He recalled the opening night performance and how he had watched with a sinking heart as Ruby was presented to the king of England. He was angry with himself. He should have forced Ruby to wed him after their first night together. He was tired of hiding his feelings and tired of watching Ruby move further and further away from him. He knew now there was no other woman for him but Ruby. He loved her. He could hide it and suppress his feelings, but that was the truth. He loved her.
“Ruby . . .” His fingers trailed into her hair.
He remembered that night on board the ship when she had thrown her pins at him and then he had taken the rest out. Her hair had fanned across his pillow like a golden wave, and he ached to see it like that again.
“Ruby, darling.” His voice was husky and his Southern accent even stronger.
They had grown up in the same little town and in the same small world. They were both Southerners at heart with a love of magnolia trees and sweet iced tea and pecans and tradition.
“Honey, I’m sorry. I am a bastard. I’m a jealous bastard.”
Ruby looked up into his eyes, her little mouth red from his kisses. “Why are you jealous, Ford?”
“I don’t want anyone else around you. It drives me crazy. And I’m behaving like a heel.”
“You know you don’t have anything to be jealous about. You’re the only one who means anything to me.” Her gray eyes glistened in the darkened room.
“Ruby, I love you. I do.”
“You do?” she asked, afraid she had misheard the words.
“I swear I do.”
He pressed against her then, kissing her mouth and pulling up her skirts. In a frantic movement, he unbuttoned his trousers and was immensely grateful for her frilly drawers with the open seam. When he eased into her, she was tight and wet, and she threw her head back in pleasure.
“Ford!”
When he had buried himself to the hilt, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He wanted nothing more than to strip her naked and spend all night loving her, but it would not be possible that night.
“Sweet Ruby,” he murmured in her ear as he picked her up and moved her to the sofa.
Laying her down upon it, he admired her gray eyes set in the small oval face that he had grown to adore.
“I’ve always loved you, Ford,” she said quietly. “Always.”
Moving slowly in and out, the sight of her face and the look in her eyes almost sent him over the edge. He could feel the silkiness of her legs wrapped around him even as her upper body remained clothed. When he leaned in to kiss her, he watched her face as the orgasm swept over her, and he easily spilled his seed inside her warm body.
They lay together on the sofa for several minutes before he buttoned his trousers.
“Ruby,” he said as she smoothed down her dress.
“Yes?”
“I didn’t plan this.”
“I know that,” she said softly.
“I meant what I said.” He tucked a curl behind her ear. “I love you. I’ve been stubborn as a mule, maybe not wanting to admit it to myself, but I see it clearly now. I love you, Ruby Mae.”
Ruby smiled, trying to fight the tears she felt springing to her eyes. “It’s only taken you a decade or so to catch up with me.”
“None of that matters though. The point is I do love you, and we need to decide what to do next.”
“What do we need to do?”
“I want to marry you. I don’t want any other man coveting you.”
“You mean King Parker.”