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He didn’t constantly check on her; his pride refused to let him do that to either her or himself, but the need, the anxiety, was always there.
On Wednesday she hadn’t gone with him. He’d called the Jaguar dealership and had a new car sent over, and she had stayed there to accept it. The salesman had called his cell phone to let him know delivery had been made, but Dante had expected Lorna to also call and let him know. She hadn’t. Since he had also had her own car—a dinged-up, slightly rusty red Corolla—delivered that morning, he’d been acutely aware that she was free, she had wheels, and she had cash in her pocket. If she wanted to leave, he couldn’t stop her. He’d given his word.
He’d wanted to call, just to reassure himself that she was still there, but he hadn’t. She could walk out as soon as the call ended, so talking to her at any given time was useless. The only thing he could do, would do, was hope. And pray.
He hadn’t cut his work short. No matter what happened, whether she stayed or left, the work had to be done. Consequently, it was almost sunset when he drove up to see her car still parked in his garage, with his brand-new Jaguar sitting outside, exposed to the sun and blowing grit. As he’d zoomed the Lotus into its slot, all he’d been aware of was a relief so intense that he’d almost been weak with it. Let the Jaguar sit out; seeing her Corolla still there was worth more to him than any car, no matter how expensive.
She’d met him at the kitchen door, wearing a pair of cutoffs and one of his silk shirts, a scowl on her face. “It’s eight-thirty. I’m starving. Do you work this late on a regular basis? Got any idea what we’re going to do for dinner?”
He’d laughed and pounced, and showed her exactly what he wanted to eat for dinner. She hadn’t said another word about food until after ten.
On Thursday, she’d gone to the hotel with him. Work was continuing at a frantic pace. He’d gotten the okay to bulldoze the charred ruins of the casino so he could begin rebuilding, and things were so hectic he’d actually delegated some authority to her, because he couldn’t be in two places at once. On a perverse level, he’d enjoyed watching her give orders to Al Franklin. Al, being Al, was sanguine about everything, but Lorna got a great deal of satisfaction from the arrangement, and he’d got a great deal of enjoyment from her satisfaction.
At lunch, they’d gone to his suite and lit candles. Twice.
On Friday, she didn’t go with him, and he’d sweated through that day, too. When he got home, his relief at seeing her car still there had been as acute as it had been on Wednesday, and that was when he faced the truth.
He loved her. This wasn’t just sex, just a brief affair, or just anything. It was the real deal. He loved her courage, her gallantry, her grumpiness. He loved the snarky comments, the stubbornness and the vulnerability she hated for anyone to see.
Gideon would laugh his ass off when he found out, not just bec
ause Dante had fallen so far, but out of sheer relief that at long last, and if the angels smiled, he might soon lose his position as heir apparent.
The bottom dropped out of Dante’s stomach and his gut clenched. Last night he’d been rolling on a condom when abruptly he knew that he didn’t want to wear protection. Lorna had been watching him, waiting, and she’d noticed his long hesitation. Finally, without a word, he’d pulled off the condom and tossed it aside, then steadily met her gaze. If she wanted him to put on another one, he would; the choice was hers.
She had reached out and pulled him down and into her. Just remembering the intense half hour that had followed turned him on so much that the candle beside the bed flared to life.
Today was the solstice, and he felt as if he could set the world on fire, as if his skin would burst from all the power boiling inside him. He wanted to pull her under him and ride her until he was completely empty, until she had taken everything he had to give. First, though, they had to have a very serious talk. Last night they’d done something that was too important for them to let drift along.
As he sat down on the edge of the bed, he extinguished the candle, because a candle that was already lit was useless as a barometer of his control. This conversation might be emotionally charged, so he would have to be very careful.
He slid his hand under the sheet and touched her bare thigh. “Lorna. Wake up.”
He felt her tense, as always; then she relaxed, and one sleepy hazel eye blinked open and glared at him over the edge of the sheet. “Why? It’s Sunday, the day of rest. I’m resting. Go away.”
He tugged the sheet down. “Wake up. Breakfast is ready.”
“It is not. You’re lying. You’ve been on the balcony.” She grabbed the sheet and pulled it over her head.
“How do you know that, if you’ve been asleep?”
“I didn’t say I was sleeping, I said I was resting.”
“Eating isn’t considered work. Come on. I have fresh orange juice, coffee, the bagels are already toasted, and the sunrise is great.”
“To you, maybe, but it’s five-thirty on Sunday morning, and I don’t want to eat breakfast this early. I want one day a week when you don’t drag me out of bed at the crack of dark-thirty.”
“Next Sunday you can sleep, I promise.” Rather than fight her for custody of the sheet, he slid his hand under the covers, found her thigh again and swiftly reached upward to pinch her ass.
She squeaked and bolted out of bed, rubbing her backside. “Payback will be hell,” she warned, as she pushed her disheveled hair out of her face and stalked off to the bathroom.
He imagined it would be. Dante grinned as he returned to the balcony.
She came out five minutes later, wrapped in his thick robe and still scowling. She wasn’t wearing anything under the robe, so he enjoyed glimpses as she plopped into a chair across from him. It also gaped at the neck, revealing the gold chain from which hung the protection charm he’d given her on Wednesday night. He’d made it specifically for her, out here on the balcony, and let her watch. She’d been enthralled at the way he cupped the charm and held it up so his breath warmed it as he murmured a few words in Gaelic. The charm had taken on a gentle green glow that quickly faded. When he slipped the chain over her head she had fingered the charm, looking as if she might cry. She hadn’t taken it off since.
As grumpy as she was when she first woke, she didn’t stay that way for long. By the time she’d had her second bite of bagel she was looking much more cheerful. Still, he waited until she’d finished the bagel and her juice glass was empty before he said, “Will you marry me?”
She had much the same reaction as when he’d mentioned a baby. She paled, then turned red, then jumped out of her chair and went to stand at the railing with her back to him. Dante knew a lot about women, but more specifically, he knew Lorna, so he didn’t leave her standing there alone. He caged her with his arms, putting his hands on top of hers on the railing, not holding her tightly but giving her his warmth. “Is the question that hard to answer?”
