“The marquess held the weapon out, as formally as if he were passing a sword.Soberly, Ned accepted it. He placed the sacrificial citrus on the table in front of him, and then with one carefulincision, eviscerated it. He speared deep into its heart, hishands steady, and then cut it to pieces. Jenny allotted herself one short moment of wistful sorrow for her afterdinner treat gone awry as the juice ran everywhere.“Enough.” She reached out and covered his hand midstab.“It’s dead now,” she explained gravely.He pulled his hand away and nodded. Lord Blakely took back his knife and cleaned it with a handkerchief.Jenny studied the corpse. It was orange. It was pulpy. Itwas going to be a mess to clean up. Most importantly, it gave her an excuse to sit and think of something mystical to say—the only reason for this exercise, really. Lord Blakelydemanded particulars. But in Jenny’s profession, specifics were the enemy.”

“He slid his hands up her back and lifted her until they were eye to eye. She held his gaze, those changeable eyes of hers blue now, reflecting the water and the sky. And finally she let go, unraveled, squeezing him tightly, wrapping herself around him in sensual pleasure. Her cries, amplified by the water and ancient stone, reached out and connected to something so fundamental inside him it felt like his soul. He closed his eyes and cried out as he followed her back into the void.”

“Yet losing him seemed unbearable. He was the one she loved, the one she would always love, and as he leaned in to kiss her, she gave herself over to him. While he held her close, she ran her hands over his shoulders and back, feeling the strength in his arms. She knew he’d wanted more in their relationship than she’d been willing to offer, but here and now, she suddenly knew she had no other choice. There was only this moment, and it was theirs.”

“Blake took off his jacket and blanketed her undergarments on the ground. He unbuttoned his shirt with the carelessness of a man standing in front of his dresser. His hands never hitched. Livia wanted to cheer as he revealed his chest to the sun. But Blake had other plans.He put his chest against hers, and his sun-drenched hands ran from her shoulders to her lower back, pulling her to him with a hard jerk. He was a gentleman, but not necessarily a gentle lover. Their hearts beat as if they were trying to touch from the inside out.Blake ghost-kissed Livia, not quite letting their lips touch. She felt his hot mint breath on her cheek. Blake reached for his pants, and Livia longed to release the button for him, but he needed to do this.He removed his pants and boxer briefs in one swift motion. He kicked off his socks and shoes. All that remained was the mask. Blake and Livia stood apart for a moment before he gathered her again in his arms.With no more material between their bodies, he touched every part of her. He spun her so her back pressed against his chest and he could warm her breasts with his hands.“I always wanted to know if your lips were the same color as your nipples. But they’re not. I think the sun has faded your lips just a bit.” Blake’s liquid silk voice tickled her neck.Livia could feel the scratch of the ski mask. She remembered that the first time she’d heard his voice it was just like this, from behind her. She begged her hands not to remove his mask. They were having a hard time listening. She squirmed until she and Blake were chest to chest again. She kissed his shoulder instead of his mouth. Blake was glorious naked. Powerful.”

“She got to her knees, running her nails lightly along his chest, loving the way he groaned, loving how his breath wheezed out when she took him into her hands, loving him, even when he reared up and said, “Now,” and took her waist in his hands and pushed her onto her back. She didn’t object or take offense. Words were beyond her, too, as he surged into her, hard and fast, and she forgot how to breathe and how to think.”

“Blake waited for her to look at him with a smile, but her shoes were still too captivating. He held a hand up to stop Cole from beginning the ceremony. He knelt on one knee, close to the hem of her dress, and looked up at her. She watched him as he kissed her hand.“Beautiful, enchanting Livia, will you marry me today?”Livia’s disobedient tears emerged, gravity bathing his smiling face with their small, splashy wishes. She took her hand from his and covered her mouth. She nodded over and over as she cried.Blake stood and gathered her. Livia dissolved into him, leaving the guests alternately tearing up or looking in other directions.Blake tried to stroke her hair through the veil, but he was afraid he would pull it out. “Shhh. It’s okay. I’m not that terrible, am I?”Livia shook her head.“I’m making you my wife right now, even if you cry through the whole damn thing.” Blake switched to wiping her tears.”