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For a moment, Jenna Montague's breath caught in her throat. "You…love me?" she gasped, sure she could not have heard Major Garrett Fairchild correctly.

"I know, yesterday I spouted a great deal of nonsense about 'respect' and 'esteem.' But after Sancha told me that Nelthorpe had taken you I…I found that I'd not become such a stranger to violent emotion as I'd thought. When I realized he was threatening to marry you by force and knew I might lose you forever…the thought was beyond bearing."

To her astonishment, the major went down on one knee. "Will you forgive me, Jenna, for being too blind to see the truth before my eyes? I thought I no longer had a heart to give — and I didn't, for by the time you gathered the pieces and made it whole again, it belonged to you. Will you marry me, and give me a chance to win yours?"

Though she could still hardly believe it was true, it appeared that Brigade Major Garrett Fairchild had just proposed to her again — this time for all the right reasons.

"Ah, Garrett," she said, pulling him to his feet, "my heart is yours and always has been."

He stared at her, incredulous. "Then…why did you refuse me before?"

"Because I loved you too much to marry a man who only 'esteemed' me."

He lifted her hands and kissed them. "Darling Jenna, I do esteem you — as much as I adore you. Now, let us get back. We have, I believe, a wedding to plan."

But as he turned to take her to her horse, it suddenly occurred to Jenna that Lieutenant Lord Nelthorpe's method of cementing a betrothal might be quite enthralling — with the right man.

"Garrett," she said, halting, "do you not wish to seal our agreement with a kiss?"

A slow smile lit his face and he leaned toward her.

"Not here in the road," she protested, blushing. Taking his hand, she led him back into the small stone monastery.

* * *

His heart was already pounding and his mouth dry by the time they reached the shadowed interior. "Just one chaste kiss," Garrett promised before Jenna was once again in his arms.

And so it was — at first. But he hadn't counted on her raising her hands to clutch his shoulders, or her breathy sigh as she parted her lips. Just the thought of the touch of her tongue sent a blast of heat scorching every nerve.

Before he could honor his vow and — albeit reluctantly — release her, Jenna made a mewing sound and hugged him closer. Somehow his tongue strayed into the moist cavern of her mouth and found hers.

The dizzying rush of sensation as she returned that tentative stroke robbed him of the ability to move an inch, much less pull away. And then he stopped thinking altogether, completely entranced with teaching an eager Jenna a most delightful version of thrust and parry.

At last, knowing his control couldn't take much more, he broke away.

"Garrett," Jenna whispered, her kiss-reddened lips a breath away making it nearly impossible for him to keep his distance, "you do intend for us to have a full and…complete union?"

He brought one hand up and kissed it. "Yes, my darling, I await but the proper interval to make it complete in every way."

"And what is the…proper interval?"

"However long it takes for you to mourn your father and be ready to move on with your life. I can wait."

"Would you be shocked if I said that interval were…three days?"

It took him half a heartbeat to make the calculation. "But that would be…today? You can't mean that you want —"

"Yes. Please, Garrett."

Hauling her back into his arms, his eager mouth seeking hers, Garrett showed her he wasn't shocked at all.

The End