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“As am I.” Courtney grew sober. “So in love I could never leave you, even if you sent me away.”
His eyes darkened. “God help me, I don’t have the strength to send you away.”
“That wouldn’t be strength; ’twould be stupidity.”
“With regard to my future,” Slayde qualified, voicing his fears aloud. “But what about yours?”
“My future is with you. Regardless of what that entails.”
Slayde groaned, pressing his forehead to hers. “I want that so desperately, it terrifies me. Because I have no right. No right to feel what I’m feeling, want what I’m wanting. But, God, how I need you. I, who have never needed anyone in my life. I need you to fill my life, to fill me—in all the ways I never knew I was empty.” An abrupt swallow. “When I went so berserk just now, it was because I was frantic, frantic to meld us into one, to merge all of you with all of me. Frantic to give you—” He broke off.
“Your child,” Courtney finished softly, tears glistening on her lashes as she gazed into Slayde’s tormented eyes. “I was just as frantic—to conceive your child, to carry it, to bear it.” She gave him a watery smile. “I want all your children. An estate full of Huntleys with spirit and fire and strength. Oh, Slayde, how could babes born of our love be anything but blessings?”
His resolve was shattering, and he knew it. Or perhaps it had shattered the moment he’d pulled Courtney from that sack, held her while she cried, bared all his scars for her to see. She was indeed a miracle—a miracle who deserved a life, not of fear and isolation, but of freedom and security. Damn it, why couldn’t he offer her that?
“Courtney.” His grip tightened, holding her to him as if to negate the potential outcome of his words. “There’s so much I can’t give you.”
“You, my darling, have given me all I’ve ever dreamed of,” she countered, her expression so beautiful and earnest Slayde wanted to enfold her in his arms and never let her go. “You’ve given me passion and tenderness. You’ve given me comfort, love—a piece of heaven.” She glanced down, slipping her palm between them to lay it against her abdomen. “And who knows? Perhaps you’ve given me something more than either of us can yet discern.”
Slayde’s gut wrenched with the impact of her words. “I love you,” he said fervently. “But I’m so bloody afraid…for you, our children…”
Courtney kissed the damp column of his throat. “I know you are. And I refuse to permit it. So I’ve taken steps to relegate that fear to the past—along with the events that incited it.”
“What?” Slayde’s question vibrated against her lips. She felt him tense, draw back. “Courtney—” He gripped her arms. “What steps?”
Filled with a sense of rightness that not even Slayde’s tone could dispel, she replied, “You already know about my visit to Morland, although you misconstrued its purpose. I wasn’t trying to goad Morland into revealing the name of Armon’s accomplice, though I would have welcomed the information had he provided it. What I hoped to do—what I might very well have succeeded in doing—is frighten him enough to give himself away, to prove, once and for all, that his family was responsible for your parents’ murders. What you don’t know,” she pushed on, determined to tell Slayde everything, “is that I also loaned the three ransom notes you received, plus a forged letter allegedly written by you, to the Times. In turn, the Times, through its vast number of copies, will soon notify everyone that the black diamond is no longer in the Huntleys’ possession.” Courtney smiled at Slayde’s stunned expression. “There. I’ve spoken my piece.”
“Well, I haven’t spoken mine,” Slayde retorted in amazement. “You did what? When?” His mind was racing, absorbing the implications of her revelation. “How did you manage this?” A scowl. “I needn’t ask with whom.”
“No, you needn’t. Aurora was the most splendid of accomplices. I composed the letter. She penned it. She copies your hand and signature beautifully. And I did a fine job of explaining how you traded the stone for her life. Our parcel should be arriving in London late tomorrow. Thus, in a matter of days, all those seeking the black diamond will know to seek it elsewhere—putting an end to your worries over our safety and the safety of all future Huntleys.” Courtney leaned forward, pressed her lips to Slayde’s chest, nuzzling his warm skin, trailing her tongue over the hair-roughened contours.
His muscles tightened at her touch. “You did all this…for me?”
“No, I did all this for us.”
A hard swallow. “But as we know, the diamond is still—” Slayde’s breath expelled in a hiss when Courtney lapped at his nipple.
“We know that,” Courtney concurred, reveling in his utter masculinity, his involuntary response to her as he throbbed and hardened, filling and awakening her body, causing it to soften, melt around him. “But no one else does.” She pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down his chest, then up again, giving the other nipple the same attention she had the first. “You’ve spent far too much time dwelling on the truth and not enough time thinking up a diversion. I merely provided one for you.”
“Oh, you’re quite a diversion,” Slayde assured her thickly. His fingers curved around her nape, tugging her head back until he could bury his lips in hers. “The full impact of all this has yet to sink in. Once it does, I’ll have a hundred questions—all of which I intend for you to answer.” His hands slid down to her bottom, lifting her and melding their loins in one unyielding motion. “Later.” He groaned as she wrapped her legs around him, arched to take him deeper. “Much later.”
They made love all night, hungrily at first, then, slowly, deeply—murmuring to each other in heated fragments, exploring the dizzying rapture their joined bodies made, discovering all the facets of the miracle that was theirs.
The culmination of that miracle came at dawn.
“I love you,” Courtney was whispering as Slayde moved on her, in her, their gazes locked, their fingers intertwined overhead.
Slayde’s grip tightened, his eyes growing fiercely gray. “Marry me,” he demanded hoarsely, pressing his hips to hers with an urgency that transcended the physical. “Courtney—marry me.” It was both command and appeal, torn from his chest, wrenched from his soul. “No matter what the future brings. I can’t live without you. Be my wife.”
Courtney raised up, brushed her lips softly across his. “Yes.” Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t blink or look away. “I can’t live without you either. I didn’t live until we met. Yes. I’d face anything to be your wife.”
He climaxed, gritting his teeth against the unexpected surge of pleasure, pouring into her in a torrent of feeling more profound than words could express.
He expressed them nonetheless.
“I love you,” he ground out, convulsing yet again. “God, I love you.”
Slayde’s response triggered hers, and Courtney shattered, drenching spasms rippling through her, dissolving her into a million fragments of light and love.
