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As if she was made of the same stuff.
“I have already claimed you for my country, Delaney,” he growled at her. He moved over her then, climbing onto the bed and lowering himself so that he pressed her down, his flesh against hers, and it was extraordinary. He braced his hands on either side of her head, holding her face where he wanted it. “But tonight, little one, I also claim you for me.”
She felt him between her legs, huge and hard, and she caught her breath—whether to cheer or sob or laugh wildly herself, she would never know.
It was all molten and gold straight through.
Because with a twist of his hips he thrust himself deep. And she was soft and needy still, but yet she felt that sharp tug—
She gasped, but it was gone in an instant.
And his mouth was at her neck while he began to move, inexorable, inescapable, and so shockingly beautiful that she didn’t understand how anything could possibly feel this excruciatingly perfect—
But with every thrust of the hardest part of him deep into the heart of her heat, it got better.
When that should have been impossible.
She felt raw, exposed. And at the same time, closer to this man than she had ever been to another in her life.
He was inside her. But she felt as if she was inside him, too.
Cayetano held her against him, and she arched up so she could press herself against the wall of his chest. So she could take him deeper and deeper still. And the color of his eyes was as molten she felt—
And then everything was bright and too hot and shattering.
It went on forever.
But this time they broke apart together.
And it was a long while later when she found her way back to herself again, drowsy and inordinately pleased to find herself tucked up against his side. She could hear his breathing. His scent was all around her. She was delightfully warm though there were no covers over her.
It was only when she thought about looking for one that she realized he had never turned on a light when they’d come inside. That meant that she could lie there, his heavy arm around her and her head on his magnificent chest, and look out and see nothing but stars. Brilliant, beautiful.
As mysterious and unknowable as he was.
But even as she thought that a different sort of melody wound its way through her. Because everything was changed again. He was right about that. What had happened tonight had made too many things abundantly clear to her. But maybe because of that, something had occurred to her.
Because it was true, everything that had happened since he’d pulled up in the yard was out of character for Delaney Clark, farm girl from Kansas, who never had seen beyond the cornfields.
But that wasn’t who she was. Like it or not, she was a princess. One day she would be Queen.
His Queen.
When he shifted beside her, she turned to find that he was wide-awake, the burnt gold of his eyes simmering.
And before he could speak she reached over and traced a finger over that hard, starkly sensual mouth.
She couldn’t say what she wanted to say. What it hurt her not to say, with all her heart. It was too soon. Too new.
I love you, she wanted to shout. To cry. To sing.
But she couldn’t say it out loud. Not yet.
So she said the next best thing instead.
“I will marry you,” Delaney whispered. Not that he had been in any doubt, she knew that. But it was different for her to say it. And she could see the way it lit him up. She could feel the heavy male part of him stir against her. So she held his gaze, even as she reached her hand down to curl her fingers around that silken steel. She shuddered in anticipation, but held his gaze so there could be no mistake. “Cayetano, I will be your Queen.”
CHAPTER TEN
