Temptation and Surrender (40 page)

His lips twitched. He fought to still them, fought to hold her gaze. Failed.

She narrowed her eyes to slits. “Don’t you dare laugh—that wasn’t supposed to be a joke.”

Jonas’s smile broke free, irrepressibly. He reached for her as a rumbling laugh escaped. “I’m sorry.” He drew her into his arms; she came, but stood stiffly. He wrapped his arms about her and held her close. “I…” He dragged in a breath, held it, fought to suppress his misplaced mirth; there was no small measure of relief mixed in with it.

If our marriage is to work.
She loved him, trusted him. Regardless of all else, he’d won her.

“I understand.” He did. “
But
…” He glanced down at her, waited until she looked up and met his eyes. “You were right.” He grimaced. “I wouldn’t have been easily persuaded to let you go into the mausoleum to hand the treasure to a villain—possibly wouldn’t have been persuaded at all.”

He felt his face harden at the thought of what she’d faced—might potentially have faced, the risk she’d knowingly courted—but he forced himself to admit, “I don’t like it, not at all, but you were right, at least in going to rescue your sisters. However, I’m never,
ever
going to agree over you putting yourself at risk to save me.”

She narrowed her eyes to lancing golden shards. “In that case…on that point we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

He hesitated; it took serious effort, but he forced himself to nod. “All right.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “All right?” She gestured with one hand. “You don’t mind that I’ll act as I see fit if you’re in danger?”

His lips thinned. “No. I’ll mind. Every time, every minute. But if that’s the price I have to pay to get you to marry me, then…all right. I’ll manage.”

Meaning he would do everything in his power to ensure she was never again placed in a position of defending or even assisting him in any dangerous situation.

From the look in her eyes, she understood that, too, but after a moment, she nodded. “Very well.” The battle-ready tension thrumming through her faded. She studied his face, then, tilting her head, opened her eyes wide. “So—I believe you have a question you’ve been waiting to ask me?”

Her voice was soft, inviting.

The world seemed to still. He was suddenly acutely aware of the warm softness of her, supple and slender in his arms, acutely conscious of how much his life, and indeed his world, now depended and revolved about her. How precious she was to him, how vitally alive, how crucial to his future…and she truly was his.

The words came easily to his tongue. “Emily Colyton, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

For an instant she simply held his gaze—as if all her faculties were focused on his words, on savoring them to the very last echo—then a soft smile spread across her features, bloomed in her bright eyes. “Yes, I will.”

She pushed her arms up, wound them about his neck, stretched up on her toes, and touched her lips to his. “I’ll marry you, Jonas Tallent—and I’ll love you for the rest of my days.”

He tightened his arms about her, set his lips to hers—kissed her with the same abandoned fervor with which she kissed him.

The night closed about them as, shedding clothes, they tumbled into her bed, as they dispensed with all barriers and naked came together, skin to skin, mouth to mouth, fingers linking as their bodies merged and danced to a rhythm as old as time.

As their souls touched, merged, separate yet entwined, as their heartbeats thundered and ecstasy caught them, shattered them, and broke them, then sent glory to spread through their veins.

As they clung, wrapped in each other’s arms, and slowly drifted back to earth.

There was a promise embodied in such unfettered passion; as she settled her head on Jonas’s undamaged shoulder and felt his arms close around her, Em thought that promise had never been so clear.

He and she stood hand in hand on the threshold of their future. Love had brought them together, welded them as one; love was now the cornerstone of their present, and the guarantee of what would come.

Love was at the heart of their world, the linchpin of their joint lives.

It was all so much more than she’d expected when she’d set her course for Colyton.

She’d been searching for treasure, and had discovered far more than she’d supposed. The treasure she’d secured for her very own was worth far more than jewels and gold.

Love had tempted; to love she’d surrendered, and now she was where she belonged.

Jonas shifted his head, pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She smiled, snuggled down, closed her eyes, and slept.

The Grange, Colyton

Four months later

E
m fussed with her skirts, trying to settle the peach silk just so. She couldn’t remember being so exercised on her own wedding day. Then again, on that day, now more than three months ago, she’d had so many others helping, there’d been next to nothing for her to do.

But today was Issy’s wedding day, and Em was determined that everything—including the matron-of-honor’s skirts—would be absolutely perfect.

The last four months, ever since she’d found the Colyton treasure, had seen many changes in her life, but those changes had all been for the better, to do with her new position as Mrs. Jonas Tallent of the Grange.

Along with Phyllida at the manor, and Jocasta at Ballyclose, she’d become the natural successor to old Lady Fortemain. She, Phyllida, and Jocasta were now bosom-bows; having close friends of the same status with whom to share her secrets was a boon she’d never before been granted—another part of her newfound wealth.

Her position at the Red Bells had, of necessity, changed, too, but she was still the innkeeper-manager, still oversaw the inn’s workings, but from a distance. Edgar, Hilda, John Ostler, and Mary Miggins, who she’d hired as housekeeper, were now running the rejuvenated inn on a daily basis, and all was going well.

The village had swallowed her and her family up, incorporating the Colytons into the fabric of village life as if they’d never truly left; everyone seemed to think it only right that there were Colytons in Colyton once more.

Henry’s studies were progressing well; they’d all agreed he’d wait until after his university years before looking for a house, but he’d already made it clear he wanted to return to Colyton, that he, too, felt most at home there.

With something akin to alacrity, the twins had made the Grange their new home; the house was large and could readily accommodate a multitude of children. Issy, too, had moved there, but from later today her home would be at the rectory, her marriage to Joshua Filing another, totally unlooked-for blessing.

The treasure itself, all the gold coins and jewels, had been converted to cash under Lucifer’s careful direction, then Em herself had had to learn the ins and outs, at least the basics, of investment, something with which others in Lucifer’s family, the Cynsters, had been wonderfully helpful.

There were times when, as now, she stood and looked into the cheval glass, in the large room she shared with Jonas at the Grange—not his previous bedroom but another, much larger, brighter room, one designed for a couple—and wondered at the changes in her life.

Looking at her reflection, looking into her own eyes, she could barely recall the life she’d lived before Colyton, with all its trials and tribulations, the worries and cares. She still had the occasional worry or care, but now those were always shared, and balanced by good things, exciting and uplifting things. Her life now was a far cry from that of her pre-Colyton days.

The only loose end from that earlier time was Jervis, Hadley as he’d called himself. Although a watch had been kept, and the mausoleum checked every morning for weeks, he’d never been found, never been sighted. It was ultimately decided that he’d either perished underground, or else found another way out of the cavern and disappeared for parts unknown.

Once the excitement over the treasure had died, Harold had retreated to Leicestershire, presumably to hire new household staff. Em hadn’t invited him to her wedding, and Issy hadn’t, either. Henry had proudly given Em away, and would do the same for Issy today, much to both sisters’ satisfaction.

And then there was Jonas. Jonas, who had stood by her side throughout, who was now her husband in name as well as fact—as well as behavior, assumption, and presumption. What she felt when she thought of him could no longer be easily put into words. He was hers, her all, her everything.

Her ultimate treasure.

Along with, she hoped…

Turning sideways to the mirror, she smoothed the apricot silk over the slight bulge beneath her waist. The next generation, not of Colytons but Tallents, a merging of two of the oldest families in the village.

Yet another thing that seemed to be exactly as it ought.

A tap on the door preceded Jonas. He came in, his attention fixing immediately on her, his gaze traveling, openly possessive, from the top of her curls to the tips of her apricot satin slippers.

His slow smile warmed her; when his dark eyes rose to hers, love glowed in their depths. He arched a brow. “Are you ready?”

She glanced back at the mirror. “Yes.” She turned to him. “Issy?”

“She’s the epitome of calm impatience. She’s sitting clutching her bouquet in the drawing room with Henry to keep her company. It’s still too early to start for the church—the later-arriving guests would never forgive us.”

“Indeed not. Some are traveling from quite a distance.” The point held importance for both her and Issy; they’d both learned, by not having, to value what they now had. This was what they needed their future to hold—family, putting down new roots in the village that was theirs, growing new branches to their old family tree.

Lifting her own bouquet from the dressing table, Em smoothed the long ribbons, then turned and seized the moment to look at Jonas—to drink in the sight of him, her husband, her mate—then she smiled and went forward to join him.

His lips curved gently; he raised his brows. “What?”

She smiled up at him, let her own love show. “I was just thinking a thought I often have these days.”

His brows rose higher. “Is this a thought I want to know?”

She chuckled. “I think so—I realized some time ago that the real treasure that waited for me in Colyton had nothing to do with gold and jewels.”

His smile was triumphant. “I was waiting here—you came and found me.”

She laughed and whirled to the door. “Indeed. I found you, I found love. I discovered I had a Tallent for loving.”

He chuckled and followed her. “Talent and a Tallent—if I have any say in it, you’ll have opportunity aplenty to exercise both for the rest of your life.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she promised. “I intend to make sure I do.”

Jonas smiled and, agreeing entirely with her sentiment, let her have the last word. a