Fiona couldn’t get enough air in her lungs. What Charles had just done to her body, her still humming body, had been amazing. “You’re a banker,” she whispered, trying and failing to lift her body off of him. She was draped over his chest, one leg on either side of his hips in a definitely unlady-like position. But she simply didn’t have the strength to move. Not yet anyway.
Charles chuckled and, because her cheek was laying against his chest, she felt as well as heard that sound, smiling as the love she felt for this man swelled up inside of her. It almost made her cry, those feelings she had for him. They scared her, made her nervous. But there wasn’t anything she could do about them. Nothing except savor all of these precious moments he was willing to share with her.
When she felt his fingers trail up her spine, she gasped.
“What does me being a banker have to do with anything?” he asked, moving so that she was lined up properly with him once more.
She blinked, enjoying this position just as much as the previous one. “You’re Charles Henson the Third,” she explained as if that meant something.
“And?” he prompted.
“And…” she said, drawing out the word, thinking it should be completely obvious to him what she was talking about. “And you’re ultra-conservative!” she explained finally.
Charles froze for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed. “Just because I’m a banker doesn’t mean I’m not a man, Fiona.”
She rolled her eyes and received a playful spank for that. “Yes, but you’re rigid.”
Charles chuckled. “Yes. I’m glad you noticed that about me.”
Fiona gasped when she discovered that he wasn’t talking just figuratively. He’d meant that statement literally. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she sighed, but didn’t want to figure it out. Her next thought stopped her and she put her hands on shoulders that were much more muscular than she’d ever thought possible. “Wait!”
Charles ignored her comment, too intent on making love to her again. He wasn’t sure why, but there was something about Fiona and he couldn’t get enough of her. “I’m not going to wait, Fi,” he said. “And you’re going to have to marry me.”
Fiona’s heart melted with the endearing nickname. Her grandfather had always been so formal, never shortening her name for any reason and he’d shout at anyone who dared. But it sounded really sweet when Charles said it. She ignored his proposal simply because it was easier to do that than to answer him again. There was no way he could marry her. He was a banker, after all.
For the next few hours, she followed in his lead, not bothering to figure anything out because, when Charles was in her bed, his touch and the way he moved blocked out any rational thought.