Page 49 of Gentle Persuasion

He pushed the door inward, and what he saw pulled him into the room in a panic.

Her suitcases were open on the bed, some souvenirs she’d been accumulating were arrayed on table and bed, and some extra clothes were draped across a chair.

“Can’t you sleep?” she asked without looking up. She didn’t wait for his answer. “Me either. I got to thinking about what I’d accumulated since my arrival and wondered if I’d forgotten a gift for anyone. You know how it is…there’s always a few friends back home who expect you to bring them a—”

“No!”

His denial was loud and sharp.

She stopped, turned around, and looked up. There was fear in his eyes.

“What?” she asked, and shrugged, sweeping her arm toward the stuff on her bed. “Don’t you ever take back little gifts for—?”

“You can’t,” he whispered, and pulled her into his arms.

“I can’t what?” Debbie asked, struggling away from his grip. “I can’t take back gifts, or I can’t—”

“You can’t go.”

She stilled. Her pulse accelerated, and she closed her eyes, willing herself not to hope that he meant what she thought he meant. Then she looked up.

“Basically, the reason I came no longer exists. Your father is nearly well,” she said softly. “No one’s given me a reason not to leave.”

Cole stared at the truth. It was hanging in the shadows of her eyes, accusing him and reminding him that he’d taken from this lady, but he’d given nothing back.

“I will stop you. I am giving you a reason.”

His hands tightened at her shoulders as he leaned forward and swept his mouth across her lips. A faint memory of mint and roses clung to her skin, remnants of her nightly rituals. His mouth coaxed, and her lips opened beneath his touch. Slowly, in spite of herself, Debbie acquiesced. He drank from her sweetness and then couldn’t suppress a groan as she tore herself away from his kiss.

“This is not a reason,” she gasped. “This is pure, unadulterated need. There’s no denying that sparks fly between us. But I choose not to live my life waiting for sparks. I know they can start fires, but you have to remember that fires always, finally, burn out.”

“I love you.”

The words came quietly, slipping from his lips as naturally and easily as breath is drawn in, and Cole wondered why he’d feared their coming.

She stopped. Motion ceased. For one long moment, time hung suspended, waiting for her reaction.

“Oh, Cole.” Her voice shook. Debbie blinked, trying furiously not to cry. But it was hopeless. Her tears bubbled and fell.

“Don’t cry,” he begged as he scooped her up in his arms. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He feathered tiny kisses of repentance across her face.

“You win.” Defeat was in her voice.

“I don’t want to win, lady. I just don’t want to lose.”

He swept aside her neatly folded piles of packages and clothing, and fell into the middle of the bed with her beneath him. Her tears were on his face and her hands around his heart. The feel of her beneath him was more than he could stand. He wanted to come in. He’d been outside alone too long.

“Make love to me, Cole,” Debbie whispered as her hands traced the strong outline of his shoulder blades.

“It would be my pleasure,” he said. “And I promise, it will also be yours. Just don’t ever leave me, lady.”

“I promise,” Debbie whispered. She looked up into dark eyes full of shadows and passion. “The lights are still on.”

“When I’m with you, my lady, there is always light.”

Poignantly, passionately, Cole began to touch her. And when she lay unclothed before him, bathed in the soft, muted glow of the lamp, he bowed his head at her beauty and wanted to shout with the joy of knowing she belonged to him.

“I love you so much,” Debbie said, and lifted her arms.

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