Page 89 of Midnight with the Marquess (The St. Clairs 2)

They dozed and then made love twice more, one time fierce and raw and primal, the other tender and gentle. As Evan cradled her in his arms, he said, “I must go. You need to get some sleep.”

She touched his cheek. “You will come back tomorrow at midnight, won’t you? I need midnight with my marquess.”

He kissed her sweetly. “And I need every midnight from this one for decades to come with my marchioness.”

“I’m not quite your marchioness yet.”

His eyes gleamed possessively. “You’re mine, Rachel. You’re my fiancée. My almost bride and marchioness. My love and my life and my future wife. Mine always, my love.”

Evan climbed from the bed and quickly dressed. She lazily drank him in, thinking he, too, was hers for all time, marveling at the revelation.

Once he was ready, he came to the bed and sat on it, drawing her up for a final kiss.

“Until midnight tomorrow.”

“Don’t forget tomorrow night’s ball,” she reminded. “I fully intend to have two dances with you. No, three, since we are now engaged. And then we will have another lesson at midnight. Think of something especially wicked to teach me, Lord Tutor.”

“I promise you it will be beyond wicked.”

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