Regency Vows. Kasey Michaels
the point of her blade rested at the hollow of his throat. And the point of his rested at the hollow of hers.
Stalemate.
The ballroom was deathly silent. The stench of perfumes and powders filled her nostrils.
She stared at him. The rise and fall of her breath pressed the point of his blade into her skin. A bead of perspiration trickled down the side of his cheek. His hand was steady, his lips hard. He faced her as an equal now, and her heart pounded as she held his gaze, waiting. Waiting.
He was so beautiful her heart hurt.
I love him. The words leaped from her aching heart into her thoughts, an unexpected jab and parry. God help me, I still love—
He moved suddenly, and with a quick flick of his wrist he knocked her sword out of her hand. It clattered to the floor.
A deafening cheer went up from the crowd and there was barely time to realize what was happening before James had sheathed his sword. Fresh anger welled up. He had seen her distraction and taken the advantage. He stepped forward, taking hold of her arm.
“Unhand me.” The commotion made her command nearly inaudible.
“I don’t think I will.” Instead of letting go, he lifted her into his arms.
“Put me down! Wait— No!” He lifted her higher, up and over his shoulder, tossing her like a sack of flour so that her hat dropped to the floor amid feminine shrieks and gasps that were audible even among the commotion. “Put me down!” She grabbed the hem of his tunic and thumped her fist against his back. “I shall kill you in your sleep if you don’t put me down this instant!”
His reply was impossible to make out, but his unconcerned tone reached her perfectly. Already they were halfway through the ballroom, headed toward the doorway as the crowd closed in behind them. Then they were outside in the damp darkness. She fought and struggled, but his arms held her fast as mooring lines.
Even as people spilled out of the doorway he forced her into his waiting coach, somehow managing not to bang her head against the side. And then the door slammed shut and the coach lurched forward.
“Devil take you, James!” She pushed against him, but he held her fast by his side. “I swear on my life, if you don’t release me right now I will consult an apothecary, and you won’t like the result!”
He was still breathing hard from their fight. “If you still wish to murder me after I’ve had my say, I invite you to try.”
“Where are you taking me?”
He looked at her—inches away from her face—and smiled a little. “I’ve ordered the coachman to take a detour through the countryside.”
“You’ve gone mad.”
“No.” With his torn shirt and his earrings glinting in the darkness, he looked exactly like the fearsome corsair he portrayed. “I’m in love with you.”
She stared at him. Every emotion she’d spent the past week fighting tooth and nail threatened to overcome her. Whatever she’d thought he might say, this was not it.
“I don’t believe you.” She didn’t dare believe him. She knew better. “You knew what Dunscore meant to me. You knew how I valued my freedom.”
“I did.”
And that, she’d realized in the ballroom, was exactly why he’d done it. Because he feared he’d never win her without taking her.
She pushed away from him. “Let me out of the coach.”
“Damn you, Katherine.” In the dim light she could see the frustration in his eyes. The pain. “I’m asking your forgiveness.”
“No—damn you, James. You say you love me, but you—” her voice caught “—all you want is to own me. Possess me.”
He trapped her face in his hands. “You’re damned right I want to possess you,” he said harshly, so close she could feel his breath against her lips. “For Christ’s sake—you possess me, Katherine. Down to my very last drop of blood. You own me, body and soul. You want to know why I did what I did? That is why. Because I love you, and I don’t want to live without you, and I knew that given the chance you would turn away from me and never look back.” His voice tore. “And now I will never know if by some bloody miracle you might have chosen me, anyway.”
He was such a fool. “I chose you days ago. Weeks ago.” She paused. “I love you.” She practically spat the words.
His hands tightened. “Katherine—”
“But I can’t surrender. I can’t.”
“I don’t want your surrender,” he said roughly. “I want your choice.”
Her heart ached as if it should be mangled and dead, but it pounded fiercely with life.
Her choice. His feelings were unmistakable, and yet—
“A ship can only have one captain,” she said. “Or so I’ve heard.”
He searched her eyes. “Then I shall be your captain,” he said, smoothing his thumbs across her face, “and you shall be mine.” The raw hope in his voice said more than he ever could have—this man who had once nearly killed her and then appointed himself her savior, and failed at both. This man, who made her senses come alive and made her hope again, who made her daughter find the happy things.
“I love you, James.” A great weight lifted off her heart as she spoke the words.
Her name exhaled from him as he pulled her into his arms and held her as if she were the only thing keeping him alive.
She closed her eyes and let herself relax in his embrace.
* * * * *
Praise for New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author
‘Julia London writes vibrant, emotional stories and sexy, richly drawn characters.’
—New York Times bestselling author Madeline Hunter
‘The Last Debutante is another successful merger of witty writing and passionate romance that gracefully delivers everything romance readers could want.’ —Booklist
‘… London’s story is satisfying as it builds on the excellent chemistry of the leads, gracefully unfolding with the perfect amount of tension.’
—Publishers Weekly review of The Revenge of Lord Eberlin
‘Exceptionally entertaining … sinfully sexy’
—Booklist on The Dangers of Deceiving a Viscount
‘As London explores the intricate, authentic-feeling relationships blossoming among the players, her masterful ability to bring characters to life makes this romance entirely absorbing.’
—Publishers Weekly on The Dangers of Deceiving a Viscount
‘London’s love story is tense and tender, held aloft by endearing, dynamic characters.’
—Publishers Weekly review of The Perils of Pursuing a Prince
JULIA LONDON is the New York Times, USA TODAY and Publishers Weekly bestselling author of historical romance, contemporary romance and women’s fiction with strong romantic elements. She