Some readers found my last one shot about these two to be somewhat OOC. IF you are one of those, then you'll find this one even more so. But it came to me and I had to write it, lol. I do hope everyone enjoys;-)

She awoke to the feel of his hand moving slowly over her abdomen, gently caressing. He was curled behind her, molding his body snug to hers, her head tucked in beneath his chin. And every so often, she felt tender kiss in her hair. She also felt another sensation, one that was growing next to her bottom. She chuckled softly and reached for his hand, moving it to her breast, a subtle hint of where she thought this might go.

His small gasp behind her elicited another chuckle. "I didn't mean to wake you, my dearest," he whispered almost reverently, which considering their positions right now seemed out of place and yet, so very right.

"I'm awfully glad you did," she confessed.

"You are?" he asked as he placed a warm kiss on her neck, just below her ear.

"Umhmmmmm…." She sighed as she settled even further back into his embrace. "I was having a dream but this is even better."

"Dream? What about?"

"Nothing important…just, this wonderfully handsome man was making love to me."

"Really? Should I be jealous?" he asked lightly.

"I think not; he wasn't nearly as good as this," she replied.

He caressed her with his lips, behind her ear, down her neck, along her shoulder. This had been her life for the past three days. Sleeping, waking to him, barely leaving the bed except to eat or visit the bathroom, and then when their energy was spent, sleeping again. It had started when she arrived on his doorstep, demanding answers. Two years ago he had broken her heart and left her in shambles at the altar. He'd disappeared and no one knew anything of his whereabouts, or at least they weren't telling her. In that time, she'd lost her sister and Matthew and had almost lost herself at the hands of Michael Gregson.

Anthony Strallan had been shocked by her sudden appearance. "I thought all this nonsense had ended," he'd fired at her angrily. But he was more angry with himself than her because as she stood there in the morning light of the windows, she looked lovelier than he remembered. And he ached to touch her, hold her even. But he dared not get any nearer to her. A decision had been made and he intended to stick to it. Still, it was obvious that spending the last two years traveling had not done anything to lessen her effect on him.

His intentions were short lived in the face of her loveliness and her determination. Things were said, accusations made, hurts reopened, and then she cried. He couldn't bear her crying and he weakened. In an instant she was in his grasp, his arm wrapped snuggly around her, holding her close, and he was begging her forgiveness. And she had forgiven him…oh, how she had forgiven him….right there in his library…on the divan. He'd had no intention of anything beyond perhaps a few kisses but as always, Edith had other ideas. And once she'd captured him, she became the mistress of his will, at least where her body was concerned.

A part of him felt guilty; they weren't married after all. He should have been stronger in the face of her…her….well, simply her. But his Edith had run out of patience with him and had taken the reins, so to speak. And before he knew it he had succumbed to her. Oh what a joyous surrender it had been too!

Now, three days later, she was still here with him, in his bed. No, no…it was their bed now. She had made it such. He didn't think he would ever tire of the feel of her skin beneath his fingers, or her body against his, or her scent, or the way she responded to even his lightest touch, just as she was responding now. She made no demands on him but simply seemed to relish whatever he had to give. That in itself gave him a certain feeling of freedom which added to his vigor. Much to his surprise, other than an initial moan of sympathy from her, his scars seemed to have little effect on her desire for him. She'd stuck a solid mark through what had been a heavy worry for him before. Whatever other concerns he'd had were burned away in the fires of the passion she ignited in him.

His breathing was quickening, Edith realized. He needed her again and she smiled at that. Reaching behind, she stroked along his hip, feeling the smooth skin over taut muscle. She let her hand fall between them, skimming over his manhood, already hardened and hot. Abruptly she rolled over to face him, smiling at his small moan of disapproval. She was learning so much about this man, her man now. He liked her backed up to him, for instance. He liked how he could reach over her to fondle her breast in that position and he could also touch her easily elsewhere…and did he ever know how to touch her there. She felt herself tighten from the memory of his explorations there the night before.

"Hello," he whispered when their eyes met. His eyes were so blue, so bright, and so full of hope…and contentment, she realized. He wasn't berating himself this morning, just accepting what this was…

"Good morning," she smiled back at him, equally content…for the moment.

"Is it?" he teased, his eyes twinkling, his half crooked smile inviting mischief.

She reached for him again, down there, and grasped him firmly. "Oh, I think it is…"she cooed.

"You're…"

"What?" she asked.

"Incorrigible…insatiable… beautiful, exquisite…"

"Oh, do go on," she teased.

He leaned toward her to kiss her but just as their lips met, his wounded shoulder gave out and he collapsed back into the pillow. "Oh bloody hell…" he muttered.

She leaned over him and renewed the kiss. "This isn't hell, Anthony Strallan; not unless you let it be. I think this is heavenly, so much so I never want us to leave this bed."

Anthony chuckled at that, his brighter mood returning. "I think I could go along with that," he replied.

"Good. Now let's do it again," she said as she reached for him again.

Gazing at her in bemusement, he simply shook his head. "Incorrigible."

"And insatiable," she said just before she kissed him again.

A little while later, once she was done with him…again, he lay watching her as she moved toward the bathroom. His chuckle earned him an irritated glare from her. "What is it that you find so amusing?" she asked.

He smiled, his eyes caressing her adoringly as he answered, "you."

"Oh?"

"The way you are moving…so gingerly…" he teased, "like you're more my age than the agile young thing you are."

She sighed. "Mary's the horse woman in the family, not me." He looked at her, confused. So she explained, "I'm not used to riding a horse and you, my handsome love are apparently quite a large one…"

Her meaning caught him off guard. "You think I'm…" he blushed. "I…I don't know… but of course, you have nothing for comparison."

"True," she answered lightly. "But if the way I'm feeling right now is any indication, you are more than stud enough for me," she replied.

Mystified, Anthony did not know what to do with her declaration so he simply watched her as she continued her trip to the bathroom. She called him a stud, Anthony mused. He'd never considered himself as anything beyond average at best when it came to…well, women and…well, pleasing them. But Edith, his dearest darling Edith thought he was… a stud. He felt his head swim at the notion and his chest swelled with masculine pride as well. Then he glanced down at himself. "You old fool," he muttered.

"You need to stop doing that," her voice sounded from across the room.

Startled he looked up. "What?"

"Discounting your appeal," she said softly as she crossed the room back to him.

"Edith," he said impatiently. "I'm not blind…I see what I have become."

"Oh really," she cooed as she crawled back in the bed. "Let me tell you what I see," she whispered as her hand went to his chest. "I see strength… and a gentle loving heart. I see nobility combined with sensibility." Her hand moved to his face where she stroked his jaw. "And I see the most incredibly handsome man with the most expressive blue eyes." She kissed him. Then her hand dropped. "And I also have experienced some of your other excellent…qualities," she said as she fondled his manhood.

Anthony blushed again. "My dearest…"he breathed.

Then Edith giggled. "I must confess, you've left me quite tender and sore. I'd always heard warnings and whisperings about the first time but I'd never heard anything beyond that."

"I'm sorry my sweet," he hastened to apologize. "I'm afraid I'm quite hopeless when it comes to keeping my hands…well, hand away."

Edith began to blush. "Anthony, it isn't your hand that is causing the issue."

"No?"

"No. it is your lips and your…" she squeezed him gently to make her point. He looked down and chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm not up to any mischief at the moment," he said. "But perhaps there is some way I can help you find relief for your…issues?" His eyes twinkled. "A bath perhaps?"

Edith grinned devilish. "Perhaps. Or you could kiss it and make it all better."

Anthony tilted his head and smirked. "As I recall, kissing is how this situation began." He stretched out, amazing Edith with his apparent comfort, exposed in her presence as he was. "How about you just come here next to me," he suggested as he lifted his arm for her to get closer.

Edith complied, snuggling against him, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder, her hand over his chest. They remained quiet for a few minutes before Anthony spoke again. "When would you like the wedding to happen?"

Edith sat up, looking at him sharply. "Wedding? I didn't come here to trap you into…"

"I know, my sweet. But I have used you rather thoroughly these past three days and I would think the odds are quite in favor of you being pregnant. You did, after all, compare me to a stud," he said as his face grew pink again.

"Pregnant? I…do you think it's possible?"

"My dear, I think it is most probable. With Maud…well, it seemed I need only look at her in that way and she was pregnant. She struggled to carry a child but …apparently I was good at helping her create one. You are somewhat younger, although not much younger than she was when she ….passed. And you are much healthier; Maud was never a physically strong person. So yes, I would say it is probable."

"But…how can we know? I don't want you to feel obligated…"

Anthony scooted up and leaned against his headboard. "Why? Because it would be such a terrible burden to marry the woman I love with all of my heart? Or is it because I've always wanted to be a father? Why don't you want me to feel obligated?"

Edith looked down at the sheets and bit her lower lip. Blinking, she looked back at him. "I want…I hoped that…that when…if we married it would be because you want to, because you love me and…well, because you can't imagine not having me. I hoped you would want me and not because you felt obligated."

Pulling her to him, Anthony wrapped his arm around her, his fingers tracing soft lines along her arm. "My dearest, I do love you; didn't I just say so? And I have lived these last years without you and I would much rather live the next years with you. And my darling, I have wanted you since that first drive in the country so many years ago. I just…well for awhile I thought you didn't want me. And then…I didn't think I deserved you or that you deserved to be burdened with me." Edith shifted to speak but he held her still. "But you have proven to me these last few days that I am capable of giving you happiness. And while I still don't believe I deserve you, for some inexplicable reason, you seem to want me. And I am really not very good at denying you anything… a miserable failure, really."

He looked down into her tear filled eyes and smiled gently. "So when shall we get married, eh?"

Edith gazed back at him. "Tomorrow?"

"Then tomorrow it is," he said just before he kissed her.