AT LAST they were in the jeep, driving away from the marina, away from her meddling family who had piled into a minibus for the trip back to their hotel, away from her fellow crew members and their happy grins exulting in how right they'd been about her and Tony.
Hannah didn't know what was right.
She simply felt intense relief that the barrage of well-meaning remarks and advice was over and she didn't have to smile anymore. Her face ached. Her head ached. And her heart ached, because it was torn between accepting the picture Tony had painted all day, and the fear there were too many flaws in it.
"Are you stressed out by your family... or by me, Hannah?" he asked quietly.
"Both," she answered on a heavy sigh.
He took one hand from the driving wheel and reached across to make physical contact with her, his fingers closing around her hand and gently squeezing. "I didn't plan this, though I did intend to propose to you tonight."
"I realise you were catapulted into it by my family thinking it was already a done deal, but...there was no deal between us, Tony, and..." She shook her head, finding it difficult to articulate exactly how she felt about it.
"I pre-empted your choice." "Yes. Yes, you did."
"Is that so bad, Hannah? Would you have chosen otherwise if we'd been alone together?"
"I don't know. You didn't give me the chance to think...to consider...to...to talk about it."
"Then I guess we need to talk about it now."
He squeezed her hand again before releasing it to bring the jeep to a halt outside her apartment. His calmness actually increased Hannah's anxiety.
She didn't hop out of the jeep when he did.
She sat staring at the big white wooden house that had been divided into four separate living quarters— not exactly flash apartments although they were completely private and she usually felt comfortable in hers. Her own space. Sharing it with Tony had been good, so why did she now feel he was invading it? Her heart was pounding so hard she couldn't think.
He opened the passenger door for her and still she didn't move, paralysed by a confusion she couldn't sort out. Wild doubts whirled through her mind as she stared at him. Was he Mr Right for her? Would he love her to her dying day and never look at another woman with desire? Was that an impossible dream?
Without a word, Tony stepped forward, scooped her off the passenger seat, and proceeded to carry her towards her front door, taking any decision out of her hands... again!
"Why are you doing this?" It was more a plea than a protest. Her arms wound themselves around his neck and hung on, hardly a reaction that would deter him in his purpose.
"You look very fragile," he answered gruffly.
It was how she felt. And it was so easy to rest her head on his lovely broad shoulder and close her eyes and let the whole fraught day drift away, just breathe in his comforting maleness, feel his strong arms supporting her, the steady pumping of his heart within the warm wall of his chest.
He stood her on her feet to open the door to her apartment, but he was right behind her, his arms encircling her waist, his body like a protective shield she could lean against, his head bent to hers, his mouth softly grazing her ear.
"I'm sorry today was hard for you. I can't take it back, Hannah."
"I know," she murmured, unlocking the door, letting him in because she wanted him, needed him, and instinct was stronger than reason.
He closed the door and drew her into his embrace, face-to-face this time, and his eyes burned into hers as he spoke what had never been spoken between them. "I love you, Hannah. You must know that, too."
Her heart contracted. Why did those words hurt so much? They shouldn't hurt. They should be filling her with joy and happiness. Yet the shadows of pain and betrayal were flitting through her mind.
"Kiss me, Tony," she pleaded. "Make me feel it."
He kissed her with a fierce passion that flooded through her bloodstream and revitalised every cell in her body. It ignited a blaze of desire that obliterated shadows and the only thought pulsing through her mind was yes, yes, yes. She was so much with him, it was a jolt when he wrenched his mouth from hers and savagely muttered, "No, no, no...this is wrong!"
"Why is it wrong?" she asked, totally befuddled.
"You don't want to be stormed." "Yes, I do."
"No...that's a quick fix. You want to feel loved. That's different."
He rained soft kisses around her face and took her mouth with a sensual tenderness that sent sweet shivers down her spine. He unbraided her hair and gently massaged her scalp as he kissed her some more, warmly, lovingly. It was so nice, relaxing, caring, Hannah basked in the pleasure of it, all her tensions melting away.
"I love the silkiness of your hair," he murmured, rubbing his cheek against it. "I love burying my face in it, breathing in its scent."
"I like smelling you, too," she whispered.
"And your breasts..." He started undressing her, stroking her clothes away, caressing her flesh as though it was a source of endless wonder. "You have beautiful breasts, Hannah. All of you is beautiful. I love looking at you, touching you..."
"I feel the same way about you. You're so completely perfect to me," she confessed, eagerly undressing him, wanting to see, to feel, and her heart was beating the refrain... Tony, Tony, Tony...
"Let me make love to you as I want to," he said, sweeping her off her feet again and carrying her to the bed. "Just lie here, Hannah, and feel me loving you."
It was always enthralling to her, being naked with him, the blissful intimacy of it, the freedom, revelling in his very masculine beauty, the innate power of his body. She never really thought of herself, except how lucky she was to have such a man as her lover.
Yet now, letting him do as he willed, focusing only on what he was doing to her, every erotic caress, every sensuous kiss, feeling her body responding— ripples of delight, quivers of excitement—it dawned on her that Tony was giving her the sense of every part of her being loved. More than loved...adored, cherished...and when he moved to give her the most intimate kiss of all, she was on fire to have him inside her, to show him how deeply she welcomed this loving, wishing it could go on forever.
It was utterly glorious when he finally surged into her. She embraced him with all she was—body, heart, mind, soul—and soared with him to one exquisite climax after another until they were both spent and lay tangled together in the sweet ecstasy of feeling completely fulfilled by each other.
"Marry me, Hannah," he murmured, pressing warm kisses over her hair.