And she was falling.
Through darkness hot with passion, sparking with desire, heated by their yearning bodies. The rush of need rose up and caught her, swept her up and on, a wave lifting her to blessed oblivion. She rode it rode him, urgently-he met her reflected her energy and pushed her on. Ever on.
To culmination, to the peak of joy that swelled and welled then crashed about her, showering her body, her mind with wonder with release so fragilely beautiful it shimmered in her veins and glowed beneath her skin.
Eyes shut, fingers clenched in his shirt, she muffled her scream against his warm chest. She clung, blissfully buoyed to the peak for one long instant, then let go.
And floated at peace.
He gathered her to him, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and filled her even more deeply, even more forcefully. Fully open, she received him joyfully, softly smiling at his deep groan of completion, at the warmth that flooded her womb.
She'd made her decision and stepped into the unknown, and there was nowhere to land but in his arms.
They closed about her, holding her tight.
Shutting her eyes against a sharp rush of emotion, Catriona surrendered and sank into his embrace.
"I take it," Richard drawled, "that that's Merrick looming ahead?"
"Yes." Nose all but pressed to the window, Catriona spared no more than a swift glance for the majestic peak towering over the head of the vale. The carriage rocked and raced on, swiftly pulled by Richard's powerful horses, they were almost home, and she had so many things to think of. "That's the Melchetts' farm." She nodded to a huddle of low-roofed buildings hugging the protection of a rise "The woods beyond yield most of our firelogs."
She sensed Richard's nod; she kept her eyes glued to the scene beyond the window, as it cataloging all she saw. In reality, her mind was in an unaccustomed, but oddly pleasant whirl-due, of course, to him. They'd crossed into the vale ten minutes before, having left Ayr, on the coast, at first light, after only two nights on the road
The first, spent at The Angel in Stirling, had opened her eyes to the benefits of traveling with a gentleman-a rich, powerful, protective one. Through Worboys, Richard had made his wishes-their requirements-known; all had happened as he'd decreed. Even Algaria, traveling behind them in the vale's carriage, had muted her unspoken disapproval. Even she had had to appreciate the ease of a private parlor and the quality of an excellent dinner.
Algaria had fallen silent; as the days passed, she'd be come withdrawn. Inwardly sighing, Catriona accepted it and waited for her mentor to see the light.
For herself, revelat
ion had already come.
As husband and wife, she and Richard had shared a room, shared a bed, for the past two nights. Time enough, opportunity enough, for her to see what the future might hold. Falling asleep in his arms had been heaven. Waking up there had proved a new delight.
Feeling heat in her cheeks, Catriona inwardly grinned. She avoided looking at the cause and kept her gaze on the white fields, her hot cheeks close to the cold window.
While her mind remembered all the details, and her wayward senses reveled in recollected sensation.
She'd woken that morning to find him wrapped around her, woken to the sensation of him sliding into her. She'd gasped and clutched the arm wrapped about her waist, only to have him tip her hips back so he could enter her more deeply.
He'd loved her as he always did-slowly, languorously, powerfully. Indefatigably. That seemed to be his style. It was one she found addictive. There was a depth to their intimacy, both physical and emotional, that she hadn't expected.
She'd closed her eyes and drunk it in, let it seep through her and nourish her soul.
Now, she was all but hanging out of the window in her excitement, her eagerness to be home. To start her new life-to have him there a part of it.
"There!" Like a child, she pointed through the birches, a forest of trunks and bare branches. She glanced over her shoulder at Richard. "That's Casphairn Manor."
He shifted and drew near to peer over her shoulder. "Grey stone?"
Catriona nodded as a turret flashed into view.
"The park looks extensive."
"It is." She glanced at him. "It's necessary to protect the manor from the winds and snows driving off Merrick."
He nodded and sat back again; Catriona turned back to the window. "Another ten minutes and we'll be there." Worry tinged her voice-directly attributable to the sudden, disconcerting thought of whether there was any potential problem she'd failed to foresee, any action she ought to be prepared to take to smooth his entry into the vale, into her life. Inwardly frowning, she stared out the window.
Richard noted her concern, as he'd noted her earlier absorption with her holdings. Her mind was clearly on her fields, on the vale-on her responsibilities, not on him.