He studied Janet intently, not quite able to believe that she was almost his. She was so beautiful she took his breath away. He’d be counting his blessings till the day he died.

“How soon?” he asked.

“How soon what?”

“When can we get married? You want a big to-do or can we sneak off and keep it from those brats of mine?”

“It doesn’t have to be big, but I want those wonderful children and grandchildren of yours to be there. We’re going to start this off as a family,” she insisted. “No more secrets. Understood?”

“Don’t look at me with those big brown eyes of yours,” he accused. “I’m not the one who was hiding what I was up to. You knew from day one what I wanted from you.”

She grinned and looped her arms around his neck. “And what was that?”

“This,” he said, and settled his mouth over hers. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips until they parted. The taste of her was sweet as peppermints and far, far more intoxicating.

“If you hadn’t said yes soon,” he declared when his breathing was finally even again, “I’d have had to kidnap you and haul you off to some justice of the peace.”

“And what if I still hadn’t been willing?”

“I’d have used all of my considerable influence to see that the ceremony came off anyway,” he declared, liking the immediate flare of temper in her eyes.

“You can’t expect to bully me into giving you your way, Harlan Adams.”

“Who’s talking about bullying?” he said, closing a hand gently over her breast and teasing the nipple until he could feel it harden even through the silk blouse and the lacy bra he knew was underneath. “There are other ways to tame a skittish filly.”

His expression sobered then. “I love you, Janet Runningbear. I’ll make you happy. For all my teasing and taunting, you can count on that as a solemn promise.”

“I love you, too, Harlan.” The smile she turned on him then was radiant. A bride’s smile. “It ought to be downright fascinating, don’t you think?”

“What?”

“Our marriage.”

He grinned back at her. “I’m counting on it.”

Janet stood at the back of the church barely a week later and fussed with her white antique lace dress. “Are you sure I look okay?” she asked Jenny for the thousandth time.

“You look beautiful, Mom. Every hair is in place,” she added, anticipating Janet’s next question. She twirled in her own dark rose dress. “How about me? Do I look grown-up?”

“Too grown-up,” Janet declared, wondering where the time had flown.