Page 171 of To Catch A Rogue

"Good luck with that," she said with a grin.

"Honest might be a push, my dear little thief." Charlie wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger. "But don't be too surprised if I ask you to marry me one day soon. You're mine, my love. I spent years waiting patiently, but I don't think I have that much more patience left in me."

This time it was Lark's turn to choke on her wine.

* * *

The sun setover the Baltic Sea as Charlie made his way across the deck. Lark was in her favorite place in the bow of the airship, leaning into the wind as if she were flying herself. They hadn't had a moment to themselves since they'd embarked.

"How do you feel?" Charlie murmured, sliding his arms around her waist.

"About Obsidian?"

"Mmmm."

Lark leaned back against his chest. "It's an unusual feeling. He feels like a stranger who is suddenly a part of my life. I don't know him at all, and yet... I think I want to." She nibbled on her lip. "I never expected to meet my family. I'd buried them in my heart, so I think it shall a bit of getting used to."

"The pair of you will work it out. If it's any consolation, I think it will be easy. You're both similar in some ways."

"Similar?"

"Solitary, brooding, and you both own a certain penchant for knives." He kissed the back of her neck. "I think he's developing a sense of humor, though it's taking a bit to get used to. I'm not quite certain if he means it when he promises to dangle me over the edge of the airship if I don't make an honest woman out of you. He actually told me that after you left the room."

Lark groaned. "Oh, God. I spent years with Blade, Will, and Tin Man clucking over me like overbearing uncles. Now I actuallyhavean overbearing brother."

"If you form an alliance with Gemma, you'll probably be able to thwart him."

A calculating gleam appeared in her eyes, and Charlie suddenly understood the error of his ways.

Pairing Lark and Gemma was never going to end well for either him or Obsidian.

Two mischievous women with wicked ways?

"Of course, I don't think he'd be like that," he added swiftly. "And Gemma's... Gemma. She can be a little unpredictable."

"Live in fear, Charlie," she said with a chuckle. "Live. In. Fear. Besides, I might have already created an alliance."

She lifted her chin, her braid blowing behind her in the wind as she closed her eyes and turned her face toward the sun.

There was a lightness in her being that made him catch his breath. He'd never realized, before Russia, that there was such a weight on her shoulders, but now it was gone.

"I never actually thanked you for coming to Russia with me," he murmured, sweeping the spill of her hair over her shoulder. Bending down, he brushed his mouth across the gentle bump of her spine. A shiver ran through her, and he opened his mouth and suckled her smooth skin.

"You don't have to thank me." Lark turned around, sliding her arms around his waist. When she looked up, her eyes were dark with need and smoky with heat. "How could I let the man I love walk into danger without me?"

"I love hearing you say that."

"Always," she admitted, biting her lip. "Since the first moment I saw you, though it took me a while to realize what, exactly, I was feeling. You were my best friend and confidant. My nemesis. My prime source of aggravation. You were my Charlie. It was horrifying to realize I wanted to kiss you when I was sixteen. There you were, looking like you'd fallen directly from heaven, and there I was, dressed in grubby breeches. I was a—"

"Princess," he pointed out. "A real Russian princess in disguise."

Lark's eyes narrowed. "I'm never going to hear the end of that, am I?"

"We could make a deal," he mused. "There's a certain nickname I could spend my lifetime never hearing again, if I never call you a princess."

"Why do you hate it so much?"

"It's not very manly," he said gruffly.