The Angels' Share (The Bourbon Kings #2) - J. R. Ward Page 0,50
yes, she was a little breathless.
He nodded. “And can I just tell you? Your smile right now is one for the ages.”
“You know”—she passed her hands through his hair—“I’m not one of those women who planned their wedding when they were five.”
“This is not a surprise.”
“I’m not even sure I want to wear a dress, and I’m not doing it in a church.”
“I’m an atheist, so that works.”
“And the smaller, the better. That last thing I’m interested in is some big society event.”
He swept his hands up and down the backs of her legs, kneading, stroking, turning her on. “Got it.”
“And your divorce—”
“It’s an annulment, really. And Samuel T. is taking care of all that.”
“Good—”
As Lane raised his hand like he was in school, she said, “Mmm?”
“Is that a yes?”
Bending down, she pressed her lips to his. “It absolutely is a yes.”
Next thing she knew, he took her onto the chaise lounge, his heavy, warm body rolling on top of hers, and then they were kissing deeply and laughing and kissing some more. And then she was naked and so was he.
She gasped his name as he entered her, and oh, God, he was good, penetrating her nice and deep, stretching her, dominating her. She’d never told him how much she liked the feel of him on her, how she craved the times when he took her wrists and held her down, how the sessions where he was greedy and a little rough turned her on.
But he knew.
Then again, Lane knew everything about her, and this proposal was perfect. Nothing showy, or fancy, and no, she didn’t want some big diamond from him, either. All she needed was him. All she wanted was the two of them together.
So they were starting this engagement off on the right foot as far as she was concerned.
Yes, Lane was surrounded by chaos. Yes, there was no way of knowing how any of this was going to shake out. And no, most women with half a brain wouldn’t sign on for someone with his background—not even the gold diggers, now.
But love had a funny way of giving you faith in the one who loved you back. And nothing was guaranteed in life, neither riches nor health. At the end of the day, you just had to let yourself go … and the best place to land was in the arms of a good man.
As pleasure rocketed through her, Lizzie called out his name and felt his head drop into her neck as he cursed and jerked deep inside of her. So beautiful. So perfect. Especially as he hugged her close afterward.
“God, I love you,” he said in her ear. “You’re the only thing that makes sense right now.”
“I’m not scared,” she whispered. “You and I are going to figure this out. Somehow. And we’re going to be okay. That’s all that matters to me.”
Inching back, his blue eyes were the stuff of romance novels, reverent, sincere, full of love. “I’m going to get you a ring.”
“I don’t want one.” She stroked his hair again, flattening it where she had messed it up. “I don’t like anything on my hands or my wrists. Not with my job.”
“So a diamond watch is out?”
“Definitely—”
His phone rang in his pocket and he shook his head. “I don’t care who that is. I’m not—”
“You should probably—”
He settled the issue by kissing her, his body starting to move again. And Lizzie went along with it. There were so many worse things in life than making love with your new fiancé on a warm Kentucky night.
The problems would be waiting for them when they were finished. This little slice of heaven? Was only for the two of them.
A party no one else was invited to.
SEVENTEEN
By the time the crème caramel was cleared, Sutton was ready to scream. It wasn’t the conversation. Governor Dagney Boone and Thomas Georgetow, the president of the University of Charlemont, were great company, two of the most powerful men in the state bantering back and forth like the old friends they were. The other people around the table were also wonderful: Georgetow’s wife, Beryline, was as Southern and lovely as a sweet tea on a hot afternoon, and the Reverend and Mrs. Nyce, the leaders of the largest Baptist community in the state, were as solid as granite and as uplifting as a sunbeam.
Under any other circumstances, she would have enjoyed the evening. Sure, there was an underlying purpose to it, but they were all good people,