She grinned. “Ooh, dangerous suggestion. That leaves the choice wide open.” She thought about the rubies that were his grandmother’s. “What did your grandmother call you?”

“Redmond.” He wrinkled his nose.

“Then I think I’ll call you Hart, as your friends do. Thank you, Hart. And I am honored and delighted to be wearing your grandmother’s beautiful jewels.” She stepped forward, raised herself on her toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

He looked down at her, an odd, intense look in his eyes. “No, it’s I who should thank you.” His voice was husky. Then seeing the question in her eyes, he added, “For marrying me.” He drew her slowly toward him.

Cupping her cheek in one hand he kissed her mouth, a mere brush of skin against skin, the barest whisper of a kiss, but sensation shivered through her, a delicate spiral of pure heat. She leaned in closer, wanting more, and slipped her hands around his waist.

He pulled her hard against him, wrapping his arms around her and tightening his hold so they stood chest to chest, stomach to stomach, thigh to thigh. And mouth to mouth.

His mouth was warm, demanding and she opened to him. The taste of him flooded her senses, potent as brandy.

Moving as one, they moved back toward the bed, kissing. His kisses robbed her of all thought. The backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed and she sank onto the mattress.

He released her and stepped back. Confused, still dazed, she blinked up at him.

His smile was rueful. “I know, but we have a wedding breakfast to attend.” His chest was heaving as though he’d run a mile.

“Oh.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice. “I thought . . .”

“We have all night for that.” His voice was deep, rich as thick dark chocolate with the promise of the night to come.

Gathering her shredded composure, she managed to stand. With shaking hands she tidied her hair in the looking glass, straightened her dress, then turned to go. And met his intense, heated, approving gaze. There was a world of dark promise in that look.

She blushed as red as her dress and the rubies around her neck.

Chapter Eighteen

Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her.

—JANE AUSTEN, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

They were the last to arrive at the wedding breakfast, and George was surprised to see that the guests’ reactions were less about the bride and groom’s lateness, or even the color of her dress, and all about the ruby set she was now wearing.

Aunt Agatha marched up to her saying, “I cannot believe the spectacle you made of yourself—of us all—” She broke off, her eyes bulging, then produced her lorgnette and took a closer look.

“The famous Hartley parure! How did you get that?”