The Designs of Lord Randolph Cavanaugh (The Cavanaughs 1) - Page 94

Rand’s smile was the definition of mellow, full of confident satisfaction. The same emotion rang in his voice as, after turning his head and pressing a kiss to her right palm, he replied, “It truly was my pleasure—and all of what’s followed, all our combined success, is my reward. All the reward I look for.” He paused, then added, “This is the sweetest part of what I do and a large part of what attracts me to the challenge.”

She slid her hands back, locked them at his nape, and tipped her head, studying him. “Succeeding—pulling it off.”

No question, Rand noticed; she understood. “And speaking of such challenges—and pulling them off—as I mentioned, I have a proposition to place before you, one I wish to state at the outset is not in any way connected to my proposal of marriage.” He continued to hold her before him, continued to meet her eyes. “If you don’t think this proposition has merit—if it doesn’t appeal to you—please don’t feel obliged to agree. Your decision won’t affect our marriage in any way.”

She narrowed her eyes fractionally. “I think you had better make your proposal clear, my lord—and allow me to be the judge of how much impact it might have.”

His lips twisted wryly. “Very well—it’s simply this. Quite aside from marrying you, I want to bring you into the firm of Cavanaugh Investments as a full partner.”

Her brows rose. “A partner? Doing what?”

“Working alongside me in evaluating inventions in which the various syndicates I manage might invest. I have a feel for things from a financial perspective, but you have a talent for sensing which inventions can be made to work efficiently and which are more likely to hit insurmountable obstacles. You can winnow the chaff from my grain. As partners, working as a team, our chances of success—and of avoiding failure—will be greatly increased.”

Her eyes had widened. “You truly want me working beside you...openly?”

He nodded. “In the office, sitting alongside me while I meet with my investors.” He couldn’t help his smile. “You’ll feature as my number one advantage over all other investment-syndicate managers, at least those focusing on inventions. Especially now the Throgmorton steam carriage has achieved such preeminent success.”

Her gaze had grown unfocused as she envisaged the picture he was endeavoring to paint. “Together, we could steer funds toward those inventions most likely to result in new and better ways of doing things—producing things—society needs.” She refocused on his eyes and smiled her warm, engaging smile. “This proposition of yours, husband-to-be, appears to have been quite thoroughly thought through—a most well-grounded and well-rounded proposal.”

He smiled into her green eyes. “I thought so.” After a second, he arched a brow. “Does that mean you’ll accept?”

She tipped back her head and laughed. “Of course—how could I resist?”

He dipped his head to place a string of hot kisses down the sweet line of her throat. “I’m glad you can’t. We’ll make a remarkable team.”

She righted her head and, moving into him, her gaze locking on his, softly said, “I never thought to have anything to do with inventions—not ever. But by your side...that’s where life now calls me.”

He held her gaze. “It’s where you fit—by my side, working with me in every way.”

“Yes.” For a second, she held his gaze, letting him see her commitment to that—a commitment to match his own—then she stretched up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

She kissed him, and he gathered her to him and kissed her back.

And as the moon and the stars shone upon them in silvery benediction, they gave themselves up to their private celebration. With minds and souls committed, wholeheartedly, they embraced all that linked them, surrendering with joy to the need, to the undeniable wanting. To the hunger and desire, to the passion that rose up and, in a fiery conflagration, erupted and drove them to the bed.

Onto sheets that tangled as they reached for each other and burned.

They came together in a rush of joy and incandescent pleasure, driven by a force too powerful to deny.

They seized and clutched and let the sensations grip and whip them on, up and on to the peak—then over to where soaring ecstasy seized them, broke and shattered them, and glory flooded in, until, at the last, oblivion ruled.

Later, much later, when he lifted from her, then settled beside her and drew the covers over their cooling limbs, when she turned to him, into his arms, he dropped a soft kiss to her temple and whispered, “Together in everything from now on.”

* * *

Three days later, Rand and Felicia stood on the porch of Throgmorton Hall and waved Ryder and Mary and the men from Raventhorne on their way.

As the small troop passed out of sight down the drive, Felicia sighed. She glanced at Rand, standing beside her. She’d promised Mary and Ryder that she would accom

pany Rand on a visit to Raventhorne Abbey in a few weeks. In truth, she was looking forward to learning more about him and his family—about his life.

Flora, who had come out with them to wave their guests farewell, turned and walked toward the open door. “Do come in for tea later, my dears.”

Rand glanced at Flora and smiled. “We will.” He turned back to Felicia, took her hand, and drew her down the steps.

As she acquiesced and allowed him to lead her onto the lawn, in reply to her inquiring look, still smiling, he said, “It’s time we discussed the details of our own crowning achievement.”

She laughed. “You mean our wedding?”

Tags: Stephanie Laurens The Cavanaughs Romance
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