Tyler grabbed her hair as she passed by. Caught up short, she turned and glared at him.
"Start talking, Evie, or I'll scalp you." Feeling a little more relaxed with the situation, Tyler grinned at the fury on Evie's gorgeous little face. If his assumptions were so wide of the mark that he drew this much wrath, maybe he was better off than he knew.
"You are a despicable, rotten cad, Tyler Monteigne." Evie grabbed her hair and tried to twist it from his grasp. When he wouldn't let go, she tried to tromp his toe, but he moved too fast.
"Let's try this another way." Wrapping his arm around her naked waist, Tyler swung her from the floor and carried her back to the bed again. He sat down on the edge and held her in his lap, although she squirmed furiously in his hold. "This isn't the way I would plan it if I had time to do otherwise, but would you do me the honor of being my wife, Miss Evie?"
That brought her to a halt. She turned widened eyes up to his, but there were no signs of laughter there now. "You don't want a wife," she murmured, repeating his litany of vows. "You don't want a family. You don't want commitment or responsibility."
"Nope," he answered cheerfully. "No sane man does. And I'll avoid them all to my dying day. But I want you, and if you come connected to all those things, well then, I guess I'll just have to take what comes with the package."
Tyler caught her chin between his fingers and forced her to look at him. Her bones were so delicate, he almost felt like a brute, but there was wonder shining back at him from her face and not pain. He dared to go on.
"I'm not Ivanhoe. I'm not even Don Quixote or whatever other mixed-up hero you have in your head. But you're my sunshine. You're the stars that twinkle in the night sky. You're the puppy under my Christmas tree when I was four years old. You're everything I've ever wanted, Evie. And I don't want to be without you ever again. I'll understand if you don't feel the same. I'm not much in the way of husband material. But I don't want you to think that you're anything less than my wife. I would never treat you that way."
Tears trickled down Evie's cheeks. Sliding her arms around his back, she pressed fervent kisses into his bare shoulder. "I don't want to be like Bessie or Miss Priss or any of your other women. I don't want to tie you down, Tyler. I want you to be happy. I don't want to do anything that will make you leave."
Tyler clutched her close and laughter rumbled through his chest. "We're quite a pair, aren't we? You keep sending me away to make me happy, and I keep coming back to keep you happy. Do you think we'll ever get it right?"
"Maybe with practice?" Evie peeked inquisitively upward to be certain he was truly smiling and not despairing over her inadequacy.
"Lots of practice," he agreed, tilting her head so he could kiss her on the lips. Then tasting the sweetness, he pressed for more, until they were both gasping for air.
Leaning her head back against his muscled shoulder, Evie brought her hand up to her chest to control her breathing. Discovering her nakedness, she gasped and looked desperately for a sheet.
Tyler laughed and cupped her breast in one hand. "Don't go playing modest now, Mrs. Monteigne. This is the way I intend to see you every night for the rest of our lives."
A soft flush seeped into Evie's cheeks. She had no clothes on, and she was sitting in the lap of a man wearing only his trousers. She should be grateful he wore that much, she supposed, as her gaze daringly took in the wide expanse of Tyler's chest and her fingers played in the light mat of hair there. She knew he was looking at her, and her nipples puckered in response to his gaze. She wanted to turn and rub them against his chest, but she supposed there were other things that needed to be done before she started that again. She was very aware that Tyler was quite ready to continue their lovemaking.
"We'll have to make certain we have a legal marriage," she warned him, hoping the depressing practicalities would return him to their plight.