Well, of course she cared. She wanted him to love her with the intensity of emotion she felt for him. But maybe he would learn to love her if they were married. She might be miserable if she married a man who didn't love her, but she knew she'd be miserable without him. Maybe she should just close her eyes, jump in, and hope for the best.

Or maybe, she thought with a frown, she ought to remember that he hadn't said more than two words to her since they'd made love, and certainly nothing about marriage.

“Why the long face?” Blake asked, idly stroking her hair with his fingers.

She shook her head. “Nothing. Just woolgathering.”

“About me, I imagine,” he said quietly. “And my intentions.”

She drew back in horror. “I would never dream of manipulating you into—”

“Shush,” he said with soft authority. “I know.”

“You do?”

“We will be married as soon as I can obtain a special license.”

Her heart leaped. “Are you sure?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“A stupid one,” she mumbled. Hadn't she just decided that she didn't care if he wanted to marry her just because it was the right thing to do?

No, that wasn't right. She did care. She was just going to marry him anyway.

“Caroline?” Amusement was evident in his voice.

“Yes?”

“Are you going to answer my question?”

She blinked. “Did you ask me one?”

“I asked you if you would…” He paused. “No, actually I didn't ask.”

Before Caroline realized what he was about, he rolled over and got up on one knee. “Caroline Trent, soon to be Ravenscroft,” he said, “will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

If her eyes hadn't filled with so many tears, she might have actually chuckled at the sight of him proposing to her stark naked. “Yes,” she said, nodding furiously. “Yes, yes, yes.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Good.”

Caroline closed her eyes for a few seconds. She wanted to close off all her senses so that she might savor the moment in her mind. No sight, no touch, no smell—nothing to distract her from the exquisite joy in her heart.

“Caroline?”

“Shhh.” She waved her hand at him and then, a few seconds later, opened her eyes and said, “There. What were you going to say?”

His expression was curious. “What was that all about?”

“Nothing, I—Oh look!” She pointed up at the sky.

“What?” he asked, his eyes following her finger.

“The sky must have cleared up. The stars are out.”

“So they are,” he murmured, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “But then again, you were the one who said they were there all along.”

Caroline squeezed his hand in hers. “Yes,” she agreed. “They were.”

A half hour later they were dressed—albeit rather disheveled—and trying to slip into the house as quietly as possible.

James, however, was waiting in the front hall.

“I told you we should have used the back stairs,” Caroline muttered.