Lenore did not know where to start. Struggling to command her voice, she waved at him. “Come here if you want my answer.”
Slowly expelling the breath he had been holding, Jason sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Did she have to make this quite so difficult? He was on tenterhooks, more nervous than he had ever been in his life. Reaching for his robe, he stood and shrugged into it, belting it loosely before crossing the few yards to stand before her.
Fingers clutching the white cards she could not yet believe were real, Lenore waited until he towered over her before asking, her voice a shaky whisper, “Do you really love me?”
Her throat had constricted; tears were not far away.
Jason’s heart stopped. Desperately, his eyes searched her face, trying to discover what she meant by her question, what further assurance it was in his power to give her. From his heart came the answer. Without thinking, he went down on one knee before her, capturing one small hand in his. “Lenore, I arranged our marriage for all the wrong reasons but I never asked you to marry me. Will you marry me, my dear, not for all my rational reasons, but for the right reason—because you love me—and I love you?”
Tears obliterated Lenore’s vision. “Oh, Jason!” she sobbed.
Immediately, Jason was on his feet but before he could do anything, Lenore threw herself into his arms, clinging to him, the white cards scattering like confetti about them.
Bemused, Jason closed his arms about his sobbing wife, burying his face in her golden hair. “Sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“It’s—” Lenore sniffed, then gulped. “It’s just too beautiful,” she wailed, as a fresh flood threatened. “Oh,” she said, struggling to wipe her eyes on his sleeve. “This is dreadful. I’m not a watering pot, truly.”
“Thank God for that,” Jason replied. The fact that, despite her unconventional response, he had got the answer he wanted was slowly sinking in. The relief was enormous. Wrapping his arms about his snuffling wife, he lifted her and carried her back to their bed.
Snuggling back beneath the eiderdown, Lenore wiped her eyes with the lace edge of the coverlet. Her thoughts were whirling, a disjointed jumble of emotions buffeted her. She blinked at her husband as he climbed back into bed beside her, stretching out on his back, his head on the pillows. He shut his eyes, as if worn out. “You really do love me?” she asked, her voice rather small.
Exasperated, Jason groaned. “Lenore—no man in his right mind makes a cake of himself as I have over you without a bloody good reason. Now for God’s sake come and put me out of my misery and convince me my reason was, in truth, the very best.”
He reached for her. Lenore gave a last watery giggle and, without further ado, devoted herself to convincing her arrogant rake of a husband that she did indeed love him.
Beyond all reason.
* * * * *
The Wedding Party
Kasey Michaels
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
WAS HE GOING TO KISS HER? He very often looked at her as if he wanted to kiss her. He had kissed her, to seal their betrothal.
But that had been a month ago. More precisely, thirty-two days, ten hours and some minutes ago. There were no clocks in the gardens, of course, but she was fairly certain of at least the hour.
You’d really have to think it was more than time he kissed her again—if yo
u thought of this sort of thing. Which Alana Wallingford did.
Almost constantly.