The Gift of Love (The Book of Love #8) - Meara Platt Page 0,30
noble Captain Brayden comes to the rescue of the sad spinster and endures a lifetime of unhappiness for the sake of her honor and his precious navy budget?”
“What? Where do you come up with such nonsense?”
Her mind was in too much of a muddle to take in what he’d just told her. “I would never hold you to any such promise. How could you think I would force you to marry me if you did not love me?”
“You wouldn’t be forcing me.”
“Of course, I would. Do you not see? This is your protective instincts flaring up again.”
She glanced at the book, resting quietly on the desk, waiting to be picked up and read. Her eyes widened in horror. “It’s that thing. This is why you are speaking so oddly.”
“What thing? What are you talking about?”
“The Book of Love. It is making you do this...spout ridiculous notions of marriage.”
He growled as he rose and lifted her up along with him. “Are you too blind to see how lovely you are?”
“Are you so overcome by duty that you would sacrifice your happiness for the sake of a budget?”
“It isn’t just a budget. Lives are at stake over this. Even so, you will never be a duty to me. You’ll just have to trust me, Dahlia. Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do. But that is hardly the point.”
“It is entirely the point.” He drew her into the circle of his arms, holding her with a gentle intimacy she’d never experienced before. He touched her cheek with a delicacy she’d never felt before. “Close your eyes,” he said with a gruff rasp to his voice.
“Why?”
“Are all Farthingales this obstinate? I want you to close your eyes because I am going to kiss you.”
“But you–”
“Do you never stop talking?” He lowered his head and gently pressed his lips to hers, catching her with an open mouth just as he had done when she was his Queen Pea, and he was her King Bean. But this was not like their first kiss, for this was no light, sweet brush, and he did not draw away after a moment.
Instead, he deepened the kiss, slowly heightening the exquisite pressure until his lips were devouring hers, his mouth warm and provocative as it melded with hers and coaxed a muffled sigh out of her.
She felt his tongue dip into her mouth, teasing and softly exploring, sweetly invading and rousing sensations she never imagined possible. She could lose her heart to this man. Everything about him overwhelmed her. His exquisite touch. The taste of his kisses. His soft growl as he conquered her resistance.
His kiss held the promise of something deep and abiding.
Or was she mistaken? The humiliated spinster and the handsome-as-sin Royal Navy commanding officer? It could not be.
How could he feel this way about her?
They’d hardly started reading the book, and yet he was kissing her as though he loved her with all his heart.
He was kissing her as every girl dreamed to be kissed.
Tears began to stream down her face. Yet another reason why he could not love her. She was a watering pot.
“Queen Pea, why the tears?” he whispered against her lips.
Her response was to kiss him back with a breathless ardor to match his own. How could she not be swept away by this man? This was Ronan, her valiant gladiator, doing what he thought was right, convincing himself it was more important to protect her than to seek his own happiness.
Even if he enjoyed their kisses, it signified nothing. He would feel the same about a thousand other women. Wasn’t this the point of a man’s low brain? To seek out as many desirable women as possible and mate?
But she wanted true love, not merely the pretense of it.
She wanted the gift of it.
The treasure of knowing his kisses were for her and her alone. The pleasure of seeing his eyes turn to starlight and a smile cross his face whenever she entered a room. The heat of his body turned to flames because he wanted her so badly.
Was he offering all this with his kiss?
“Queen Pea,” he said in an anguished whisper, drawing his mouth away from hers ever so slightly, “I’ll never hurt you. I promise.”
He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb lightly across it to wipe away her tears.
She rested her head against his chest, amazed that something so hard and solid could feel this divine. “Ronan, I’ll help you out. I would never forgive myself if I put