Dancing at Midnight

"Well, maybe not exactly." She blushed. "But I had been hoping…"

"You're shameless."

"Perhaps, but you'll note that this story has a happy ending."

John's thoughts turned to the mystery man who had attacked them both. "Unfortunately, this particular chapter has not reached a conclusion."

Belle sobered. "Well, a happy middle, then. Or whatever it is one calls the part right before the climax."

"I rather thought we climaxed last night."

Belle's cheeks reached unparalleled heights of pinkness. "I was speaking in literary terms," she muttered unnecessarily.

John decided to stop torturing her and shut his still smiling mouth. After a suitable interlude, he asked, "Do you think Persephone will have risen yet?"

Belle frowned and looked at the sky, which was still pink and orange with the last stripes of dawn. "I'm not certain. She's a strange bird. I never know quite what to make of her. Besides, I'm rarely up at this hour, so I wouldn't know if she's an early riser."

"Well, for your sake I hope she's still abed. The only thing she could really do is insist that I marry you, which wouldn't be a problem because I plan to do exactly that and with all possible haste. All the same, I'd like to avoid screaming and swooning and all that female nonsense."

Belle gave him a sharp look at the "female nonsense" comment and muttered, "I imagine that Persephone and I will manage to comport ourselves in a manner so as not to offend your masculine sensibilities."

John's lips twitched. "See that you do."

Belle was spared from further comment by their arrival at her front steps. She had had the foresight to bring a key with her the previous night, and they slipped silently inside. John immediately made as if to leave, not wanting to create a scene.

"Please don't go yet," Belle said quickly, placing a gentle hand on his arm. Amazingly, none of the servants had witnessed their clandestine entrance. "Wait for me in the library. I'll run up and change into something more suitable."

John regarded her masculine attire with a smile and nodded as Belle scurried up the stairs. She stopped on the landing, looked back down with an impish grin, and said, "We have much to discuss."

He nodded again as he saw himself into the library. He trailed his fingers along the spines of the books until he found one with an intriguing title and plucked it off the shelf. He browsed through it lazily, not paying much attention to the words. His thoughts rested stubbornly on the fair-haired angel just upstairs from him. What on earth had possessed her to climb a tree to his third-story window? Not that he was displeased with the results, but still, he'd kill her if she tried something like that again. He sighed as his body grew warm, not with desire but with contentment.

She was his. He still wasn't certain how it had all come about, but she was his.

Belle reappeared dressed in a pale pink frock which brought out the natural rosiness of her cheeks. Her hair had been hastily pulled back into a loose knot which, while no one would mistake the style for fashionable, was at least presentable.

John raised a brow at her speedy transformation. "Only five minutes, my lady. I am stunned… and impressed."

"Oh, come now, it's not that difficult to get oneself dressed," Belle said.

"My sisters could never accomplish it in less than two hours."

"I suppose it all depends on how badly one wants to get where one is going."

"And did you want to get where you were going very badly?"

"Oh, yes," Belle breathed. "Very badly." She took a step toward him, and then another and another, until they were quite close. "I think you've made a wanton out of me."

"I certainly hope so."

Belle noticed that his breathing had grown slightly ragged and smiled. It was nice to know that she could affect him the way he did her. "Oh, by the way," she said offhandedly. "It usually does take more than five minutes for a lady to get changed."

"What?" John's eyes had glazed over with desire, and his mind absolutely refused to comprehend her statement.

Belle turned around. "The buttons."

He sucked in his breath as he gazed at her smooth white back, laid bare by her gaping dress.

"Would you mind?" she asked softly.

Wordlessly, John slipped her buttons into their buttonholes, his fingers straying to her warm skin at every possible occasion. When he reached the top one, he leaned down and dropped a tender kiss on the fragrant skin of her neck.

"Thank you," Belle said softly as she turned around. Every nerve ending on her neck and back felt as if it had suddenly come alive. Aware that she was going to have to behave with a bit more propriety-they were in her father's library, after all-she moved over to an overstuffed leather chair and sat down. "We do have a few matters to discuss," she said after making herself comfortable.

"Tomorrow." John lowered himself into the chair next to hers.

"I beg your pardon?"

"We're getting married tomorrow."

Belle blinked. "That's a bit soon, don't you think?" She had resigned herself to the fact that she was not going to have the wedding of her dreams, but she rather thought she deserved something a little special. She doubted that any of her relatives would be able to make it to London to witness her nuptials if John had his way.

"I'd do it today, but I think a lady ought to have a bit of time."

Belle eyed him warily, hoping that he was being sarcastic. "We don't need to be quite so hasty."

Her words did not worry him; John knew that she wasn't trying to back out of the marriage. Still, he had no desire for a long engagement. Not after what he had tasted the night before. "I should think we need to be extremely hasty. I want you near me where I can see to your safety. Not to mention the fact that you could be carrying my child."