Fantasy 02 - Forbidden Fantasy by Cheryl Holt

Author:Cheryl Holt [Holt, Cheryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical
Published: 2011-07-15T18:47:25+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Ian stood by the window and stared out at the horizon that was swiftly growing brighter, the stars fading with the onset of morning. Caro was asleep in his bed, and he needed to wake her and see her safely home, but he couldn't bear to rouse her.

He rubbed a hand over the center of his chest. His heart was aching, and he didn't care for the sensation. They'd rutted like wild animals, and on three separate occasions he'd spilled himself inside her. Throughout the passionate interlude, he'd been so overwhelmed that he hadn't restrained himself, but with sanity and daylight creeping in, he was panicked.

Oh, what was he to do? What if he'd planted a babe?

He couldn't send Caro back to her fiancé and her parents. Yet, how could he keep her with him? The only way would be to marry her. Was he prepared to propose? It was the appropriate remedy, but he couldn't imagine asking her, nor could he envision her accepting.

What had he to offer a woman like Caro?

He had an income that was sufficient for a bachelor, but it couldn't begin to compare to her father's fortune. If she allied herself with him, her mode of living would fall substantially. Could she tolerate such a change? Plus, any union between them would cause a terrible scandal.

He had no lofty acquaintances to stand with them during the tumult. She'd be shunned, cut off from all that was familiar, and the shame would kill her.

Was he worth it? He didn't have to pose the question, for he knew the answer: categorically not.

He went to the bed and eased a hip onto the mattress. She stirred and smiled. She looked rumbled and adorable, smug with her seduction and pleased with what she'd wrought.

"What time is it?" she inquired.

"Almost five."

"I should be going," but she didn't make any move to rise. '

"I don't want you to leave." "I have to. You know that."

She sat up, the blankets clutched to her bosom, her hair spilling about her shoulders. She laid her palm on his cheek, and for a moment, they tarried, neither of them able to speak.

Then she urged him aside and climbed to the floor. In silence, she strolled about, scooping up her clothes and tugging them on as he did the same. Eventually, they were dressed, her cloak fastened, the hood up. There was nothing left to do but escort her out, but they couldn't seem to depart.

He dawdled, awkward as an adolescent.

For the prior twelve years, her presence in his world had been a constant, and he couldn't let her walk away. Not without a fight. She'd come to mean too much to him, and he couldn't picture a future without her in it.

Did she feel any similar sentiment? Would she be willing to alter the course of her life for him?

He had to know her opinion, and if he didn't seek it now, when it was very likely the only chance he'd ever have, he'd forever wonder how she would have replied.

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