It just
happens.”
Behind her the ham sizzled, forgotten until
the smell of burning meat was too obvious for even their eager
kisses to cover up. After Thomas dragged the iron skillet from the
stove, he and Margaret decided they weren’t hungry after all... at
least not for food.
Margaret took Thomas’s hand and led him
upstairs to the room at the far end of the hall. It was cold,
though neither noticed as they fell onto the bed together.
“You will marry me, won’t you?” Thomas’s head
was propped on his open palm. The fingers of his other hand traced
an imaginary line between Margaret’s breasts. It was barely dawn
and they’d made love and slept and awakened to make love again. He
felt replete, wonderful, and thoroughly in love.
“Are you sure you want me? I am a
kidnapper.” Her smile was teasing, and matched his.
“You may kidnap me anytime.” He leaned
forward brushing his lips against hers, then straightened quickly.
“Was that a yes?”
Her sigh was long and heartfelt. Before he
could see the tears glistening in her eyes she turned her head
away. “I’m afraid it wouldn’t be a good idea.” She hurried on
before he could voice the argument she knew he would have. “I’m not
the kind of woman you deserve as a wife. The orphanage is very
important to me.”
“I don’t recall asking you to give it
up.”
She twisted her head to look at his
expression.
“If anything I planned to help you with it.
All I ask is that you live with me, for I don’t want to be without
you.”
“But I have very strong beliefs... about
women’s suffrage, and—”
“I admire that about you.” Thomas splayed his
hand to cover the tips of her breasts. “Among other things.” His
grin faded. “Don’t you want to marry me, Maggie?”
“Oh yes, more than anything, but—” His
fingers covered her lips, silencing her.
“Then we won’t worry about anything else. My
father once told me that the Blackstone men were strong because of
the women they marry. His grandmother told him that. I think it’s
true. And I think you’ll make it true for me.”
Thomas cuddled her close on the chilly
Christmas morning. “We’ll work things out. We have love, Maggie.
And that’s the greatest miracle of all.”
“God’s blood, I couldn’t have handled that
better myself.”
“Jack?” When he heard the voice Thomas bolted
to sitting in the bed, pulling his sleep-tousled bride-to-be with
him.
“Who’s Jack? What’s wrong, Thomas?” Margaret
gently brushed a lock of dark hair from his forehead.
“Didn’t you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
Thomas studied her concerned face in the
grainy morning light. “You didn’t...? I mean... A pirate...?” With
each word he uttered she appeared more bewildered. Thomas took a
deep breath, then he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
Together they settled back against the pillow. “I must have been
dreaming,” he murmured. But in his heart he knew the truth.
Dear
Readers,
Okay, I admit it. I had a really hard time
leaving the Blackstone Men of the Sea of Charleston. After all, for
nearly two years I’d worried about their perils, cheered their
triumphs, and happily sighed as each and every one of the
Blackstone men found love with the perfect woman for them. So when
I was asked to write a short story, and was told, yes, it could be
about the Blackstones, I jumped at the chance. Sea of Christmas
Miracles to me was like the cherry on top of the sundae,
(chocolate fudge, of course), it just made everything complete. I
hope you feel the same way.
So, what is the best way to move on from the
Blackstone Trilogy? Why, to start reading books about the
irresistible MacQuiad Brothers of course: My Savage Heart , My Seaswept Heart , and My Heavenly Heart are
available now on e-book format.
I love to hear from fellow readers. Please
visit my website at www.christinedorsey.com .
You can also visit my Facebook
readers page and follow me on Twitter .
To Happy
happens.”
Behind her the ham sizzled, forgotten until
the smell of burning meat was too obvious for even their eager
kisses to cover up. After Thomas dragged the iron skillet from the
stove, he and Margaret decided they weren’t hungry after all... at
least not for food.
Margaret took Thomas’s hand and led him
upstairs to the room at the far end of the hall. It was cold,
though neither noticed as they fell onto the bed together.
“You will marry me, won’t you?” Thomas’s head
was propped on his open palm. The fingers of his other hand traced
an imaginary line between Margaret’s breasts. It was barely dawn
and they’d made love and slept and awakened to make love again. He
felt replete, wonderful, and thoroughly in love.
“Are you sure you want me? I am a
kidnapper.” Her smile was teasing, and matched his.
“You may kidnap me anytime.” He leaned
forward brushing his lips against hers, then straightened quickly.
“Was that a yes?”
Her sigh was long and heartfelt. Before he
could see the tears glistening in her eyes she turned her head
away. “I’m afraid it wouldn’t be a good idea.” She hurried on
before he could voice the argument she knew he would have. “I’m not
the kind of woman you deserve as a wife. The orphanage is very
important to me.”
“I don’t recall asking you to give it
up.”
She twisted her head to look at his
expression.
“If anything I planned to help you with it.
All I ask is that you live with me, for I don’t want to be without
you.”
“But I have very strong beliefs... about
women’s suffrage, and—”
“I admire that about you.” Thomas splayed his
hand to cover the tips of her breasts. “Among other things.” His
grin faded. “Don’t you want to marry me, Maggie?”
“Oh yes, more than anything, but—” His
fingers covered her lips, silencing her.
“Then we won’t worry about anything else. My
father once told me that the Blackstone men were strong because of
the women they marry. His grandmother told him that. I think it’s
true. And I think you’ll make it true for me.”
Thomas cuddled her close on the chilly
Christmas morning. “We’ll work things out. We have love, Maggie.
And that’s the greatest miracle of all.”
“God’s blood, I couldn’t have handled that
better myself.”
“Jack?” When he heard the voice Thomas bolted
to sitting in the bed, pulling his sleep-tousled bride-to-be with
him.
“Who’s Jack? What’s wrong, Thomas?” Margaret
gently brushed a lock of dark hair from his forehead.
“Didn’t you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
Thomas studied her concerned face in the
grainy morning light. “You didn’t...? I mean... A pirate...?” With
each word he uttered she appeared more bewildered. Thomas took a
deep breath, then he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
Together they settled back against the pillow. “I must have been
dreaming,” he murmured. But in his heart he knew the truth.
Dear
Readers,
Okay, I admit it. I had a really hard time
leaving the Blackstone Men of the Sea of Charleston. After all, for
nearly two years I’d worried about their perils, cheered their
triumphs, and happily sighed as each and every one of the
Blackstone men found love with the perfect woman for them. So when
I was asked to write a short story, and was told, yes, it could be
about the Blackstones, I jumped at the chance. Sea of Christmas
Miracles to me was like the cherry on top of the sundae,
(chocolate fudge, of course), it just made everything complete. I
hope you feel the same way.
So, what is the best way to move on from the
Blackstone Trilogy? Why, to start reading books about the
irresistible MacQuiad Brothers of course: My Savage Heart , My Seaswept Heart , and My Heavenly Heart are
available now on e-book format.
I love to hear from fellow readers. Please
visit my website at www.christinedorsey.com .
You can also visit my Facebook
readers page and follow me on Twitter .
To Happy
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