Carol Finch (21 page)

“I could care less about a lack of dowry,” he cut in as he unbuttoned her blouse then spread a row of warm kisses along her collarbone that melted her down to mush. “All I want is you.”

“It’s not a matter of not having money.” Her voice cracked, evidence of the arousing effect he had on her. “It’s a matter of having too much of it.”

He lifted his head and frowned, bemused. “I thought the snooty Bennetts from Georgia disowned you.”

She nudged him gently toward the bed then followed him down to sprawl atop his chest. “The only reason the snooty Bennetts contracted a marriage to my father is because
The Cantrells
of Georgia are richer than God. Papa dislikes pretentious high society and chooses to live a simple, meaningful life… Fletch?”

She swore his blue eyes were about to pop out of his head. He stared up at her with incredulous disbelief. “You’re filthy rich?” he tweeted.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. But I try not to let it show.”

“But I still get to keep you, with or without the money, right?” he demanded.

“Forever and ever,” she promised. “We just don’t have to worry about how to finance our livestock herds or where our next meal is coming from.”

Fletch tossed her blouse over a nearby chair then eagerly helped her out of her breeches. “I’m not worried about my next meal,” he growled playfully. “I plan to make a feast of you all afternoon.” He pulled her head to his, staring deeply into her eyes. “I love you. All I need is for you to love me, too.”

“I do. I always will, Fletch. Count on it.” She gave herself up to his achingly tender kiss and the all-encompassing love that bubbled up inside her.

Fletch closed his eyes and asked himself what he’d done to deserve such happiness. He recalled how this dark-eyed beauty had tripped him up and turned him upside down the first time they met. He smiled, thinking nothing had changed all that much. She still turned him upside down and inside out. Not that Fletch was complaining, mind you. He happened to like it. A lot…

That was his last thought before he focused com
pletely on communicating his unfaltering affection by touch, by heart.

The passion they summoned from each other sent him blazing through space like a shooting star, consumed by its own fire.

“You’re my life, my hope for a bright future, my greatest treasure,” he told her much later while he cuddled her possessively against him.

“Keep telling me that for the next sixty or seventy years,” she murmured with a contented sigh.

And he did…