the trivial conversation.
“Well, I’m sure his daughter is glad to have him.”
She fumbled with the bonnet ribbons knotted beneath her chin. When both refused to
give, she set to work on her boots, bending down to unlace the ruined leather shoes.
“Jane,” Lucas murmured, his heart beginning to beat faster. “There is a real possibility
we will be stranded here until the storm passes. I, for one, do not intend to waste
time with idle chatter.”
She stepped out of the right boot, steadying herself against a small table before
removing the left. “There is nothing of importance to discuss, Lucas, I assure you.”
She turned her concentration back to the bonnet ribbons, but once again failed to
part them. “Let’s not speak of things that could ruin our friendship. I cannot be
without you. I must have you—as my friend.”
He took one step toward her and then another.
She retreated until her back settled against the door.
“I don’t believe such a plan will work,” Lucas replied, his pulse throbbing in his
ears. Fear prickled the back of his neck and he lifted a hand to massage it away
“And why is that?” Jane asked, a tremor in her voice.
“Because I cannot have you only as a friend, Jane. I want you as my wife—no, I
need
you to be my wife,” he answered, close enough to touch her.
He gently moved her hands away and took up the ribbons, deftly unknotting the wet
silk and removing her bonnet. “I am terrified of my feelings for you, Jane. Have been
since that night in London. That’s ridiculous, isn’t it? God, I’ve been such a coward.
Can you forgive me?”
“I don’t know that I can,” she murmured, looking up at him with her eyes full of wonder.
“Do you mean to tell me that all of this,” she paused, gesturing with a sweep of her
hand to indicate the cottage and the snow-covered landscape beyond its small, square
windows. “Nearly freezing to death, riding in my morning gown atop Flicker … coming
within moments of allowing a man I do not love to court me. All of it could have been
avoided if only you’d not been so afraid?”
“I cannot say how sorry I am,” Lucas answered, bowing his head with regret.
Jane lifted his chin with her finger and forced him to look up at her. Tears danced
just at the corners of her blue eyes. “No. I do not want your sorrow, Lucas. I’ve
waited all my life for you to realize how perfect I am for you. Such patience deserves
a monumental declaration of love—complete with groveling at the end, if deemed necessary.
And it must begin with ‘I love you, Jane Merriweather.’ ”
He blew out a breath in sweet relief and grinned like a silly, foolish schoolboy.
“I love you, Jane Merriweather. I do. Though it has taken me a very long time to realize
just how perfect you are for me, please know that my fruitless search the world over
for happiness only makes this moment that much more important. I want to take care
of you, to build a life with you, to grow old with you, Jane. You are my home, if
you’ll have me.”
Jane placed her soft, delicate palms on his face and drew him to her, her tears now
flowing freely. “You do not need to ask, Lucas. I love you. That will never change.”
He reverently touched his lips to hers, drinking in the truth and sheer beauty of
the moment.
Jane shivered against him and leaned in closer, her sodden pelisse touching his bare
skin.
Lucas backed up, taking Jane with him. “Come warm yourself by the fire. I’ll find
a quilt for you.”
Jane untied her mantle and let it drop to the carpet. “But you already have one,”
she replied, removing her sodden gloves. “Surely it is big enough to share.”
Lucas watched as she slowly turned her back, then looked at him over her shoulder.
“Will you see to my buttons?”
His cock hardened at her words. “Jane …” His mouth seemed entirely separated from
his brain, logical thinking far beyond
“Well, I’m sure his daughter is glad to have him.”
She fumbled with the bonnet ribbons knotted beneath her chin. When both refused to
give, she set to work on her boots, bending down to unlace the ruined leather shoes.
“Jane,” Lucas murmured, his heart beginning to beat faster. “There is a real possibility
we will be stranded here until the storm passes. I, for one, do not intend to waste
time with idle chatter.”
She stepped out of the right boot, steadying herself against a small table before
removing the left. “There is nothing of importance to discuss, Lucas, I assure you.”
She turned her concentration back to the bonnet ribbons, but once again failed to
part them. “Let’s not speak of things that could ruin our friendship. I cannot be
without you. I must have you—as my friend.”
He took one step toward her and then another.
She retreated until her back settled against the door.
“I don’t believe such a plan will work,” Lucas replied, his pulse throbbing in his
ears. Fear prickled the back of his neck and he lifted a hand to massage it away
“And why is that?” Jane asked, a tremor in her voice.
“Because I cannot have you only as a friend, Jane. I want you as my wife—no, I
need
you to be my wife,” he answered, close enough to touch her.
He gently moved her hands away and took up the ribbons, deftly unknotting the wet
silk and removing her bonnet. “I am terrified of my feelings for you, Jane. Have been
since that night in London. That’s ridiculous, isn’t it? God, I’ve been such a coward.
Can you forgive me?”
“I don’t know that I can,” she murmured, looking up at him with her eyes full of wonder.
“Do you mean to tell me that all of this,” she paused, gesturing with a sweep of her
hand to indicate the cottage and the snow-covered landscape beyond its small, square
windows. “Nearly freezing to death, riding in my morning gown atop Flicker … coming
within moments of allowing a man I do not love to court me. All of it could have been
avoided if only you’d not been so afraid?”
“I cannot say how sorry I am,” Lucas answered, bowing his head with regret.
Jane lifted his chin with her finger and forced him to look up at her. Tears danced
just at the corners of her blue eyes. “No. I do not want your sorrow, Lucas. I’ve
waited all my life for you to realize how perfect I am for you. Such patience deserves
a monumental declaration of love—complete with groveling at the end, if deemed necessary.
And it must begin with ‘I love you, Jane Merriweather.’ ”
He blew out a breath in sweet relief and grinned like a silly, foolish schoolboy.
“I love you, Jane Merriweather. I do. Though it has taken me a very long time to realize
just how perfect you are for me, please know that my fruitless search the world over
for happiness only makes this moment that much more important. I want to take care
of you, to build a life with you, to grow old with you, Jane. You are my home, if
you’ll have me.”
Jane placed her soft, delicate palms on his face and drew him to her, her tears now
flowing freely. “You do not need to ask, Lucas. I love you. That will never change.”
He reverently touched his lips to hers, drinking in the truth and sheer beauty of
the moment.
Jane shivered against him and leaned in closer, her sodden pelisse touching his bare
skin.
Lucas backed up, taking Jane with him. “Come warm yourself by the fire. I’ll find
a quilt for you.”
Jane untied her mantle and let it drop to the carpet. “But you already have one,”
she replied, removing her sodden gloves. “Surely it is big enough to share.”
Lucas watched as she slowly turned her back, then looked at him over her shoulder.
“Will you see to my buttons?”
His cock hardened at her words. “Jane …” His mouth seemed entirely separated from
his brain, logical thinking far beyond
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