“I must have been temporarily crazy. I’d forgotten what he’s like.”
“As long as she doesn’t mind, sweetheart, why should you?”
She started to frown, but ended up smiling. “How right you are. / won’t have to live with him, after all.”
Inside the parlor, Jocelyn drained the brandy from her glass before saying, “That wasn’t very nice of you.”
“Wasn’t I polite enough?”
She quirked a brow at his innocent expression, not sure whether he was serious or not. Not that she cared. She was more interested in what he was doing here.
He had dropped his coat on the rack in the hall before the shouting had drawn him upstairs. She noted the absence of buckskins and braids. Only his moccasins were familiar. The rest of his attire, the dark pants and open-necked blue shirt, the red bandanna and Western hat, was pretty much what the average cowboy sported.
He was taking in her dress, in particular her thin camisole, so incongruous with her heavy wool skirt. She could feel the color mounting and it annoyed her.
Good Lord, after all they had been through, how could he still make her blush?
She decided her doubting look was answer enough to his question and asked one of her own. “What are you doing here, Colt?”
“I’d heard you planned to shoot Longnose yourself.”
“And you thought to dissuade me from that notion?”
” Something like that.”
She remembered saying that to him once and couldn’t help smiling, even if she was disappointed by his answer. “Your timing was on the mark — as ever. I don’t suppose I’ll ever learn his real name now.”
“Does it matter?”
“No, he was a Longnose to the end, following my scent across yet another country. I’m liable to miss him, you know. He added an element of excitement to my life.”
“You’ll have to find something else, then — that can excite you.”
Those words didn’t do too bad a job. She could feel her heartbeat accelerate. And the way he was looking at her.
She moved over to the window so she could watch the activity at the stable and get her pulse under control. The animals were already being taken into the old barn, which fortunately hadn’t been torn down yet. She didn’t see much more than that, however, once Colt moved up behind her. He had a way of claiming her full attention even when she wasn’t looking at him.
“Will you marry me?”
Jocelyn’s forehead dropped against the window. It was a wonder her legs didn’t give out. She felt such unbelievable relief on hearing those words, and such ecstasy washing over her — and he’d made her suffer for three weeks while he made up his mind.
“I don’t know,” she said in a perfectly normal tone, though she didn’t know how she managed it. “The countess says one shouldn’t marry her lover. Ruins the romance, you know.”
“And I’m not suitable except to be your lover?”
She swung around, her eyes large with temper. “Suitable? There you go belittling yourself again! I thought I’d warned you—”
He grabbed her to shut her up. “Am I still your lover?”
“If you are, you’ve been a very inattentive one.”
He kissed the pout from her lips, slowly, persuasively. “What if you marry me for the hell of it, but we pretend we’re just lovers?”
“That sounds rather nice, especially since lovers tend to love each other.”
“And married folks don’t?”
“Not always.”
“I won’t have any problem with that.”
“You won’t?”
“Don’t look so surprised, Duchess. Did you think I was after your money?”
She was chagrined by his grin, and snorted, “You’ll probably ask me to give it all away.”
“I might.”
“And live in a cabin in the hills.”
“I might.”
“And have your babies and wash your clothes.”
“I’d like to keep my clothes intact, and I warn you now, you’re not getting anywhere near my stove. I guess you’ll have to have a few servants around after all.”
“And the babies?”
“You want some?”
“Most definitely.”
“I guess that means you love me, huh?”
“Or I just like your body. Did I tell you what a splendid— Yes!” she squealed when he squeezed her tight. “I love you, you wretched man.”
“You could have told me sooner,” he growled, holding her close. “Like when I was making love to you or some other appropriate time. Then I wouldn’t have gone through hell these last weeks thinking—”
“If you’re going to mention something about your heritage, Colt Thunder, I’ll hit you.”
He leaned back to look at her fierce expression, and then he laughed. “God, I love you, Duchess.
You’re one of a kind.”
“I’m delighted to know it,” she said between showering his face with kisses. “But if you can call my closest friend by name, why can’t you say mine? It’s Jocelyn, if you don’t remember.”
“I know what it is, honey, but it isn’t you. You’re the duchess, plain and simple — and mine.”
“Well, if you put it that way…”
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Savage Thunder
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Savage Thunder ww-2 Page 32