PARANORMAL ROMANCE: Shapeshifter Romance: The Vampire's Stolen Bride (BBW Fantasy Alpha Male Romance Books) (New Adult Vampire Fun Mature Young Adult Billionaire Steamy Love and Romance Novella) (58 page)

              Catharine jolted, gasping and moaning as she came. James moved his fingers up and down the slit between her legs—creating more moisture, more friction.

              She had just come down from her orgasm when James positioned himself over her. She was breathless, dizzy, and she was mindlessly compliant as he spread her legs wider and pressed his member in between her lower lips.

              Catharine tensed, blinking quickly as he continued to push himself inside her. It was…an odd sensation at first, slightly uncomfortable.

              “You alright?” James whispered, choking on the words. His eyes were wide and wild, lust making them dark.

              Catharine stared up at him. Understanding his need, and sincerely feeling alright with this situation, she nodded. “Yes. Keep going.” And then, knowing that he liked it, she huskily whispered, “James.”

              He moaned. “God, Catty.” He moved deeper and deeper inside her. Then, once he was settled, he began thrusting.

              Catharine’s eyes widened. That hot pleasure returned to her in full, and as James’s movements became quicker and more jagged, the hotter and needier Catharine became yet again. It was so much—too much—she wanted more. She became greedy, moving her hips in time with him and moaning loudly.

              A few blissful minutes later, they both came at the same time. This orgasm, much more powerful than Catharine’s first, sucked the breath out of her lungs and stopped her heart. Her body knew nothing but ecstasy, numb to everything else in the world…everything but James, whose seed was filling her.

              James collapsed on her when he was finished. The two of them panted, riding out the light aftershocks of their orgasms.

              In that moment, she realized what she, an unmarried woman, had just done. This was all disgusting and horrible, yet…she didn’t feel that way. In fact, this was the best she had ever felt in her life, and she had shared this incredible experience with James. She smiled, confused by herself yet completely sated.

              James kissed her cheek, and Catharine’s heart softened. Sinful or not, this had been wonderful, and she refused to deny it. But in order for her not to be ashamed of their actions, she would have to do right by them.
              She would have to get James to marry her.

              “Lady Sadlier,” James panted, pulling out of her before staring down at her intently. “Perhaps this is a bit out of order, but I would like to request having dinner with you some evening.”

              Her eyebrows shot up. “You…you wish to court me? Truly?”

              “Of course.”

              She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling too madly. It was a slower route than the one she wanted to go down, but it was strangely sweet. She decided it would do, especially since it seemed to mean a lot to James—this mere act of courting, even though he already received…

              Catharine blushed.

              James tilted his head toward her. “You are a magnificent woman, Catharine.”

              She swallowed, suddenly nervous. “You are, as well.” Humiliation spiked through her and she jumped. “No, I mean a man. You’re a man. You—” She groaned and closed her eyes.

              James laughed. And this time, she couldn’t help but laugh, too.

Chapter 4

              Catharine and James spent every day together that following week. Though a lot of that time was spent working on their charity—asking people for donations, planning new programs—they did manage to make time for one another at night, when most people were in bed or out and about.

              At James’s father’s mansion, she and James kissed passionately. They were in James’s office, a rather small room compared to his chambers. However, his father had deemed the room James’s and he was always so proud to call it his office. Catharine was proud of him, too, and it was rather tantalizing to watch him work in it.

              James pushed her against the cool window, his mouth molding into hers and his hips pressed against hers. She moaned.

              James’s father wasn’t even in London that day. James wouldn’t give Catharine any details about where the Second Earl of London on gone off to; he simply said that the man had some public appearance to make—some rumors to argue against—and that was that.

              Truthfully, Catharine didn’t care. So long as no one was there to interrupt her and James, she was content. After all James’s and her hard work on the charity, these nights together were such wondrous gifts. She didn’t want to deal with family, with money—

              Catharine’s eyes widened, and she pushed James off of her. “We didn’t go to the bank today.”

              “It’s fine,” he said, moving toward her again.

              She kept him back. “James. You had the donations. Are they still in your pocket?”

              He released an exasperated sigh. “No, I put it away when we got here. I remembered it while you were in the powder room, and I didn’t want you to worry about it, so I didn’t say anything.” He gave her a slight glare, annoyance evident in his expression.

              “Where did you put it?”

              Sighing, he backed away and moved over to his desk. As Catharine followed him, he took out a key from his pocket and used it to unlock one of the top drawers of his desk. Once the drawer was unlocked, he pulled the drawer open and took out a medium-sized, unkempt bag out and plopped it on top of the desk.

              “Satisfied?” James asked.

              Catharine hurried over and searched through the bag. They had gotten seven direct donations from some wealthy heirs earlier that day. James had counted it out in front of her.

              “Where’s the rest of it?” she asked, a sense of panic beginning to buzz through her.

              “What are you talking about?”

              Catharine turned to him. James was furrowing his brow at her, innocence expressed in his face. It made her cold. “James, where’s the rest of the money? It’s not all here.”

              Clearly not believing her, James shook his head and took the bag from her. She waited, gnawing at her lip, as he counted the money out for himself. When he began counting the money again, Catharine placed a hand over her mouth and walked away.

              She was certain that they hadn’t dropped any of the money when they were out. She had been at James’s side the entire day until they came back to his father’s home, and she had constantly checked his pockets to make sure the money had remained there. Where James had gotten the bag, she didn’t know. Apparently, she had been in the powder room a long time for him to find a bag, put all the money in it, lock it up, and then somehow lose some of that money.

              That thought process was ridiculous, and she knew it. James…James had been alone with the charity’s funds—today, and many other times the past few months. What if…what if all this time, he had been stealing from it?

              Nausea churned within Catharine’s stomach, her heart icing over. She tried to not believe it, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. The old James would have loved to make a fool of her. It wouldn’t have mattered if he needed to steal the money or not; as long as it hurt and embarrassed her, that was all that would have mattered to him.

              Tears stung her eyes as pain and rage pulsated through her. She sniffled, shallow breaths bursting out of her mouth.

              How could she have been so blind?

              “Catharine?” James said, walking around until he was facing her. His brow was creased with concern. “Darling, please don’t be upset. I’ll make up the difference from my own account. It will be fine.”

              Catharine clenched her teeth and tried to control her breathing. Once she felt a little controlled over herself, she glared into James’s eyes. “Did you steal it?”

              James had the gall to laugh. “What?”

              “Did you steal it, James?”

              “No! Of course not. Why would I?”

              Tears escaped her eyes, and she quickly swiped at her moistened cheeks with embarrassment. “You always used to do cruel things to me, remember?”

              James’s face fell. “Catharine—”

              “Pushed me down the stairs at my birthday party, lied to me about a potential suitor—”

              “That’s different and you know it.”

              “How?!” Her tears were pouring out of her eyes now, and wiping them away would have been pointless. Aware of this, she continued to glare at James as her heart shattered. “How is it different?! How am I supposed to know that you haven’t just been…been lying to me, all this time, just to fool me? Just to humiliate me?”

              James glared back, his own eyes moistening. “You believe that?”

              Guilt jittered through her, warring with her dreadful certainty. Catharine, hopeless, shook her head and let her shoulders sag. “What am I supposed to believe?”

              “Me.”

              “Why? This would be exactly what you would do to hurt me.”

              “I never meant to hurt you.”

              She gave him an incredulous look, anger flashing through her. “You used to mock me, belittle me—how does that not hurt anyone? And you used to always talk about what you would to do women—”

              “Used to,” he repeatedly loudly. He moved toward her to embrace her, but she backed away. He flinched at her retreat, his lips trembling. “I used to be like that. I’m a better man now, I swear to you. I’m better because of you.”

              Catharine shook her head. She didn’t know what to believe—how to comprehend this—so she moved toward the door. “I need to be alone.” She jumped when James grabbed her wrist, indignation and guilt racing through her. “Let go, James.”

              “What do I have to do to prove my innocence?” he said, his voice wrecked with fear—with a pleading tone.

              “James, you can’t—”

              “I’ll do anything.”

              “I don’t know,” Catharine snapped, looking over her shoulder at him.

              She could see him think—his lips pressing together, his facial muscles tensed. After a few seconds, he said, “I’ll give you everything.”

              She rolled her eyes. “James—”

              “Literally,” he said shakily. “I will donate all of my money to the charity. I will give up my future title as the Second Earl of London. It was never guaranteed mine, anyway.”

              “Words are easy to speak,” she said. She suddenly felt so tired and worn; she just wanted to escape this moment. “Stop making promises you won’t keep and let me go.”

              “Please, let me prove it. Please, Catharine.”

              She closed her eyes. His tone—it sounded so sincere, so torn up…her will weakened, even though a part of her was still convinced that he was simply trying to break her heart further. “Fine,” she said, opening her eyes and turning to him. “Prove it.”

              He immediately released her and dug through his pockets. He piled all of his coins in his hands before hurrying over and placing them on his desk.

              Catharine rubbed her temples. “James, that’s not—”

              “I know,” he said, facing her. His eyes were wide and begging her to stay. “But the banks won’t open until the morning, and I…I need to know I haven’t lost you.” He frantically glanced around the office before he ran up to a portrait hanging on the wall. He took it off, and all but threw it on top of his desk. “I’ll sell everything. No, I’ll burn everything here and now, if that’s what it takes.”

              She wanted to trust that he meant every word, but James had never been afraid to be melodramatic to get what he wanted. She hid her face in her hands. This was just too much. She wasn’t sure what James could do to erase all the doubt in her mind, and the uncertainty was beginning to hurt as much as her sense of certainty was; all of it was making her head spin and her eyes sting worse.

              Catharine gasped when her elbows were yanked downward, forcing her hands away from her face. Then she gawked when she saw that James was kneeling in front of her and gripping her arms for dear life. His face was wet with tears.

              “Don’t make me lose you,” he said, choking on the words. Several tears crawled down his cheeks and down his neck. “Please, Catharine. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You have made me happier than I have ever deserved to be, and you have made me a good person. A decent person. Please…you’re my saving grace. I need you. I…I love you.”

              Catharine was stunned. She had never seen James cry openly before. He had never been so vulnerable, so exposed to her, not even when they were making love. He praised her when they were intimate, but he never cried—never begged for her like this. He had never told her that he loved her before.

              “James,” she whispered. Her doubt faded away, as did her fear. In their place, trust and faith grew and took reign of her senses; they also fueled the love that twisted and constricted her heart in the most painful, most wonderful ways. “God, James, I love you, too.”

              Relief washed over James’s face. His body visibly sagged, but he kept his gaze on her—staring at her like she as a celestial being worthy of praise. A wobbly, insecure smile widened his lips.

              Catharine couldn’t stand their distance another moment. She fell to her knees, grabbed his face, and kissed him.

“Love you,” she whispered over his lips when they parted. “Love you so much.”

              “Marry me,” he whispered in return.

              Catharine reeled back. “What?”

              James’s eyes fluttered open. He looked exhausted, but he also looked completely serious. His eyes gleamed. “Catharine Sadlier, my love, I’m asking you to marry me. Will you? Can you risk being mine?” His voice broke at this last sentence, his expression crumbling.

              Her hands still on his cheeks, she used her thumbs to wipe away his tears. She sniffled and smiled. “I believe you, James. And I trust you. Marrying me would be quite the extensive rouse to pull.”

              James snorted.

              “I love you,” she repeated, realizing she loved saying those three words to James Warner. “So yes, I will marry you.”

              As James’s smile widened, she kissed him again.