“Marry me tomorrow. Be my wife. That would help me.”

She swallowed. He watched the motion of her throat, intrigued that she would be nervous when he knew she was so committed to him. He stroked his fingers down her throat and felt that convulsive swallowing and then traced her lips with the pad of his thumb and felt them tremble. “What is it, baby?” He kept his voice soft and low, intimate. “Are you afraid?”

She blinked rapidly again. “I just have a difficult time sometimes . . .”

“With . . . ?” he prompted, his hand shaping her breasts again and then sliding down to rub small circles on her belly.

“With believing that a man like you could really be satisfied with a woman like me.”

His hand stilled. He stiffened. “What the hell does that mean, Isabeau?”

Isabeau turned onto her back and stared up at his face, scarred and tough, experience and danger in every line. Although the moonlight spilled across her, he was still hidden in the shadows, something she equated with him. He would always be that shadow man. Rugged. Tough. A little mysterious. And so—so experienced in every way she wasn’t. “Way out of my league.”

His mouth quirked, his smile slow in coming. “You have it backward, honey. I’ve always known you were way out of my league with your innocence and your trust. You’re the most beautiful thing in my life, and I’m not talking about your exceptional body, which I’ll admit I’m quite fond of. You’re everything I want, Isabeau, and you should never feel like you can’t keep up. If anything, it’s the other way around.”

“I’m not talking about intellect here, or even courage. I feel I can be an asset to you, Conner, but here, in bed, I don’t have any experience, other than what you’ve taught me.”

His shaft jerked against her bottom, grew hotter and thicker. He laughed softly. “Feel that, baby? That’s what you do to me. You’re so willing to please me and you follow instructions beautifully. A man wants a woman who gives him her trust and her body without reservation. You do that. I can’t ask for anything more. You aren’t afraid to tell me—or show me what you like. You don’t think that’s a turn-on? To watch you enjoying my body is the biggest turn-on there is. Sex is just sex, Isabeau. Love is different. Love is both mind and body, heart and soul. I don’t know how else to say it. When I’m with you, it isn’t just about my body being satisfied. I’ve had love—your brand of love—and I don’t ever want anything else.”

She rolled back over onto her side and scooted her round, firm bottom tighter into his lap. “Fine then. I accept. Now go to sleep.”

Conner stared down at her, at the long lashes once more veiling her eyes, and he started to laugh. “You’re going to be hell to live with, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, aren’t you going to talk about dresses and suits?”

“I don’t have a dress.”

“Are we getting married naked then? It has its possibilities.”

She laughed softly. “You would think that. No. We’re wearing clothes. Now go to sleep. Talking makes you hard.”

“You make me hard. Looking at you makes me hard. Lying beside you gets me hard. The sound of your voice, the touch of your skin . . .”

She pushed back into him and wiggled, rubbing her buttocks back and forth across his shaft. “Stop! I get the point.”

“So you want to wear clothes. What clothes? We didn’t exactly pack much and your dress has blood all over it. I shredded my clothes when I went to help Jeremiah.”

“I’ll wear my jeans. I brought a change of clothes, jeans and a T-shirt. Well, a tank top, but it will be fine. The point isn’t our clothes, right?”

“So a dress then. And a suit. We’ll have to ask doc where we can come up with something that will work.”

Her laughter was muffled against the pillow. “You’re impossible. I have no idea where we’re supposed to come up with a dress and a suit, but whatever.” Her eyes opened and she looked at him again from over her shoulder. “And I can tell you’re going to go through a lot of clothes. Perhaps you should practice stripping on the run without ruining what you’re wearing.”

“Extreme circumstances call for extreme reaction.”

“Not if I’m the one having to try to repair said clothes. And if you go around ripping your clothes to shreds, what do you think your little brother will do? He’s going to follow your example in all things.”

“Do you think so?” He rolled her over onto her back and swept his hand from her breasts to her thighs, slowing along her flat belly and mound before traveling lower. “I love the feel of your skin.”

“I’m not moving, Conner. If you’re going to . . .” She broke off with a little cry when he dipped his head and swept his tongue along the same path as his hands, this time stopping at the junction between her legs.

She laughed and caught his hair in her hands, holding him there.

16

ISABEAU took the cup of tea from Mary Winters with a small smile. “Conner wants me to find a dress to wear. For some reason it’s really important to him.”

“And it isn’t to you?” Mary asked gently.

Isabeau looked down into the steaming cup. “I don’t want it to be. It isn’t like I have family. My mother died so long ago I barely remember her and my father . . .” She broke off. It wasn’t like she had anyone to walk her down the aisle. The wedding was going to be taking place in the doctor’s backyard right on the edge of the rain forest. White, flowing, traditional dresses wouldn’t make sense anyway. “I think every girl dreams of this day, walking down the aisle with her father, surrounded by family and friends.” She shrugged. “I want to marry Conner, of course, but I pictured it all happening quite differently.”