by Cheryl Holt
He kissed her, stopping her tirade in mid-rant.
"You are so dense," he said as he pulled away.
"That was a list of your good qualities. Shall I start on the bad ones?"
"I’m not marrying Susan."
"You’re marrying someone besides Susan? How many women do you have?" She threw up her hands. "Eleanor was correct; I’m the stupidest female in history! What will become of me?"
She looked so horrified that he could only laugh. With her as his wife, he would never have a dull moment.
"Would you be silent and listen to me?"
"Why? So you can regale me with your fiancée’s many charms?"
"Yes. She is kind and loyal and steady and true. She’s smart and shrewd and thrifty and wise.
She’s—"
"Shut up!" She seized the lapels of his coat and shook him. "I won’t have you bragging about her. I can’t bear it!"
"I’m talking about you, you silly fool. It’s you. You are my fiancée."
"Me?"
"Yes, you. I’m marrying you."
She still looked horrified. "You are not."
"I am."
She frowned and glanced away. "No, that can’t be right. Why would you even think that way?"
She slid from his lap and walked across the room. She was pacing, mumbling to herself. Occasionally, she’d peek over at him, her expression irked and perplexed.
He watched her as she fumed and fussed. As long as he could keep her in his sight, he was happy to let her rage. He could be incredibly patient when pursuing an important goal, and he’d wear her down. She didn’t stand a chance.
After some extensive fretting, she halted and whirled around. "Why did you chase after me to Dover?"
"I was terrified over your fate."
"Over my fate. Over me…"
"Yes."
"But…why?"
"Don’t you know?"
"I have no idea."
She was mystified, and in light of what she’d endured in the past few days, was it any wonder she was confused? She was like a wild animal, hearing the dogs approach and trying to figure out the best route of escape.
He loved sparring with her, but she was in no condition for discussion or debate, and he decided to have mercy on her.
He rose and gestured to his chair.
"Come here, Grace."
She gaped at the chair as if he was about to tie her down and torture her in it.
"Why?"
"There’s something I have to tell you."
"You can say it from over there."
"No, you have to sit." He gestured again. "Come. Please."
She took a hesitant step, then another and eased herself down. With her sitting, and him standing, he towered over her. He felt as he was meant to feel, manly and protective.
Could he persuade her that she needed him? He’d never been overly loquacious, and she was so darn tough. Would it kill her to lean on him just a bit?
"What is it?" She appeared wary and exhausted.
"When I was riding across England, searching for your sister, I had plenty of time to reflect."
"What about?"
"About what I want out of my life."
"Well…good. Your life is a mess. It’s about time you took stock."
"Yes, it is. And guess what I discovered?"
"What?"
"I want you."
"You want…me."
"Yes, today and tomorrow and the next and the next and the next after that."
"As your…what?"
"As my wife. What would you suppose?"
"Me. Grace Bennett. You’d like me to marry you."
"Now you’re getting it. You’re really slow this morning, Grace."
"We’d wed, and I’d become Mrs. Jackson Scott."
"Yes. You. Me. Husband and wife. Wed. To each other."
"Why?"
"I could pretend to be incredibly noble, and with you increasing, declare it my duty to do the honorable thing."
"Yes, but I’d know you were lying."
"Or I could claim that I lust after you as I’ve never lusted after another female, and I want you in my bed."
"I wouldn’t believe that, either."
"Or I could simply confess that I’m so madly in love with you, I can barely breathe."
"You’re…what?"
"I love you, Grace." He dropped to one knee and clasped hold of her hand. "Will you marry me?"
"What?"
"Your tribulations must have affected your hearing. Are you deaf?"
"I’m not deaf. I could swear you just asked me to marry you."
"I did."
"I could swear you said you love me."
"I do, I am, I will. Forever."
"No, no, no"—she extended her palms as if warding off evil—"you can’t be serious."
"Why can’t I?"
"Because you’re Jackson Scott."
He nodded. "Yes, I am."
"And I am Grace Bennett."
"Yes, you are, and I’m happy to see that we’ve established our identities."
"You can’t wed me."
"Why can’t I?"
"You’re a member of an aristocratic family, and I’m not. Aren’t there rules to prohibit such a match?"
"Not for me. I’m a grown man with my own fortune, and I can make my own decisions. No one can tell me how to act. May we please move on? Answer my question."
"What question?"
"Will you marry me?"
"You have women lurking around every corner. You host parties with concubines, and you participate in orgies."
"I never claimed to be a saint."
"You’re a confirmed bachelor who enjoys his freedom, who refuses to be tied down."
"All in the past."
"What is the past? Two weeks ago?"
"Yes, starting with the day you stormed into my life. Nothing has been the same since I met you."
"Yet suddenly, preposterously, you want to get married, and you want to get married to me."
"Yes, Grace, I do."
"Get up, Jackson." She frowned with dismay. "Get up now."
She stood, and she tried to pull him up, too, but he wouldn’t cooperate. He knelt before her, humbled, content, eagerly ready for what the future would bring.
"I’m not much of a catch," he stated.
"You’re right about that."
"But I swear to you that I will always love you and protect you and make you happy. Say yes, Grace. Say you’ll have me."
She began to tremble, and she slid away and walked over to the window. As he pushed himself to his feet, she was staring out across the park, lost in thought.
"What is it?" he asked. "Don’t you love me in return? Is that it? I was positive you had feelings for me."
She paused for so long that his pulse pounded with dread. What if his powerful sentiments weren’t reciprocated?
He’d proceeded with his typical vain certainty that he could shape the world to his own liking. Yet he couldn’t force her to love him. What if she didn’t? What then?
"I…I…" she haltingly stammered, "have feelings for you."
He slumped with relief. "Then what’s wrong?"
"I’m afraid."
"Of what?"
She spun to face him, and she looked so forlorn that his heart broke. Why did he make her so miserable?
"I’m afraid you don’t mean it," she murmured.
"Don’t mean it! Are you mad?"
"I infuriate and exasperate you. It’s every trait you loathe in a female, so why would you seek those qualities in a wife? I’d drive you insane with my nonsense."
"Well, I’ve determined that I might relish a bit of insanity. Up until recently, my life has been entirely too boring."
"You’re prepared for the chaos I would provide?"
"You’d provide chaos?" he sarcastically mused. "I didn’t realize!"
"You claim to want me now, today. What about next week or next month or next yea
r?"
"I’ll never stop loving you."
"How can I be sure? I’ve always been alone, Jackson. I’ve always had to work and struggle."
"I know."
"If I say yes, if I cast my lot with you, but later, you wish I hadn’t or you change your mind, I couldn’t survive it."
"You silly girl," he gently chided. "I won’t ever change my mind."
He went to her and pulled her close.
"Take a chance on me, Grace. You’ll never be sorry."
She searched his eyes, trying to read what was written there, and he let his affection shine through.
"What about your mother and Susan?"
"What about them?"
"I’m still scared of them."
"There’s no need to be. I’ve already sent them away, and I promise they will never harm you again. Not so long as I have breath in my body."
"If I wed you, they’ll be enraged. They’ll constantly plot against me."
"They’ll never succeed in any mischief. Don’t fret about them."
"What about Michael?"
"He’ll be earl. He’s the firstborn son. I’ll right the wrong that was done to him. It may take some time, but I will fix the situation. You have my word on it."
"It will cause such a mess."
He shrugged and chuckled. "Why would I care about a little mess?"
"What about my sister and Duncan? They’re penniless."
"I’ll probably give them a small property as a wedding gift, so they’ll have an income."
She scowled, still perplexed. "You would do that? Why?"
"Would it make you happy if I help your sister?"
"Yes."
"Then that’s why. I’d do it because it would make you happy." She was trembling again, and he slipped his hand into hers. "You’ll have a home, Grace. You’ll have a place where you’re loved and cherished, where you’ll always belong. And you’ll have me by your side. Each and every day, you’ll have me for your very own."
"I’d have you…" The notion riveted her.
He was on tenterhooks, her affirmative answer about to arrive, when someone pounded on the door. His moment with her was ruined.
"Jackson! Jackson, are you in there? Let me in."
"Is that Duncan?" she asked as she drew away.
"Yes."
"You’d better see what he wants. I hope there’s no new trouble."
He sighed as a parade of people marched in: Duncan, Eleanor, Michael, Percival. They huddled in a group, glaring at Jackson.
"What?" Jackson demanded of Duncan.
"The boys told me you were browbeating Grace."
"I’m not browbeating her," Jackson huffed. "I’m proposing marriage."
"You’re…proposing?"
"Yes."
"You’re eager to get yourself leg shackled?"
"Yes."
"You’re ready to abandon your wild bachelor habits?"
"Yes."
"You’re prepared to be bound to one woman for the rest of eternity?"
"Yes, absolutely."
Duncan glowered at Grace. "Please tell me you had the good sense to say yes."
"I’m thinking, I’m thinking," Grace muttered.
"Think a little faster," Duncan scolded.
"She doesn’t believe I’m much of a catch," Jackson said.
"I didn’t say that!" Grace fumed.
"You didn’t have to!"
"I suppose I might have felt that way in the past."
"But a man can change, can’t he?" Jackson inquired. "A man can become the person he’s destined to be?"
Grace was undeterred. "I imagine that could happen—once in a blue moon."
Her sister piped in with, "Of course, a man can change. Look at Duncan."
Jackson waved a dismissive hand. "I wouldn’t use Duncan as an example."
"But he’s the man of my dreams." Eleanor peered over at Grace. "How about you, Grace? Is Jackson the man of your dreams?"
Grace stared and stared at Jackson, and finally, she smiled.
"He might be, Eleanor. He just might be."
Jackson smiled, too. "What are you saying, Grace? Are you saying yes?"
Slowly, she nodded. "I am, Jackson. I’m saying yes."
"Do you mean it?"
"It seems I do."
"Because with me, it’s forever. It’s till my dying day."
"It’s till my dying day, too. So you better make it worth my while."
"Trust me, Grace, I will make it worth your while. Each and every second."
"Will I always be happy?"
He scoffed. "With me as your husband, how could you ever be anything else?"
THE END
BOOKS BY CHERYL HOLTSWEET SEDUCTION
MUD CREEK
MARRY ME
LOVE ME
KISS ME
SEDUCE ME
KNIGHT OF SEDUCTION
NICHOLAS
DREAMS OF DESIRE
TASTE OF TEMPTATION
PROMISE OF PLEASURE
LOVE’S PROMISE
LOVE’S PRICE
LOVE’S PERIL
SLEEPING WITH THE DEVIL
DOUBLE FANTASY
FORBIDDEN FANTASY
SECRET FANTASY
TOO WICKED TO WED
TOO TEMPTING TO TOUCH
TOO HOT TO HANDLE
THE WEDDING NIGHT
FURTHER THAN PASSION
DEEPER THAN DESIRE
MORE THAN SEDUCTION
COMPLETE ABANDON
ABSOLUTE PLEASURE
TOTAL SURRENDER
LOVE LESSONS
MOUNTAIN DREAMS
MY TRUE LOVE
MY ONLY LOVE
MEG’S SECRET ADMIRER
WAY OF THE HEART
Praise for New York Times Bestselling Author
CHERYL HOLT
"Best storyteller of the year..."
Romantic Times Magazine
"A master writer…"
Fallen Angel Reviews
"The Queen of Erotic Romance…"
Book Cover Reviews
"Cheryl Holt is magnificent…"
Reader to Reader Reviews
"From cover to cover, I was spellbound. Truly outstanding…"
Romance Junkies
"A classic love story with hot, fiery passion dripping from every page. There’s nothing better than curling up with a great book and this one totally qualifies."
Fresh Fiction
"This book pulls you in and you won’t be able to put it down."
The Romance Studio
"This is a masterpiece of storytelling. A sensual delight scattered with rose petals that are divinely arousing. Oh my, yes indeedy!"
Reader to Reader Reviews
"Bravo, Ms. Holt, for continuing to entertain us with your exceptional talent."
Coffee Time Romances
"Holt's powerful descriptive powers allow the reader to step into the story and become an active participant, surrendering to the richness and splendor of a truly outstanding love-story."
Romantic Crush Junkies
"A sensual feast of love, betrayal, and sensual pleasure that takes the reader beyond the typical consequences of the desire for happily ever after. Indeed, illicit desire has unexpected consequences as complexities and complications clash in this powerful story that readers will find impossible to put down. Each characters springs vibrantly alive, living in the reader's imagination long after the last page is turned."
Word Weaving.com
"Captivating! A perfect read for snuggling down with your favorite blanket and a nice glass of wine at the end of the day."
Novels Alive TV
CHERYL HOLT is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels.
She’s also a lawyer and mom, and at age forty, with two babies at home, she started a new career as a commercial fiction writer. She’d hoped to be a suspense novelist, but couldn’t sell any of her manuscripts, so she ended up t
aking a detour into romance where she was stunned to discover that she has a knack for writing some of the world’s greatest love stories.
Her books have been released to wide acclaim, and she has won or been nominated for many national awards. She is particularly proud to have been named “Best Storyteller of the Year” by the trade magazine Romantic Times BOOK Reviews.
She lives and writes in Hollywood, California, and she loves to hear from fans. Visit her website at www.cherylholt.com.
