He'd carried her from the kitchen to the bedroom after the first time they'd made love, and she hadn't given him much time to recuperate before she'd shimmied out of that scrap of nothing and pulled him to her with a renewed vigor he couldn't help but respond to.
"At least you'll die a happy man," she said, skimming her palms down his muscled back to his buttocks.
Deep laughter rumbled in his chest. "Yeah, what a way to go." He groaned in her ear as she tensed inner muscles around him, then he lifted his head to look at her. "Lord, where did you learn to do that?"
"Jade loaned me some interesting books of hers." A sly smile curved her well-kissed mouth. The soft glow from the bedside lamp emphasized the mischievous gleam in her eyes. "I wouldn't want you to get bored with the predictable stuff."
Not in a million years, he thought. Separating their bodies, he lay back on the bed and gathered her close to his side, reveling in the simple pleasure of just holding her. "With you, making love has never been, and never will be, predictable."
Draping herself along his upper body, she stacked her hands on his chest and propped her chin on top. "Yeah, well, you've pulled a few unpredictable stunts of your own lately."
"Like?"
"All those flowers and sexy lingerie you sent me when we first broke up."
Plucking the pins from the knot of hair on her head, he plowed all ten fingers through the mass of silk. "Someone told me that women like to be romanced."
She rolled her eyes, then groaned when he stroked and massaged the warm nape of her neck. "Mark, no doubt, womanizer that he is."
He grinned wolfishly. "Yeah, but I have to admit his idea worked."
Closing her eyes, she relaxed as his hands moved to rub the muscles along her shoulders and the slope of her back. "Umm, it was kinda nice being spoiled like that," she admitted, a dreamy quality to her voice. "And what about kidnapping me?"
"Sheer desperation. And that worked, too."
"Only because I felt sorry for you."
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
Her sigh fluttered the light sprinkling of hair on his chest. She blinked her lashes open. "If I really wanted to find a way home I would have. I wanted to be with you, and I'm soo glad I came."
"Yeah, me, too." His finger traced the notches in her spine, and she arched against him like a sleek cat.
"I have to say, though, that this is the most unpredictable stunt you've pulled so far."
"What stunt is that?" he murmured suggestively. "The one in the chair, or the one at the foot of the bed when I pulled your legs around my-"
She gave him a playful pinch in the side, and he yelped. "I'm talking about the ring, Grey."
"Oh, the ring." Smiling, he smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear, keeping his gaze on hers. "I guess that's the kind of irrational thing you do when you're in love. Of course, I can only assume my spontaneous behavior is related to love since I've never been in love before you."
"I'm glad I'm your first," she said in a seductive tone, and lightly rolled his nipple between her fingers.
"Yeah, me, too." He sucked in a breath as her fingers fluttered along his rib cage. "It's sorta like being a virgin all over again."
She arched a blond brow and drew sensual circles around his navel, then explored lower. "Now there's a fantasy I'd be happy to fulfill for you. Older, more experienced woman tutoring younger virgin boy." Her fingers wrapped around his semierect shaft, which thickened with each of her slow, measured strokes.
He moaned at the images her words projected in his mind, and grasped her hand to stop the sweet torture. "Give me ten more minutes for my poor body to recuperate from our first two stunts, and then I'll be happy to let you show me just how experienced you are."
Mariah pressed a kiss on his chest then snuggled into his side. They had the rest of their lives to indulge in fantasies. For now, she was content to bask in the triumph of Grey's declaration of love and the ring he'd put on her finger.
Lifting her left hand, she admired the band of sparkling rubies and diamonds, and the marquis set in the center of the exquisite, original design. It wasn't a traditional wedding ring by today's standards, but then Grey wasn't the traditional sort.
A grin tipped her mouth, and a giddy feeling tickled her belly. Her parents were going to be thrilled about her engagement to Grey. No doubt her mother would be anxious to help her plan the wedding, and her father wouldn't spare any expense on the grand event to finally see one of his daughters married.
She glanced up at Grey. His eyes were closed, but the fingers brushing along the curve of her waist told her he was awake. She supposed she ought to see if he had a preference for a particular date to exchange vows before they told her parents the good news.
"So, when do you want to get married, Grey?" she asked, unable to contain the excitement working its way to the surface. "I've always wanted a winter wedding, but I wouldn't mind getting married in the spring. Which do you prefer?"
The sudden tension in his body was nearly tangible. The fingers stroking her skin stilled, and his eyes slowly opened and met hers, dark and remote.
"Mariah, I never said anything about marriage." His voice was deceptively calm, though the muscle ticking in his jaw belied his tension.
Dread churned in the pit of her stomach, and she tamped down the knot working its way up her throat. This had to be an awful nightmare, but the pricking heat along her nerves confirmed she was wide-awake. Had she somehow misunderstood Grey's intentions? "But you said you loved me," she whispered, hearing the confusion in her own voice.
His heart thundered violently beneath the palm she rested on his chest. "I do love you," he said gruffly.
She shook her head, not comprehending how he could love her, offer her a ring, but stop short of fulfilling that commitment. "And the ring?"
He pulled his arm from around her, withdrawing physically as well as emotionally, and sat up on the edge of the bed, his back to her. "It's not a bridal set," he pointed out tightly. "I made sure of that."
She shivered, and grabbed for the quilt. She felt cold. The kind of chill that settled deep and clung to your bones. "A 'bridal set' is anything you deem it to be," she said, swallowing back burning tears. "I'd proudly wear a ring from a Cracker Jack box to be your wife, Grey. If this ring you gave me isn't meant to be a wedding ring, then what would you call it?"
He wouldn't look at her. Silence filled the room, and the longer it stretched between them, the angrier Mariah became. She wanted to hit him, hard. Wanted to rail at him for making her believe that they could have a secure future together. Their relationship had seemed so hopeful after their week together. She'd been hopeful.
And so very wrong.
Her nerves snapped. "Dammit, Grey, answer me. You owe me at least that much."
His head whirled around and he glared at her, but there was pain in his gaze, too. And fear. "Why are you making this more complicated than it has to be?"
She lifted her chin, unwilling to back down on what she believed in. Marriage. A forever kind of commitment. Them. "Answer me. Why did you give me this ring?"
"It's the ultimate expression of how I feel about you." He hesitated. When she didn't respond, just waited for more of an answer, he took a deep breath and continued. "I love you. Right now, at this moment, I can't imagine anyone else in my life-"
"But that's subject to change?" she interrupted bitterly.
"Yes, I mean, no!" He jumped up and rounded the bed with a fierce curse. Grabbing the first thing he found, his sweatpants, he yanked them on. "Dammit, Mariah, that's not what I said. Quit putting words in my mouth," he said heatedly. "You know how I feel about marriage, and that hasn't changed. I doubt it ever will."
A strangled sound escaped her. Oh, God. Her heart was breaking, and she feared it would never mend. A horrifying sense of deja vu wrapped around her. They'd had a similar conversation a few months ago when he'd asked her to live with him.
Despite all her efforts the past week, nothing had changed. Grey hadn't changed.
Get up and walk out, her mind urged, but her heart demanded more answers. Numbly, she slipped from the bed and started putting on the clothes she'd left out to wear home tomorrow. "What makes you think my feelings about marriage have changed?"
A deep frown creased his brows. "I thought we'd come to an understanding about our relationship."
Her brittle laughter masked the devastation tearing her apart inside. Apparently they'd come to vastly different conclusions about where their relationship was heading and where it would end. "Funny, I thought you knew I wouldn't settle for less than marriage." She'd believed they were working toward a common goal-to spend the rest of their lives together.
"And after everything I shared with you, about my parents, my mother and my childhood, I thought you understood my views on marriage." He dragged his fingers roughly through his hair. "I never led you to believe differently."
Her mouth opened, then snapped shut. He was absolutely right. The only comment she could use to refute his point was that she'd hoped she could show him how good a relationship could be between a husband and wife, and change his mind. Apparently he didn't care how wonderful a marriage could be.
She buttoned the front of her light cotton dress, realizing in that moment that they'd both secretly hoped to sway the other to their way of thinking. And when it came right down to it, neither of them was willing to surrender their beliefs for the other.
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