"Roxton . . ."
"Roxton, wake up . . ."
Looking down on his serene face she almost changed her mind and went back to her room. She didn't know what forces had propelled her this far but it wasn't in her nature to back down because of cowardice. Moving her hand to place it on his bare chest, she thought of all the doubts she had about this man. No, I don't have doubts about him . . . he's the only thing I'm sure of. I just don't trust myself.
The second their skin touched Roxton awakened with a start, immediately looking for any signs of danger. He imagined he saw Marguerite resting comfortably on the side of his bed and he tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes as he rolled over. I've had this dream before . . .
"Roxton, will you please wake up!" Although her voice was still a whisper, there was an urgency that hadn't been there before.
His eyes flying open in shock, he flipped back over on his other side and once again regarded the dark-haired woman sitting next to him. "Marguerite . . ." he said in a baffled voice.
"It's about time," she answered in a hushed tone.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes."
Waiting for her to explain her presence in his room, he laid there silently. Finally deciding she wasn't going to clarify the reason for her visit without being prompted, he asked in an amused voice, "Can I help you with something?"
"Well if you don't want me here, I can go," she huffed as she drew herself up defensively and prepared to retreat. This was a bad idea.
Covering her small hand with his, he gazed deeply into her eyes and said, "I didn't say I didn't want you here. Are you sure everything is okay?"
"Everything is fine . . . I just . . ."she stammered as her eyes scanned the room in an effort to avoid making eye contact. "I just wanted to talk."
"Talk?"
"Yes, talk. You know, have a conversation . . . does that word ring a bell?"
He was barely able to hide a smile at her obvious discomfort. "I think I remember hearing something somewhere about it, but it's been a long time," he said teasingly. "As long as we're going to 'talk'," he added as he quickly wrapped his arms around her and brought her down to rest beside him, "we may as well be comfortable."
Her voice was muffled as he cradled her against his chest, "And this is supposed to be comfortable?"
"This," he paused to add emphasize, "is very comfortable. Now what do you want to talk about?"
In a small voice she asked, "Do you think we'll ever get off this plateau?"
"Marguerite, what is this all about? Why are you all of the sudden worried about finding a way off?"
"Sudden? Have you not been paying attention to me these past two years?"
"You know what I mean . . . it's highly unusual for you to come into my bedroom in the middle of the night to ask me if I think we will ever get home." Seeing the look on her face, he pulled her closer and said, "Not that I'm complaining . . ." You can ask me whatever you want to as long as you keep letting me hold you like this, he thought blissfully.
"Sure sounds like it to me. Seriously, do you think we will ever make it back to London?"
Thinking for a few moments before answering, he finally began to nod his head and said, "Yes, I don't know when or how but I'm sure we will find our way home one day."
Something resembling regret crossed over Marguerite's face and she continued, "Do you think we will still talk to each other once we're back?" Realizing how needy she sounded she quickly amended, "I mean Challenger, Malone, Veronica . . . all of us. Will we still be friends?"
"Yes, I think so. We've all grown very close and I think we'll remain that way when we get home." As if I would let you out of my sight now that I've found you! He would have been worried about her odd behavior had he not been enjoying himself so much.
"But it won't be the same will it?" Her voice carried a note of sadness and maybe even a little fear.
Thinking of all he could offer her when they returned to England . . . all the parties he could take her to, the things he could buy her, reflecting on how much she would love his estate and, most of all, the happiness and love they could have together . . . he murmured, "Maybe it will be better."
"Do you want to go back?"
Sighing, he brushed his lips across the top of her head before answering, "I think if every moment was just like this one, I could stay here for the rest of my life and not regret a minute of it."
She pulled back and looked up at him with a whimsical smile. He realized how close he was to completely laying his heart out at this woman's feet and decided to return to a safer subject. "Unfortunately I have responsibilities back home . . . ones I cannot avoid no matter how much I may want to."
Afraid of losing him forever to his 'responsibilities', she mockingly commented, "Ah yes, the elusive Roxton heir! You have to go back and find yourself a suitable wife so you can raise suitable children and die of boredom at the ripe old age of 45."
Liking the progression of this 'talk', especially now that Marguerite was obviously getting jealous, he neutrally stated, "That's one part of it." Although it was pitch black he could imagine the expression on her face and had to smother a laugh. "I left my mother all alone when I volunteered for this expedition, I need to be there to take care of her."
Hearing the love in his voice when he talked about his mother, Marguerite felt a bittersweet pain in her heart. She never knew her family and she thought she was above caring before she embarked on this journey. Now everything had changed. Emotions she thought were long dead had come back with a vengeance and she dreaded the day her makeshift family would split apart and return to their separate lives.
"Marguerite, have you fallen asleep?"
His breath moved a few unruly tendrils that had broken free from her braid and she felt tears stinging her eyes. What has gotten into me? To Roxton she only said, "No, I'm still here."
"What are you thinking about?"
"John, what was it like growing up?" After a pause she added so softly he could barely hear, "In a family."
His heart tore in two at the suffering in her voice. Sometimes he was so lost in his own pain over the deaths of his brother and father that he forgot to be thankful for the time he had with them. Realizing that Marguerite didn't even have memories to comfort her when she was lonely helped him to appreciate how lucky he was. "Well, there was a lot of fighting . . . it may surprise you to know that I was a very difficult child."
"No! I can't believe it . . ." she said sarcastically.
Lost in a distant memory now, he continued, "Oh the trouble William and I would get into! Mother would be at her wit's end and Father would just smile and say 'Boys will be boys dear'. No matter how bad things got though, I always knew there was someone at home who would understand." Clearing his throat to cover the deep feelings the memories had evoked he finished by saying, "Of course that was before I shot William."
She envied him. She had never known what it was like to have someone there to support you . . . at least not until now. I'm even beginning to think the pain that comes with caring is worth it, she thought as she listened to the undercurrent of agony in his husky voice. Cupping his handsome face in her hands, Marguerite said, "John, it wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault."
Forcing a smile for her benefit he tried to change the subject, "Now how can I argue with the beautiful woman who so graciously offered her company to me for the night?"
They stared at each other for what seemed like forever until Marguerite broke the silence and asked, "Do you think you'll miss me when we get back home?"
In an earnest voice he answered truthfully, "No." He felt her stiffen at his words and rushed to explain what he meant, "Marguerite, I told you once that a man only finds a woman made of fire and steel once in a blue moon. I'm just as determined now as I was then, probably even more so, not to let you slip through my hands. I'm sorry, but you're stuck with me . . . like it or not."
"Why is it that whenever you attempt to be romantic it comes out sounding more like a threat?"
"That wasn't meant to be romantic . . . it is the truth. I'll never have a chance to miss you because I don't ever intend to be far from your side."
"Do I have a say in the matter? What if I don't want you smothering me for the rest of my life?"
"Then I guess I'll just have to show you how enjoyable my particular type of 'smothering' can be," he said with a smirk.
Feeling as though her body caught on fire with his words, her voice became silky when she asked, "And how would you go about doing that?"
The smirk she had grown to love spread wider across his face. His eyes lit up with a roguish gleam and his hand started to caress her back. "Now Miss Krux, you better pick your words carefully or someone might get the wrong impression . . ."
Her eyes glowing with mirth, she allowed her gaze to travel up and down the rugged man before her. "And what impression would that be Lord Roxton?"
The whisper of her voice in his ear was almost enough to send him over the edge. He struggled unsuccessfully to keep himself in check but he already knew he was fighting a losing battle. The only thought that kept him from acting on his urges was his dream of the future with her. I can't allow something to happen that she might use as a shield against me down the road . . . I don't want us to be a one night stand! "Marguerite, what do you want from me? Why did you come in here tonight?"
Leave it to Roxton to ask the really hard questions, she thought ruefully. How could she possibly explain to him how she felt when she was around him? How can she put into words the misery she felt when she thought he had died on the bridge or the countless other times he faced death? Is it even safe to tell him? He might just see me as a jungle fling . . . I have to make a decision once and for all. I can't keep torturing both of us this way. A voice in her mind screamed for her to walk away now before it was too late. But another voice – a softer, more soothing voice – told her she was already past the point of no return. In her heart she knew she had passed that point the moment she laid eyes on Lord John Roxton. Taking a deep breath she said, "I needed to be with you."
Hope surged through his heart when he heard her words but he wasn't going to back off now. He needed to know how she felt about him. They had put off speaking of their feelings for much too long and he was going to put an end to it tonight . . . for better or for worse. "Why did you need to be with me, Marguerite? Were you just lonely or is there some other reason?"
Damn, he's not going to make this easy! Feeling more helpless and terrified than she ever had in her life, she blurted out, "Damn you Roxton!"
Although her words were far from the declaration of love he was hoping for, he knew that, for now, it was as close to an affirmation of her feelings as he was going to get. Her answer suited him better than a formal statement of her emotions anyway. His love for the woman beside him growing larger every second, he couldn't resist teasing her, "All my life, I've been waiting for a woman to say those words to me . . ."
She snorted and said, "Something tells me a lot of woman have beat me to it."
He laughed as he nibbled on her beautiful neck. Others might have said the words, but you're the one I've been waiting for, he thought to himself as he pulled her closer and made good on two years worth of pent-up passion.
***** *****
Roxton woke up late the next morning with a very satisfied smile on his face. He reached beside him to pull Marguerite closer only to find he was by himself. A confused expression on his face, he jumped up and surveyed his bed. Blinking hard once, twice, and finally a third time, disillusionment knifed through him. Could it have been a dream?
He rushed to pull on his clothes and ran out to the table where the rest of the group was just finishing their breakfast. They all greeted him and commented on his late arrival but their conversation barely registered as he studied Marguerite for any sign that last night hadn't been a dream. I refuse to believe that it was only a dream! His heart fell though when Marguerite seemed as composed and distant as ever.
"Roxton, are you okay? You're acting a bit strange," Challenger asked.
Forcing himself to look away from Marguerite, who had yet to look at him, he answered in a dazed voice, "What? Oh, yes, I'm fine Challenger. Better than fine," with an arched look at Marguerite he added, "I had the most vivid dream that I was visited by an angel last night."
Marguerite's eyes flew up to his with a startled expression. Gotcha! He thought as his smile widened.
"Really? You must have been talking in your sleep because I thought I heard you whispering last night. An angel, huh? Did you enter a bright light? Was she singing? Anything interesting happen?" Marguerite started squirming in her chair at Malone's innocent observation. When the final question left his mouth, it was all she could do to stay seated.
"You have no idea Malone . . ." Roxton said, his eyes still watching the attractive blush spread from Marguerite's face down her neck to her chest. Not able to help himself he said, "Marguerite, did you sleep well last night?"
"Marguerite already told us that she had a very pleasant night last night," Veronica said nonchalantly.
His eyes opened wide in mock surprise, he commented, "Really? What was so pleasant about it?" He couldn't believe that the others didn't notice Marguerite's embarrassed expression. Hell, I'm surprised they can't see my heart pounding against my chest!
"I also had an interesting dream, Roxton. I was sitting at the table, much like I am now, and this particularly annoying bug was pestering me, much the way you are now, and it landed near my chair . . . actually it was almost exactly where you're standing!"
"And then what?" Roxton asked, thoroughly amused by the warning look in her eyes.
"Well . . ." she said coyly as she stood up. Now everyone at the table was watching Marguerite carefully. They all knew when she got that expression no good came of it. "I simply picked up my foot like so," she demonstrated and before he could guess what she was about she brought it crashing down on his bare foot. "And I crushed it."
Challenger, Veronica, and Malone all yelled in unison, "Marguerite!" Seeing the happy expression on her face, they waited for the explosion they were sure would come from Roxton. To their surprise, the young hunter merely hugged Marguerite and spun her around the room laughing. After a few moments, he slowly slid her down his body and kissed her forehead.
Thoroughly confused, Malone asked Veronica, "Did I miss something?"
Jokingly she answered, "There's no accounting for that man's sense of humor, Ned."
Only Challenger had a knowing gleam in his eyes. Fighting to keep a delighted grin off his face, he looked at Roxton and his "angel" as they took their seats at the table . . .