Page 27 of The Forever Cowboy (Noble Ranch #1)

Sterling approached the house wearily. Now that light was beginning to outline the rocky peaks of the eastern range, it was time to find out Violet’s decision about moving forward with a marriage of convenience.

He’d had time to think on the plan throughout the long watches of the night and dark early-morning hours.

The truth was, as much as he wanted a real marriage with real love, the only woman he wanted was Violet.

She was the only woman he’d ever wanted and always would be.

He’d tried to deny that for months, but since the moment she’d walked back into his life, he’d been reminded all over again of how beautiful and kindhearted and creative and sweet she was.

He liked that she cared so much for Hyacinth and was willing to do anything to save her. He liked that Violet was humble and could admit her mistakes and was willing to grow. And he liked that she was easy to talk to and be with and was always adding her flare to everything she touched.

Besides that, she fit so well with him. She wasn’t intimidated by his personality and never seemed to cower, even during his most demanding moments.

She also had an easygoing way of seeing life that complemented his more driven and compelling outlook.

He knew a future with her would never be dull and that she would keep him from getting too stuck in his ways, and he appreciated that about her.

Yes, he loved her. He loved her like he would no other woman. And he was ready and willing to take whatever future she would give him, even if that meant a chaste marriage, even if that meant she never loved him in return, and even if that meant she wasn’t interested in a long-term commitment.

Yes, he wanted more. He wanted everything with her. But he would also be happy having her whether he earned her love in return or not.

Oh, he planned to try to win her. He would spend his life trying to win her. But regardless of what happened, he would love her and cherish her as long as she would let him.

A light glimmered in the parlor window.

Was Violet awake at the early-morning hour? Already waiting for him?

He halted.

He’d told her he would come for her answer at dawn. Now that the time was upon them, he wasn’t sure he could face her. What if she declined his proposal from last night? Had it even been a proposal? It had been more like a business plan than a heartfelt declaration of love.

Maybe that was okay. Maybe that’s what he liked about it—that he could marry her without all the emotion this time and without the fear of her running away. At least, he hoped she wouldn’t be afraid, that she would see their arrangement as practical and sensible.

He could marry her first and have the commitment in place, and then he could work on earning her trust. It was a backward way to approach marriage with her, but the frontward way hadn’t worked, and this was all he had left.

If he could make himself go inside…

He stared at the softly illuminated front window for a few more seconds before forcing his feet into action, this time heading for the flagstone path that led to the porch. His footsteps seemed to grow heavier, but he made himself go.

He had nothing to lose if she said no. That’s what he was telling himself, since she wasn’t really his anyway.

If she was willing, he would send one of the ranch hands into town to fetch Reverend Livingston.

At least at the early-morning hour, the reverend would be home and would hopefully be willing to come out to do the wedding ceremony.

With his pulse tapping a harder rhythm, Sterling bounded up the steps and crossed to the door.

As he opened it and stepped inside, his heart pushed up into his throat.

He was lying to himself to say that he had nothing to lose.

The truth was, he wanted this—her—so badly he could hardly breathe.

If she said no now, would he be able to go on?

He closed the front door and leaned against it, his hand still on the door handle. He couldn’t bear her rejection again. What was he doing here? He had to leave.

“Sterling?” Her voice came from the parlor. “Is that you?”

He drew in a deep breath. He couldn’t leave. He had to persuade her to go through with the marriage to keep her safe from Claude. That was what this was about. It wasn’t about him. He couldn’t forget it.

He shoved away from the door and forced his feet to cross to the parlor. As he stepped into the doorway, he stopped short.

Violet was standing in the middle of the parlor, attired in a fancy green gown that matched her eyes.

The shimmering material hugged her womanly form, showing off every curve of her lovely body.

The neckline was daringly low, with velvet lace barely concealing her cleavage.

She wore a simple gold necklace with a pearl pendant, which drew attention to the long stretch of her neck and the graceful curve of her chin.

Her dark hair was coiled into a fashionable knot with tiny curls cascading around her ears.

His lungs ceased to function, and his mind refused to work. The only thought running through his head was that she was stunning.

As though seeing his scrutiny, she lifted a gloved hand to her necklace. She touched the pearl with trembling fingers before quickly hiding her hand behind her back. “I have an answer for you.”

From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Hyacinth standing at the end of the hallway. She was attired in her best too.

His heart gave an extra beat. Did this all mean what he thought it did?

He allowed himself another step into the room. The golden candles on the mantel had been lit, as had the candelabra on the piano, lending the room a soft, welcoming glow. Had she done this to welcome him?

His heart pattered harder.

With her crutch tucked under one arm, she didn’t move from her spot in the center of the room, the light from the candles shining on her and making her hair dark and luxurious. Her chest rose and fell, giving him a tempting glimpse behind the lace to the smooth, generous swell of flesh.

His mouth went dry.

He’d always thought she was more beautiful than any other woman, but this morning, she was a goddess, and she had the power to command him body, soul, and spirit. He was helpless to do anything but adore her and admire her and long for her.

What would it be like to hold her for as long as he wanted, to kiss every single inch of her skin?

“Would you like to know my decision?” Her voice was soft and shaky.

Was she nervous?

He swallowed the desire that had risen rapidly within him, and he tried to cool his thoughts and corral them from the direction they’d been going, which had been completely selfish and concerned with only his own pleasure instead of how she was feeling and what she needed.

He made himself walk calmly forward across the rug toward her. He would have married her in this room back in April if things had been different between them. Could he keep them going in the right direction now?

Her eyes rounded with each step that he drew nearer. Despite her hurt ankle, she held herself with such poise and beauty that he had a hard time remembering how skittish she was.

Even though he wanted to go to her, wrap her in his arms, and draw her close enough that he could feel the suppleness of her body, he made himself stop an arm’s length away.

“Whatever you want to do,” he said in a low voice that came out huskier than he’d intended. “I’ll respect your decision.”

She nodded, visibly swallowed, then lifted her chin. “What I want to do is have a wedding.”

He held her gaze for a moment. Was she speaking the truth? Or was she trying to appease him?

“I’m ready, Sterling. I promise.” She hobbled closer, lifted a hand as though she wanted to reach for him, but then lowered it and clasped her hands together in front of her.

He closed the distance between them, then tentatively took hold of her hands. “Are you sure?”

“I’m not going to run away this time.” Her voice shook.

“But you’re thinking about it?”

She hesitated, capturing her bottom lip with her teeth.

He had to glance away, couldn’t watch her or he would groan and embarrass himself with his desire for her.

“I admit,” she whispered. “I am nervous.”

“What would help ease your mind?”

She lifted her face to his, giving him a view of her elegant neck and the exquisite pale skin just waiting to be explored.

By him. Only him. He never wanted another man to touch her.

He was suddenly insanely jealous at the thought of any man ever touching her.

He wouldn’t let that happen—not in the dancehall, not anywhere.

She bit her lip again.

Heat spilled through him—a heat that was molten and thick and full of fire.

“Would you kiss me?” she asked softly. “That might help—”

Before she could finish, he bent and touched his lips to hers.

She released a tiny breathy sigh. Of happiness?

Whether happy or not, she’d asked him to kiss her. That had to mean something, didn’t it? It had to mean she felt connected to him or at least was still attracted to him.

Her mouth met his hungrily, without any tentativeness, just like the last time they’d kissed.

He couldn’t contain his own hunger, which had been building over the hours.

He delved in and tasted her, letting himself feast on her lips and giving back to her the feast she was asking for.

He loved the give and take of their kiss, loved the forcefulness of her passion, and loved the eagerness with which she savored him in return.

It was almost as if she knew what she wanted and was trying to tell him so. Was it possible she wanted marriage with him, maybe always had, but just wasn’t sure how to chase away the demons of her past?

Even as her kiss turned deeper, a warning inside him told him he had to be patient, had to go slow, and needed to use caution.

A banging at the back of the house startled him, and he broke away from her.