes as much as the weight of his body. “I’ve had girlfriends, yes, but the emphasis should be placed on ‘friends.’ I have never felt the need to take it any further. But after so many years of disbelief and denial, I have discovered I am my father’s son after all.”
His words confused and, in some sense, frightened her. She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You need to know where I stand, and I guess I understand that.” He hesitated, and the sudden seriousness in his eyes made her breath catch in her throat.
Don’t say any more, she wanted to say. I’m just not ready to hear any more. But the words refused to come out, and all she could do was stare at him, an odd mix of yearning and trepidation filling her.
“I have never said this to anyone else. Before now, before I met you, I thought I never would.” He hesitated again, and she felt her mouth go dry.
“Marry me,” he added softly.
FOR SEVERAL SECONDS KIRBY SIMPLY STARED AT HIM. Part of her ached to say yes—to grab hold of him while she could and never let him go. But the other half, the part so afraid to trust, stepped back, unable to believe that any emotional commitment made in the midst of danger could be real and lasting. They didn’t know each other, damn it! How could he possibly ask such a question after being with her for little more than forty-eight hours?
“Remember my father and grandfather,” he said, a smile touching his full lips. “Forty-eight hours is a lifetime compared to them.”
“I can’t—” Her voice came out as little more than a harsh whisper. She hesitated, swallowing to ease the ache in her throat. “I can’t give you an answer. Not now. Not until I’m sure.” Sure that she had a future to consider. Sure that what she was feeling was real, and not just a side effect of the situation she found herself in.
“I know. And I don’t really expect one. Not now. Not even in the next few weeks or months.”
He brushed a kiss across her lips, and warmth shivered through her soul. If this wasn’t love, then what the hell was it? She closed her eyes, battling tears. He continued softly, “But you needed to know what I planned, and now you do. I may have to go back home when all this is finished, but it won’t be for long. I intend to come back, and I intend to make you part of my life, no matter how long that takes.”
“But what about your work? Surely that’s more important.”
“Work can wait. I don’t care.”
“But—”
“Hush.” He kissed her again, deeper and longer than before.
Longing surged through her, mingling with need.
When he finally pulled away from the kiss, he said, “Worry about the details later. For now, just concentrate on the only question that matters—do you love me? Once you answer that, everything else will fall into place.”
“Nothing is that simple,” she murmured, wishing that it were.
“I’ll make it that simple.” He caressed her cheek, gently thumbing away a tear. “Just tell me yes or no.”
She closed her eyes. “What if I say no?”
He went still, but pain surged between them, so deep and stark that tears stung her eyes. He obviously feared this might be her answer, despite everything.
“If you say no, then I’ll accept that and walk away.”
The thought tore at her. While she wasn’t sure of her feelings, she was sure of one thing. She couldn’t let him walk away. Not yet. Maybe not ever. “I just need time,” she repeated softly, more to calm her own fears than his.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and stared into his beautiful eyes. The sheer depth of love and understanding she saw there chased a shiver through her soul. She still wasn’t sure if she was even capable of understanding such depths, let alone of returning them. Right now, she didn’t even want to think about it. After all, the witch was still out there, and tonight might be all the time they had left together. “So, while I decide whether I’m a coward or not, what are we going to do?”
He raised an eyebrow and glanced at his watch. “We have two hours before we have to prepare for the ceremony. We could go eat those strawberries I prepared.” He hesitated, shifting slightly, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Or we could lie here and talk a bit more.”
He slid inside her, hot and hard. She raised an eyebrow, amazed that he could be ready again so soon—and amazed that she could be. “Talking suits me just fine,” she murmured, wrapping her legs around his so that he couldn’t escape.
