The Notorious Proposal

by Terry Long

  Ally’s very core tasted like hot, dripping honey. It was utterly sweet, addicting. He didn’t think he could wait any longer to deeply bury himself in her delectable body. His mouth never left her heat as his shaky fingers worked on removing his breeches.

  He’d never tasted anything so deliciously sweet in his life. Ally squirmed as he savored her. He knew he’d brought her close to release when she—much to his delight—called out his name incessantly, pleading for more. Her hands grasped his shoulders to keep him there even as she moved, writhed, lifted her hips until she at last came for him.

  When the last of her shivering subsided, Michael covered her body with his and slowly drove inside. She was incredibly hot, making him crazed with the desire to take her higher and higher until she gave him more of her sweet essence.

  As he repeatedly rocked in and out of her, he took every inch he could. She convulsed and whimpered while he loved her, seized her, over and over again. Her muscles clenched around his shaft and he throbbed wilder, harder. Each slow thrust took him closer to the edge, but he set out to vigorously remain stroking within her warmth.

  He shut his eyes, readying himself for sweet submission when he heard the sultry moans escape her throat. Michael held back from quickening his speed and tempo. Instead, he eased onto his knees, locking his gaze on hers. Ally clutched at his thighs, willing him to stay. He smiled. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” He put his fingers at their joining and teased until she gasped and begged him for release. While he rocked inside her, he disbelieved how much she burned for him.

  “Michael. Michael!”

  His name came out fast and ragged, torn from her lips. It was the sweetest sound of release he’d ever heard. He groaned, driving deeper in her, faster, coming at exactly the same time Ally’s world tumbled around her.

  It was glorious. She was glorious.

  Michael gathered her and neatly arranged her to stretch out atop of him. Ally wanted to cover herself, but didn’t have energy to do so.

  “Was that not eventful?” He tugged her gown over her naked bottom for her.

  Ally let out a little bubble of laughter, strained and adorable.

  “Everything you do has to be eventful, doesn’t it?” He merely caressed her shoulders. Although he didn’t respond, Ally knew the answer. Her husband’s every shift, stride, and stir had merit. He knew all along what they’d do when he kissed her underneath the magnolias.

  The way his mind worked was incredible to her. He was so very quick to make a decision and take sudden actions to gain what he wanted. Not that she was complaining, she thought to herself, as they both lay underneath the sun, catching their breaths.

  Ally rolled off Michael’s chest and lay next to him, duplicating his position. “Shall we return now?” she asked. “I want to be home before Nana’s arrival.”

  Michael rolled over to kiss her forehead. “Your grandmother won’t arrive until late in the evening.”

  “Yes, but I’d like to change, and perhaps,” she said feeling a bit flushed, “tidy up.”

  He remained hovering over her as he let out a chuckle.

  “Are you laughing at me?” Now was not a good time. They’d just made love.

  Michael got to his feet and tied his breeches. “For a tart-tongued woman who used to curse me to hell and beyond, you blush far too often, in my opinion.”

  She took his extended hand. “You’re right. You are horrible with words.” She saw that Michael tried to stifle a smile. “And you’re happy with that?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I may not be good with words, but I’d like to think I can even it out with,” he said nodding to the ground, “other things. Agreed?”

  Ally rolled her eyes, but ruined the effect by giggling. “You’re impossible.” She turned and strode toward the horse, barely stopping herself from running down the hill.

  Michael appeared at her side in no time. “You like my lovemaking, though.”

  She tried to ignore his overconfident remark with a straight face, but it proved most difficult. She picked up her pace to avoid his gaze.

  “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” he prodded from behind her. Michael took hold of one of her wrists, stopping her. He then thrust a spray of blue bell at her.

  Astonished by the endearing gesture, Ally carefully took the delicate flower from his fingers. “Thank you. They are lovely. And yes, I do like your lovemaking, Michael.”

  “Very much?”

  She turned her face away from his grinning one.

  Michael took her chin and lifted her face to his, planting a kiss on her parted lips. “That’s for always doing me the honor of blushing.”

  He crushed her body to his entire length and closed his mouth over hers. He bestowed a deep, open-mouthed kiss until she grabbed onto the lapels of his shirt to keep standing straight. As if he knew her knees threatened to give way, he tightened his hold, bringing her closer to his warmth.

  “And what was that for?” she asked when he moved his hot, possessive mouth away from hers.

  He shrugged. “No reason.”

  She gave him a tight embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist. Michael swung her a few times in a dizzying motion. She squealed with laughter.

  When he set her down, Ally’s world spun around her. The only person she saw was Michael- his loving determination, his gleaming smile, his tender gaze.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Amidst a handful of invitations and receipts, a peculiar missive caught Michael’s attention. He broke open the odd seal, taking note of the dull, inexpensive paper, unlike the thick, matted ones he was used to.

  He scanned the contents and his breath caught. He swallowed and read it again.

  Accosted with what it held, he stood and began pacing the study. He needed a few moments to steady himself and contemplate how to best proceed.

  “I see that you have concluded your meeting,” Ally said, poking her head into the study. She paused when their gazes locked. “Is everything well?” She crossed the threshold and stopped in front of him. “What is the matter, Michael? You look as if you’d seen a ghost.”

  There was absolutely no way he could put this adequately into words, so he handed her the missive.

  Cautiously taking it from his hand, Ally lowered her eyes to the parchment. Michael knew the exact moment she re-read it. As she began to shake her head in denial, he swept her into his arms. “I am deeply sorry.”

  She twisted from him, her eyes going back to the letter. “No, ‘tis merely a mistake, that is all. Dr. Reeves must have simply written in haste.”

  How to best explain? He did not know. But Lord, he was going to try. “Your grandmother lived a long and-”

  “No!” Ally continued to shake her head slowly. “No.”

  It wrenched his heart. If anyone knew how difficult it was to lose a person he loved, it was he. “I understand it isn’t easy letting go. We will do this together. I’m here for you. Come,” he said, reaching for her.

  Excruciating pain shot through his chest when she took several steps back. Hand in midair; he let it drop. His gut twisted at the way her lips quivered. The image made him want to expire on the spot. She tried to hold in a sob, pressing her lips into a thin line, but it escaped.

  “Ally, sweetheart, let me help you.”

  “Nana is very strong,” she finally said, her voice strained and forced.

  Michael wanted to hold her as she stated it like her grandmother still lived. He fought against pulling her to him, and remained in place, his fists at his sides. His teeth were clamped so tightly his jaw buzzed.

  Ally went on, oblivious to the misery she inflicted on him with her words. “She has always been strong, until the coughing began. I had to do something for her.” She shook her head at the missive Dr. Reeves scrawled. “I had to!”

  Michael stared at his wife, seeing her cry for the very first time. She hadn’t cried when he hauled her to Scotland. She hadn’t cried when he forced his unwanted kisses
on her the first time. Hell, she hadn’t even cried when he savagely took her. And thank God for that, because he didn’t think he could stand the sight of Ally weeping.

  A fat tear dripped from her chin and landed on the correspondence, dampening one of the penned words. Michael averted his gaze when Ally put her trembling fingertips there, attempting to dry it. His heart wrenched.

  Her focus still remained on that blasted letter, but she went on, “I always believed that Nana would get better. She had to. She is the only person I have…but I sent her to Dr. Reeves.” She lifted her tear-streaked face to his, her gaze clearly unfocused. “He told me she would get better at the hospital if I left her in his care. I believed him. He lied to me!”

  “Ally”

  “I shall never believe him again, I’ll never believe his lies. If Nana had stayed at our home, she would be all right. She would still be here.”

  At least she now accepted the truth and spoke of her grandmother in the past state.

  “It’s my fault!” She sobbed violently into her palms, her whole body shook.

  Michael tried to pacify her, clasping her arms gently, caressing her. “It isn’t your fault, Ally. No one is at fault. Your grandmother was sick.”

  “No.” She jerked from him. “Why did she have to leave me? I missed her so much,” she whispered earnestly with eyes that made him want to give up his own life. “I saw her only yesterday. I wanted to stay with her.”

  Guilt spread within him, little by little. A sense of coldness crept down his body. His mind ticked like the functioning of a clock, every thought solidifying into one. He swallowed, preparing for her to come to the realization as to why she hadn’t been able to stay with her grandmother.

  Suddenly, his wife’s eyes rose to his, focusing with daunting alertness. “You kept me from seeing Nana.”

  Michael swallowed the annoying lump in his throat. “I am most regretful.” He wanted to comfort and hold her. Confident she didn’t want his support, he held back from reaching for her a third time.

  “Michael?”

  “Yes, sweetheart?” If she asked for an arm, he’d give her both of his. The look on her face broke him to pieces. He wanted her to quit weeping.

  “When did this missive arrive?”

  “This morning.” After he responded, he paused, knowing what she might be thinking. “However, I didn’t have the chance to”

  “And you didn’t give this to me until now? Why would you…For the sake of amusement? Since you already knew Nana couldn’t have possibly ever come?” She bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering while she looked at him for an answer. “You told me this morning you’ve sent for Nana. Why?” she said more firmly.

  Michael studied her, read all the emotions play over her face while he replayed her questions in his head. Why? He’d told her this news of sending for her grandmother right before he made love to her. In that instant, Michael saw her eyes widen and saw the accusation written there. “Now, wait a minute, Ally.”

  “I cannot believe you!”

  “It is not what you think.”

  “The hell it isn’t!” Her hands became little fists at her side. “You treated me like a petty beggar, then you abducted me from my home, you lock me in a chamber, and you refused to let me see the one person who had only me to see to her comforts. And then, to further your amusement, kept the truth from me so…” Streams of tears fell down her cheeks like drops of rain against a windowpane. “You knew all along, and you decided to…use me. Of all the terrible things you’ve done, this is by far, the worst! I shall never forgive you!”

  Ally sprinted from his study, and Michael began to follow, but immediately came to a halt when he saw Matthews regarding him at the door with unconcealed dissatisfaction. “Not now,” he warned the man in a dark, menacing tone. He couldn’t open himself to the old man’s comments this evening. He slammed the door with a deafening bang as Matthews opened his mouth.

  Striding back into the study, Michael uncharacteristically plopped into his chair. He knew she needed time to come to terms with her loss. She needed to grieve, to set her emotions in order. He wanted to go to her, hold her, but he knew with every nerve in his body that she’d shut herself to any form of comfort that came from him.

  ***

  Michael waited a few hours, but finally, the thought of her in such pain, such heartache proved too much to bear. He wanted so much to make it all disappear. The sight of Ally running from him earlier had shattered him.

  How he wanted to comfort her.

  He grimaced. Ally losing her grandmother brought back another memory- another black, scarred day when it had been him. He’d argued with the messenger that the information he’d brought was untrue. His parents couldn’t be dead. Michael still remembered the anger and hurt which washed over him, emotions he had curbed instantly after one look at Victor’s crumpled, tear-streaked face.

  Michael started up the stairs, his heart heavy. Since then, his objective had been finishing his father’s venture and trying to keep the wild Victor on the straight and narrow. Suppressing his emotions had come easy to him, until he met Ally.

  He found himself at her bedchamber door. At least he and Victor had each other when their parents died, but Ally had no one. He closed his eyes briefly. No, Ally didn’t have no one. She had him. All of him.

  Walking into the dark room, Michael called her name, but she didn’t respond. Only sniffling sounded, wrenching at his heart. After lighting a candle on a night table, he found her immediately. He didn’t think he could feel any more wretched, but the sight of her hugging her knees at the foot of her bed made him shut his eyes.

  He settled on the floor next to her. “Ally, sweetheart, I’m sorry for your loss.” She said nothing. He went on, “I am here for you. You have me.”

  She looked at him then, and he wished she hadn’t. Those violet eyes filled with tenderness just hours earlier, now regarded him with sheer repugnance. Although she hadn’t said a word since his arrival, her eyes spoke more than all the ominous vocabulary in the English language put together.

  He took her hands, but she pulled away. “At least get off the floor, Ally.”

  “I wish to be alone. Could you at least do that for me?”

  Michael finally hauled himself to his feet, but took her up with him. Ally fought him, but he managed to put her onto the bed. “I’ll have someone bring you a dinner tray.” He pulled the coverlet over her and dropped a swift kiss onto her forehead. His fingers brushed her hair from her face.

  She turned from his caresses. “You ruined my life.”

  Struck into silence, Michael watched as Ally turned to her side, deliberately disregarding him. Those words hung in the air, leaving his heart heavy, his chest tight and painful. “I’m sorry, Ally,” he heard himself utter before he turned to leave.

  ***

  Ensconced in a coach, mindful of his disheartened wife who sat across from him, Michael leaned against the seat and stole quick glances at her. Ally hadn’t wanted him to sit next to her. He didn’t blame her. He wouldn’t want to sit beside him, either.

  It wasn’t his fault that Ally’s grandmother had died. No, but it had been his fault for not allowing her to be with her grandmother for the remainder of the woman’s life.

  He passed Ally another fleeting look. She sat in the corner of her seat, taut and stiff, her mind seemingly miles away. “I know you won’t believe me, Ally, and in the scheme of things it’s of little import, but please know I did not keep the news from you. You saw it only moments after I did. Of the rest, I am guilty, and for that I am heartily sorry. I will do anything you desire to make amends.” His wife did not even look at him. Wishing there could be something he could do to ease her misery, Michael reached for her, unable to be apart from her any longer.

  “Please, don’t.”

  Michael snatched his hands back as if on fire, and he was reduced to feeling like a disease-ridden arse. Glancing out the window, as he felt so wretched, his gaze t
raveled to the horizon beyond that looked as far from his reach as he felt to Ally now.

  Four hours dragged on in silence, and the coach finally stopped. Michael, grateful they arrived at the church, swung the door open and hopped down. Ally refused his offered hand. He watched her climb down without assistance, feeling like shards of glass pierced his heart.

  Her slim fingers gripped the inside of the vehicle to keep her balance while she carefully took each step down. The moment she reached the ground, she brushed past him, and Michael was left to stare after her as she entered the church where her grandmother would be buried.

  If Michael thought the sight of her angry tears the evening before was heartrending, he didn’t know what to call this…perhaps pure agony. He couldn’t stand to see Ally cry pained, despondent tears. The worst part of it was watching her limp form hover over her dead grandmother’s, holding onto her as if she’d never let go.

  The priest passed him hopeful glances several times, but Michael couldn’t bring himself to peel Ally away from her grandmother. Pleading with his eyes, Michael requested his wife have more time to say goodbye. It seemed the priest understood. He clasped his hands over the cross that hung low from his neck, and closed his eyes.

  When time for the burial came, Michael gently took Ally’s shoulders. To his astonishment, she leaned into his side. “Let her go in peace,” he whispered, guiding her from the coffin that two clerical men were now sealing shut.

  Michael held her close as the burial ensued, finally carrying her in his arms when she sagged by the time the last shovels of dirt were packed tight into the ground.

  “We’ll leave now.” His voice sounded too gruff, even for his own ears. Ally didn’t reply, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she rested her head against his chest. Michael knew she was exhausted. And he knew, like him, she hadn’t slept a wink the previous night.