* * *
On Christmas Day, Luke's town house smelled like roast turkey, corn bread stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie. Nell and Dana had cooked and brought the traditional meal, and now the holiday was winding down, with both women preparing to leave.
Maggie reached out to hug Luke's mother. This was the first time Dana had been to her son's home. Although she hadn't been taking her antidepressant long enough to benefit from its full effect, the medication appeared to be helping. She'd panicked a little on the long, congested drive, but once she and Nell had arrived, she was thrilled to spend the day in Chicago – a city she hadn't seen in twenty-seven years.
"Are you going to be okay on the way home?" Maggie asked.
Dana exhaled a deep breath. "I don't like all that rush-rush traffic, but I should be all right. And if I get too nervous, I can always take the tranquilizer the doctor gave me. He discouraged me from using them too often, but he thought I might feel better knowing they're available."
"Luke and I are proud of you."
"Thank you. It actually feels good to get out. And to see the two of you together," she added in a soft whisper.
Maggie squeezed Dana's hand. Luke had been open with his affection in front of his family, and Dana and Nell had noticed every tender kiss and warm gesture. But in spite of his loving behavior, he'd yet to say the words. He was still holding back, and Maggie didn't know why.
"We better get going," Neil put in. "It'd be best to get home before dark."
Another round of hugs was exchanged. Maggie waited at the door while Luke walked the women to their car and made them promise to call as soon as they arrived at the farm.
A light coat of snow blanketed the ground, and holiday lights twinkled as far as the eye could see. It felt good to be home, Maggie thought. But it worried her, too. The case was solved, and her life would resume in Chicago. But how long Luke would be a part of it, she couldn't say. He hadn't mentioned the marriage dare or what the outcome would be.
Luke came back and took Maggie's hand, then guided her to the sofa. The Cherokee tree, as she called it, glimmered with lights and Indian jewels. Strands of turquoise beads draped each branch, and leather-wrapped feathers made an earthly statement.
"I have another gift for you," he said.
"You do?" They'd already exchanged a bundle of presents with his family.
"Yeah. But I have a question first. How many children do you want?"
Caught off guard, she blinked. "I'm not sure. Two, maybe three." Her heart fluttered right along with her lashes. "Are you offering to give me a baby? Is that my gift?"
"Yes. No, Sort of." He couldn't seem to get the words right. "This is … I'm…" He paused, leaving the sentence dangling. "I figured you'd want to finish grad school before you had kids."
She decided not to comment on his assumption since she wasn't quite sure where this conversation was leading. "I'm confused, Luke. What's going on?"
He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a ring-size box. "I've been carrying this around all day." Hipping open the top, he presented her with a marquise-cut diamond that blazed like a star.
A rapid pulse burst through her body. "Oh. Oh, my." It was beautiful. Dazzling. And completely unexpected.
"I'm asking you to marry me. And have my children. But I was hoping that you didn't want to wait too many years before we started having kids, because I'm not getting any younger. I'll be old and gray before you know it."
And that, she realized, was why he'd been holding back. He glanced down at the ring, then back up at her. "I love you, Maggie, and I know you love me. And I apologize if this isn't a very romantic proposal. But I need to know that you're going into this with your eyes open. I'm nearly forty years old, and you're still in your early twenties."
"My eyes are open." And she was staring right at him, memorizing every rawboned feature in her mind. "We don't have to rush through our lives, worrying about our age difference. We'll live each day as if it's our last. We'll enjoy every moment, and we'll have babies when the time feels right." She slid a hand into his hair. "You're going to make an incredible father, whether our first child arrives next year or three years after that."
He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. "My beautiful, free-spirited Maggie. Do you know why the Gypsy gave me a muse? Because she could read my mind, and she knew that I'd fallen in love with you the first time we danced."
Her eyes watered, misting with tears.
"A qua da nv do. It means my heart. And that's what you are." He took the ring and slid it on her finger. "When Paulus told me that they'd kidnapped you, I forced myself to stay strong. But deep down, I was afraid they'd kill you just to take you away from me." He paused, his voice rough with emotion. "I couldn't have survived without you, Maggie. My heart would have died."
"We're fine. We're both fine." She couldn't stop the tears from falling. "And we're going to be together for the rest of our lives."
"Promise?" he asked.
She nodded and crossed her heart, then placed her hand over his. It thumped against her palm, strong and steady. With lights blinking on the tree and ice fogging the windows, she unbuttoned his shirt. She would never forget this glorious Christmas Day.
He scooped her up and carried her to his room. The four-poster bed was carved from a rich, masculine mahogany, and his sheets rivaled the color of grapes turning sweet and dark on the vine. Maggie tasted his lips, the potency of his kiss.
They took their time undressing each other, hands questing. She knew he loved her. Not because he'd told her, but because she could feel it in his touch.
He fanned her hair around the pillow, slid his palms over her skin, following the curve of her body, molding her, claiming her as his own.
"You healed me," he said. "You won the dare."
"Because you let it happen. A part of you wanted to be healed."
He lowered his head and ran his tongue over her nipples, sending delicious little flutters low in her belly.
"You bewitched me, Maggie. You bewitch me now."
The playful licks turned to a deep, hard suckling. Reaching for the bedpost, she moaned and arched, thrilling him. She could feel his fire, the heat and the hunger, the scorching contact of mouth against breast.
Intent on giving pleasure, he moved lower. It was exquisite torture. Tender yet somehow edged with talons, with the promise of a hot, explosive climax.
He dipped his tongue into her navel, and her stomach jumped. But as he trailed that warm, wet mouth over her thigh, her entire body convulsed, anticipating more. So much more.
In one quick motion, he lifted her hips. "My beautiful Maggie. I can't get enough of you."
She slid her hands into his hair, and he kissed between her legs. Kissed until her breath sobbed and her soul quaked.
Chips of cedar burned in a clay pot, and the diamond on her finger flashed like lightning, a streak of white blazing in the wood-smoked room. She gripped the bedpost for support and let him push her over the edge.
And when her heartbeat stabilized and her breath returned in gasping pants, she saw adoration shining in his eyes.
"Luke." With sighs and strokes, she enticed him to join with her.
Anxious and aroused, he made a low, primal sound and covered her body with his. She held him close, soothing his desire, taming the urgency.
Maggie wanted this feeling to last.
He caressed her cheek; she pressed her forehead to his and cherished the man she would marry. And then they made love.
Slow and easy, yet brimming with passion.
They moved in unison, dancers lost in each other's eyes. Images of winter sweetness filled her mind, like honey swirling and spinning, then melting over snow-kissed skin. And it would always be this way, she thought as his heart took hers.
This feeling was hers to keep.
Always and forever.
* * *
Days later Luke and Maggie returned to Altaria, but t
his time they shared a suite at Dunemere. Bruno had spent Christmas with the royal family, being pampered at the palace, but now he was back at the private beach with Luke and Maggie.
After a vigorous run along the shore, Luke showered, shaved, dried his hair and then proceeded to attire himself in a black tuxedo.
Maggie stood at a full-length mirror, putting the finishing touches on her appearance. Her satin dress, the color of the moon and sprinkled with sequins that could have been stars, flowed to the floor like a December rain, reflecting glints of light. Her hair was swept away from her face and pinned into an elegant twist. Iridescent pearls rested at her neck and adorned her ears. A pair of gauntlet gloves and satin pumps completed the stunning ensemble.
Luke had to remind himself to breathe. He loved her beyond reason, this woman who had healed his heart.
Suddenly he had the urge to unzip her dress, slide his hands through her properly coiffed hair and pull her onto the canopied bed in a flurry of white satin and floral-scented skin. Love, he thought, moving toward her, was a powerful emotion.
And so, heaven help him, was lust.
Aware of the desire brewing in his loins, she met his eyes in the mirror. "Don't you dare, Lucas."
He grinned, knowing full well that he had to behave. "Can't a guy fantasize around here?"
She turned, running her gaze quite deliberately over him. "Maybe I'll indulge in a little fantasy myself. You look dashing, Mr. Starwind."
"Thank you, Miss Connelly."
"I have something for you." She went to the dresser and opened a jewelry box. Producing a small diamond earring, she held it up for his inspection.
Luke smiled. He knew his pierced ear fascinated her. He removed the tiny silver hoop he always wore and let her slip the diamond in place. The faceted stone winked against his dark skin.
"Perfect," she said, brushing his lips with a tempting kiss.
He tasted her lipstick and went after her tongue, doing his damnedest not to mar her exquisite image. A long, black limousine was already waiting to take them to the cathedral.
She kissed him back, refreshed her lipstick and promised to indulge his fantasies when they returned from the ball tonight.
He intended to hold her to that promise, knowing she wore a mouthwatering bustier, adjustable garters, thigh-high hose and a pair of sheer lace panties under her dress.
A few minutes later Luke escorted Maggie to the car. This afternoon the Royal Bishop, Altaria's religious head of state, would minister King Daniel's coronation.
When Luke and Maggie arrived, they followed the lavish procession and took their designated seats. A provision had been made for Luke to remain by Maggie's side during the ceremony. Although he wasn't part of the Rosemere-Connelly family yet, his engagement to Maggie was official, the ring on her finger a testimony of love and commitment.
Awed by his surroundings, Luke studied the opulent inlay and marble columns stationed between carved archways and colorful mosaics.
Clearly, the Grand Cathedral lived up to its name. The remarkable medieval structure, built of high-quality stone, had withstood the ravages of time. And because ancient architecture fascinated Luke, he knew many of the original stones contained masons' marks, signs and symbols denoting the early craftsmanship. The mark befitting the ceremony today was called the Sign of Honor, a symbol that transformed into a crest – a coat of arms incised on the stones.
King Daniel's sword, sheathed at his side, bore that very crest. Standing at the front of the cathedral, he wore the impressive armed forces uniform Altaria bestowed upon its commander-in-chief. A blue sash spanned his chest, and gold braiding trimmed a double-breasted jacket decorated with medals, ribbons and gilded buttons.
The ceremony began with the Royal Bishop addressing the people in attendance. As the bishop spoke, the young king faced his subjects.
"I present unto you King Daniel, your undisputed king. For all of you who come this day, he offers homage and service. Are you willing to do the same?"
In one clear voice of acceptance, the people responded, "God save King Daniel!" and a shiver raced up Luke's spine.
The king turned and knelt at the altar, waiting for the bishop. The holy man then administered the coronation oath.
"Sir, is Your Majesty willing to take the oath?"
"I am willing," the king said.
Luke listened while Maggie's oldest brother placed his hand upon the Bible and swore to govern the people of Altaria according to the country's laws and customs. He completed the oath by saying, "These things which I have promised, I will perform with honor. So help me God."
As the coronation robes were draped around King Daniel's broad shoulders and the crown centered upon his head, Luke held his breath and Maggie's eyes filled with tears. The Imperial Crown, encrusted with priceless jewels and enhanced by the kaleidoscopic light from a stained-glass window, shone like a beacon of authority.
The king bowed his head in prayer, and those assembled did the same, humbling themselves to the Creator above and beseeching His guidance for the rest of their days.
It was, Luke thought as he closed his eyes, a moment he would never forget.
* * *
The magnificent stone castle had impressed dukes, duchesses, lords, ladies and heads of state who'd been invited to lavish balls over the centuries, and this celebration was no exception.
The Emerald Ballroom housed an exquisite dining room and generous dance floor, where modern renovations blended with the mystique of medieval architecture.
Malachite floors swept the interior in polished splendor, offering swirling shades of green. Light spilled from crystal chandeliers, pouring over the grand hall like a fountain. Twisted columns shimmered with gilded inlay, and circular tables were set with fine linens, indigenous floral arrangements and bone china bearing the royal crest.
The Connelly family sat with the king and queen in the center of the dining room. King Daniel looked strong and handsome in his uniform, and Queen Erin, a former royal protocol instructor and the lovely woman Daniel had married, dazzled the eye in a stunning gold gown and diamond tiara.
Maggie's entire family was present, each adding their own special flair to the gathering. It was, she thought, the most glorious affair she had ever attended.
Queen Erin had selected the menu, choosing recipes from around the globe. The appetizers, prepared by a renowned chef, tempted the palate with a variety of international flavors. The crispy artichoke flowers hailed from Italy, and the crab and coconut dip boasted Caribbean roots.
Yes, Maggie thought, everything was perfect. While she enjoyed truffled quail eggs and caviar moons, Luke favored sweet-corn flans, an appetizer that probably reminded him of a Cherokee dish. Corn, she knew, was a staple in his heritage.
She turned to smile at him – her lover, her warrior, the man who had risked his life to save hers.
He returned her smile, letting her know how pleased he was with the choices they had made. Because Maggie wanted the opportunity to plan the wedding of her dreams, they'd decided to marry the following year. And in the meantime, they'd agreed to divide their time between Maggie's downtown loft and a country home Luke intended to buy, where the richness of the land would soothe his Cherokee soul.
While Maggie studied her fiancé, he leaned toward Mandy Connelly. The six-year-old sat beside him in a taffeta gown and jeweled barrettes, looking like a fairy-tale princess with white-blond hair and sparkling green eyes. Maggie knew Luke had bonded with her niece, and seeing them together warmed her heart.
"Will you save a dance for me?" he asked the child.
"Yes, thank you, sir," she responded, her royal manners intact. Mandy was a precocious girl who could wrap a man around her little finger and tie him in a loving bow. Clearly, Luke had been knotted nice and tight.
Mandy's father, Drew, touched her shoulder. He was the man she had practiced that perfect little bow on. "Should we make our announcement?" he asked her.
The child glance
d at Kristina, her adoring stepmother. They exchanged a knowing smile, and Mandy took the helm. Tapping on her water glass, she got the attention of everyone at the table with a delicate crystal chime.
"My dad and Kristina are going to have a baby," she said, flashing a sister-in-waiting grin.
"Two babies," Drew put in as he nuzzled his wife and winked at his daughter. "Twins."
The Connelly family erupted in joy. The king proposed a toast and flutes were lifted in celebration. Luke clinked Maggie's glass, and they smiled at each other.
"Do you think that could happen to us?" he asked.
She knew he meant the arrival of two babies at once. "I don't know." She glanced at Drew, who shared a toast with his twin, Brett. Her brothers were lucky to have each other. "I hope so."
"Me, too," Luke said.
Touched, she brushed his cheek with a gentle kiss, then noticed her father watching them.
Grant Connelly, attired in a traditional tuxedo and diamond cuff links, sat next to his bejeweled wife, beaming with pride. All of his children had found love and happiness. No one in the family was immune, including Maggie's cousin, Princess Catherine, who dined with Sheikh Kaj at her side.
Nearly two hours later, the six-course meal ended in a decadent dessert, a cognac trifle garnished with sugared cranberries and mint leaves.
As Maggie dipped into the custard and cake, Luke sipped a cup of black coffee. "Can you imagine how they must feel," he said, referring to the king and queen. "Knowing their firstborn son will rule a nation someday?"
Maggie smiled, realizing Luke was still thinking about procreation. "It must be an incredible feeling," she agreed as the king reached for the queen's hand.
The royal couple danced the first waltz, the picture of grace and elegance. Soon other couples joined them, and the ballroom came alive with music and regal splendor.
"Would you like to dance?" Luke asked.
Emotional and misty-eyed, Maggie nodded. Moments later, as they glided eloquently across the floor, the rest of the world disappeared. Suddenly they were the only two people on earth.
She gazed into his eyes. "It's just like before." They had fallen in love the first time they'd danced, and on this magical evening, they were falling in love all over again.
CHEROKEE MARRIAGE DARE Page 15
