And Hugh loved her too much to ever let her go.

I’m a selfish bastard.

“What?” Sarah murmured, not moving her head from the cradle of his chest.

Had he said that aloud?

“Hugh?” She shifted her position, her chin rising so that she could see his face.

“I can’t let you go,” he whispered.

“What are you talking about?” She moved again, pulling away, just enough so that she could look into his eyes.

She was frowning. He did not want to make her frown.

“I can’t let you go,” he said again, shaking his head in a slow, tiny motion.

“We’re getting married,” she said. Cautiously, like she wasn’t sure why she was saying it. “You don’t have to let me go.”

“I should. I can’t be the man you need.”

She touched his cheek. “Isn’t that for me to decide?”

He took a deep, shuddering breath, closing his eyes against the awfulness of memory. “I hate that you had to see my father today.”

“I hate it, too, but it’s done.”

He stared at her in amazement. When had she become so calm? Not five minutes earlier, she had been sobbing and he had been soothing her, and now she was clear-eyed, watching him with such peace and wisdom he could almost believe that their future was bright and uncomplicated.

“Thank you,” he said.

She tilted her head to the side.

“For today. For so much more than today, but for now I’ll stick with today.”

“I—” Her mouth hung open in an indecisive oval, and then she said, “It seems a very strange thing about which to say, You’re welcome.”

He searched her face, although for what he was not certain. Perhaps he just wanted to look at her, at the deep chocolate warmth of her eyes and her wide, lush mouth that understood so well how to smile. He looked at her in amazement, and in wonder, as he recalled the fierce warrior of that afternoon. If she defended him so well, he could not imagine how she might be as a mother, with her own flesh and blood to protect.

“I love you,” he said, the words tumbling from his lips. He was not sure he’d meant to say them, but now he could not stop. “I don’t deserve you, but I love you, and I know you never thought to marry someone under such circumstances, but I vow that I will devote the rest of my life toward your happiness.”

He took her hands to his lips and kissed them fervently, nearly undone by the force of his emotions. “Sarah Pleinsworth,” he said, “will you marry me?”

Tears glistened on her lashes, and her lips quivered as she said, “We already—”

“But I did not ask you,” he cut in. “You deserve to be asked. I don’t have a ring, but I can get one later, and—”

“I don’t need a ring,” she blurted out. “I just need you.”

He touched her cheek, his hand softly caressing her skin, and then—

He kissed her. It came without thought—this urge, this hunger. His hand sank into the thick tumble of her hair as his lips devoured hers.

“Wait!” she gasped.

He pulled back, but just an inch.

“I love you, too,” she whispered. “You didn’t give me a chance to say it.”

If he had had any hope of controlling his desire, it was lost in that moment. He kissed her mouth, her ear, her throat, and when she was on her back and he was over her, he took the delicate tie that held her gown together between his teeth and pulled open the knot.

She laughed, a throaty, wonderful sound that nevertheless startled him in so heated a moment.

“It was so easily undone,” she said with a helpless smile. “I could not help but compare it to your father’s knots this morning. And we’re in bed, too!”

He couldn’t help but grin, even though bed was the last place he ever wanted to think about his father.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a giggle. “I couldn’t help it.”

“I wouldn’t love you so well if you could,” he teased.

“What does that mean?”

“Just that you have a marvelous ability to find humor in the most unexpected of places.”

She touched his nose. “I found humor in you.”

“Precisely.”

Her lips came together in a rather satisfied smile. “I think— Oh!”

Clearly, she had just noticed his hand sliding up her leg.

“You were saying?” he murmured.

She made a delightful little noise when he found the soft flesh of her thigh, then said in a breathy voice, “I was going to say that I think we should not have a lengthy engagement.”

His hand crept higher. “Really?”

“For the sake of . . . Daniel . . . of course, and— Hugh!”

“Definitely for my sake,” he said, taking her earlobe lightly between his teeth. But he rather thought her exclamation had a bit more to do with the soft heat he had just discovered between her legs.

“We need to show that we mean to keep our side of the bargain,” she said, her words punctuated by soft squeals and moans.

“Mmmm-hmmm.” He let his lips trail softly down her neck as he pondered the wisdom of sliding one finger into her. He had just enough presence of mind to estimate that they had about thirty minutes before her cousin returned, certainly not enough time to properly make love to her.

But it was more than enough time to give her pleasure.

“Sarah?” he murmured.

“Yes?”

He touched his fingers to her core.

“Hugh!”