Chandra felt as if she was on the merry-go-round of eternal bliss and that she never wanted to get off.

She’d returned from the Brandywine Valley filled with a joy that prompted her to pinch herself to make certain she wasn’t dreaming. She and Preston had stayed over until Monday afternoon, because she had to clean her apartment. The delivery of furniture that had been in Belinda’s house was scheduled for Thursday. Preston had offered his cleaning service, but she’d turned him down because she needed to work off the tension that usually accompanied the onset of her menses.

The shipping company contacted her with the news that her trunk had arrived from Belize and wanted to set up a time for a delivery. She gave them her new address, and the trunk arrived an hour after all the other furniture was set up in the one-bedroom co-op with views of the riverside park dubbed Penn’s Landing.

She’d just emptied the steamer trunk and covered it with a colorful handwoven Indian rug in the space near the door when the intercom rang, startling her.

Pressing a button, she spoke softly into the speaker. “Yes.”

“I have a delivery for Ms. C. Eaton,” announced a slightly accented male voice.

“Come on up.” She pressed another button, disengaging the lock on the outer door.

Once the furniture was set up in its respective rooms, Chandra realized the space was much larger than she’d originally thought. Denise had had the walls painted a soft oyster-white and the wood floors sanded and covered with polyurethane, so all she had to do was wipe away layers of dust and clean the kitchen, bathroom and refrigerator. Her apartment was one of four on the top floor of a six-story building, which meant she didn’t have to deal with someone making noise over her head.

The doorbell chimed Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. Denise had installed a programmable doorbell. Chandra had gone through the selections, deciding on a sample of the classical masterpiece.

She peered through the security eye. “Who is it?”

“Pascual.”

Chandra opened the door to find Preston holding a vase filled with a large bouquet of pink and white roses and a bottle of champagne. “You are so crazy.” She opened the door wider. “Please come in.”

Dipping his head, Preston gave her a searing kiss. “Congratulations. Your place is beautiful.” He handed her the bottle of champagne. “Should I take off my shoes?” The light coming from an overhead Tiffany-style hanging fixture reflected off the floor.

She smiled at him. Tonight he wore a pair of gray flannel slacks, navy blue mohair jacket, stark white shirt and purple silk tie. “No.”

Preston debated, then slipped out of his slip-ons, walking in sock-covered feet and following Chandra into a living room with a white seating group with differing blue accessories.

“You can put the vase on the dining area table.” Chandra indicated a solid oak oval pedestal table with seating for six. She climbed four steps to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, placing the champagne on a shelf.

She’d gone to the supermarket the day before to fill the pantry with staples and the refrigerator with perishables. She didn’t have a car, so she willingly paid to have her order delivered. Chandra wasn’t certain how she would be able to get around without a car despite living in the city and having access to public transportation. Turning, she held out her arms and wasn’t disappointed when Preston moved into her embrace. It’d been five days since she last saw him, but it could’ve been fifty-five.

“I have an interview for a position as a fifth-grade social studies teacher.”

She’d checked her e-mail and received responses from two school districts. One wanted her to fill in for a special education teacher on leave, despite her not having special education certification, and the other, within walking distance, had advertised for a permanent substitute position. She’d called, setting up an appointment as a substitute.

Picking her up, Preston swung her around. “Congratulations!”

Tightening her hold on his neck, Chandra stared at the man to whom she’d given her love and her heart. How had she forgotten the sensual curve of his sexy mouth, the little tuft of hair under his lip and the hooded, brilliantly intelligent dark eyes. Then there was the body—the lean, muscled physique under tailored attire that made her crave him whether they were together or apart.

“Congratulate me after I get the position.”

He smiled, the gesture tilting the corners of his mobile mouth upward. “I know you’ll get it.”

“Because you say so?”

Preston’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “Because I know so.”

“You’re biased, Preston.”

“I am when it concerns you.”

“Put me down, Preston.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to show you the rest of the apartment.”

“You can show me the rest of the apartment after we get back.”

“Where are we going, Preston?”

“We are going out to dinner.”

Chandra stared at Preston as if he’d lost his mind. “I can’t go out. Look at my hair. Look at me.” She’d made an appointment for a full beauty makeover the day before her interview.

“I am looking at you, and you’re beautiful. Remember when I wanted to take you to Le Bec-Fin and we had to postpone until another time?” Chandra nodded. “I tried to get a reservation for tonight, but they were booked. So, I decided to surprise the love of my life and take her to the Moshulu instead.”

A smile spread across Chandra like the rays of the rising sun. “Put me down so I can change out of these jeans and into something a little less casual.”

Preston kissed Chandra with his eyes before his mouth covered hers in a hot, hungry kiss. “Don’t take too long.” He lowered her until her feet touched the floor. “Go, before I change my mind and—”

“And what, Preston?”

“And have you for an appetizer, salad, entrée and dessert.”

Taking a step, Chandra pressed her breasts to his hard chest. “Start counting. I’ll be ready within fifteen minutes.”

Preston sat across the table from Chandra in the main dining room on the permanently docked tall ship overlooking the Delaware River. If it had been warmer or earlier in the year, he would’ve reserved one of the open-air upper decks. He couldn’t pull his gaze away from her face.

They’d ordered chilled jumbo shrimp with a horseradish cocktail sauce from the raw bar and an appetizer of crispy duck wontons filled with hoisin barbecue duck confit and scallions and covered with a sweet soy glaze and chopped cilantro. Both passed on the soup and salad. Chandra’s entrée choice was Gulf Coast mahimahi, while Preston selected the Amish chicken breast.

It’d taken her exactly fifteen minutes to change from a pullover and jeans and into a black wool sheath dress ending at her knees, matching sheer hose and suede pumps. A mauve hip-length mohair jacket pulled her winning look together. His gaze caressed her lightly made-up face—a face displayed to its best advantage with her shoulder-length hair fashioned into a classic chignon.

“You look incredibly beautiful tonight,” he whispered reverently. “And if you tell me I’m biased I’m going to kiss you until you lose your breath,” Preston threatened.

Chandra took a breath and affected a demure smile. Not seeing Preston for several days had afforded her time to step back and assess their whirlwind relationship. At first she’d begun second-guessing herself, believing it was because of her collaborating with him on Death’s Kiss that Preston felt the need to profess to love her. That it all would come to a screeching halt once he completed the play.

Then she woke one morning, shaking with fear and uncertainty from a disturbing dream. It was upsetting because it was the first dream she’d had since returning from Belize. Unlike the others, in this one she could see a man’s face. He was laughing and pointing at her, while others joined in with their own derisive mockery. She hadn’t wanted to believe it, but the man was Preston Tucker.

She’d reached for her cell with the intent of calling and telling him she couldn’t continue to see him, but her fingers refused to follow the dictates of her brain. Once she recovered from the terrifying nightmare, Chandra knew her distrust of men had reared its ugly head.

However, what she felt for Preston was real, pure. She hadn’t fallen in love with Preston J. Tucker, award-winning playwright. She’d fallen in love with Preston, the man.

She loved him, Denise was in awe of him, Griffin had taken on the responsibility of representing him professionally and her parents liked him. Whenever she spoke to Roberta, she always asked about Preston.

“Thank you, Preston.”

Chandra wanted to tell Preston he looked deliciously handsome, but couldn’t get her tongue to form the words. What the hell is wrong with me? She managed to get one of Philly’s most eligible bachelors to date her exclusively; meanwhile she was acting like an uptight snob who seemed not to want to give him the time of day.

Reaching across the table, Preston took Chandra’s hand. He smiled, but the warm gesture did not reach his eyes. They were cold, his expression a mask of stone. “What’s the matter?” he asked perceptively.

“Nothing, darling.”

“Don’t darling me, Chandra. I know when something is bothering you.”

“Have you suddenly become clairvoyant, or have you always been able to read minds?”

Preston decided to ignore her acerbic retort. Something was bothering her and he intended to uncover what it was. Perhaps something or someone was bothering her. When he spoke to Chandra on Tuesday, she’d mentioned she had menstrual cramps, and that meant he had to wait to make love to her.

“No, but I grew up in a house with two females, so I’m familiar with them PMSing.”

Chandra rolled her eyes. “For your information, I’m finished with my cycle,” she whispered.

“If it’s not that, then what is it, Chandra?”

She knew she had to tell Preston what had her on edge. “I had a dream the other night.”

Preston’s impassive expression did not change with her revelation. He’d waited weeks for her to tell him about the dreams that had become the foundation for his latest work. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Chandra told him—everything. She saw his gaze grow hard, resentful. If they hadn’t been in a public place, she knew she wouldn’t have been able to rein in her emotions.

Preston signaled for the waiter, then reached into the pocket of his slacks to leave two large bills on the table. Pushing back his chair, he stood, came around the table and helped Chandra to her feet. He’d heard enough.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Chandra quickened her pace to keep up with Preston’s longer legs. “Will you please slow down.” She was half jogging and half running, and in a pair of heels. “What’s going on, Preston?”

Tightening his grip on her hand, Preston shortened his stride. He had to leave the restaurant, or else cause a scene and bring attention to himself and Chandra. He’d grown up listening to his parents bicker and snipe at each other, and that was something he wanted to avoid, at all costs, with Chandra.

They were steps from her building when he felt composed enough to explain why he’d left the restaurant so abruptly. “When are you going to learn to trust me, Chandra? I’m aware that we’ve only been together a month, and I don’t believe I’ve ever given you cause to mistrust me. I haven’t dated or looked at another woman since we’ve been together. What is it you want? Tell me, what do I have to do?”

Chandra moved closer to Preston as much to feed off his body’s heat as for solace. “I never said you cheated on me.”

“You didn’t have to,” he countered. “What you refuse to do is trust me to love you, protect you, or to be there for you.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“Hell, yeah, I’m overreacting. You can’t tell me you weren’t bothered by your dream if you keep looking at me sideways and hoping I’ll mess up so you’ll have an excuse to send me packing.”

“That’s not true, Preston.”

“It has to be true, Chandra.”

“Are you calling me a liar, Preston?”

“All I’m saying is that I don’t believe you.”

Chandra stopped abruptly, causing Preston to lose his footing. However, he recovered quickly, glaring down at her like an avenging angel. The streetlamps threw long and short shadows over his face, distorting his pleasant features.

She threw up her free hand. “I don’t know what I can do or say to convince you that I do trust you.”

Preston’s eyes narrowed. “There is one thing you can do.”

Pulling back her shoulders, she raised her chin. “What?”

A beat passed. “Marry me.”

There came another pause before Chandra asked, “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Preston retorted.

Chandra started to walk, but she was thwarted when Preston pulled her back to where he stood. Her temper flared, invisible tongues of red-hot fire sweeping up her chest, scorching her face. “Do not play with me.” She’d enunciated each word as if he were hard of hearing.

“I’m too old to play games, Chandra. I’m going to ask you one more time if you want to marry me, and if I don’t get an answer, then I’m going to walk away and never look back.”

Chandra swallowed in an attempt to relieve the constriction in her throat. Preston Tucker was asking what every normal woman wanted the man with whom they’d fallen in love to ask: Will you marry me? Meanwhile, she stood like a statue on the spot, her tongue frozen between her palate and her teeth. All the while her heart was beating so fast she was certain she was going to faint.

Somewhere between sanity and insanity, good and evil, right and wrong she found a modicum of strength. Preston was right—they’d only known each other a month—four short, intense, passionate weeks in which she was able to communicate—in and out of bed—with a man who treated her as his equal. She didn’t know whether it was fate, serendipity or destiny that she’d left her case in that taxi for Preston Tucker to find, but Chandra knew she had to believe something beyond her control deemed that Preston would become a part of her life and her future.

She panicked, a riot of emotions attacking her from all sides when he released her hand.

He was going to walk!

She couldn’t let him walk!

“Yes!” The single word was a shriek. “Yes, Preston, I will marry you.” She was shaking, tears were flowing, and Chandra wasn’t certain how much longer her quivering legs would be able to aid her in remaining upright.

Preston felt his knees buckle slightly before he drew himself up to his full height. He’d gambled and he’d won. He hadn’t seen Chandra in five days, but it’d taken only one for him to realize why he’d been drawn to her and why he wanted her not only in his life but also a part of his life.

He’d dated women much more beautiful, women who could buy and sell a man with the scrawl of a signature on a bank check and women so eager to please that they’d sell themselves for any price. Women whose names and faces paled in comparison to the one standing before him.

Preston knew Chandra was the one within seconds of the elevator doors opening, and he’d come face-to-face with the woman who’d recorded her erotic dreams.

Cradling her face between his hands, he kissed her quivering mouth, then her tears. “Shush-h-h. Don’t cry, baby. We’re going to have a wonderful life together.”

Preston’s attempt to console Chandra elicited more tears. Moving closer, she cupped his hands. “I love you so much,” she whispered against his parted lips.

“Come home with me, baby.” He’d punctuated each word with a kiss at each corner of her mouth.

“Why?”

“I want to make love to you.”

Chandra smiled through the moisture shimmering on her lashes like minute raindrops. “We don’t have to go to your place. I have protection. And I’ll treat you to breakfast in bed if you decide to spend the night.”

Preston kissed the end of her nose. “You are incredible.”

“Thank you.” She wanted to tell the man she’d promised to marry that he was incredible, because he’d gotten her to fall in love and agree to marry him within the span of a month.

“We can’t sleep in too late tomorrow because I want to take you shopping for an engagement ring.”

Chandra nodded numbly. The enormity of what she’d agreed had become apparent with the mention of a ring. She’d taken a step forward, and now it was too late to backtrack.

“I think there’s something very wrong with us, Preston, if we always end up sucking face in public.”

Preston smiled. “On that note, we should head upstairs.”

Chandra and Preston shared a secret smile as they rode the elevator to the sixth floor. No words were needed. Everything they wanted to say had been said.

After closing and locking the door, Chandra reached for her fiancé’s hand, leading him in the direction of her bedroom. She hadn’t drawn the silk drapes and sheers at the wall-to-wall windows and the light from a full moon silvered every light-colored object in the room. She took her time undressing Preston: shoes, socks, jacket, tie, cuff links, shirt, belt, slacks and briefs. Smiling, she presented him with her back.

Fastening his mouth to the column of Chandra’s scented neck, Preston nipped the delicate skin. He’d become Pascual and Chandra, Josette, he undressing Josette with the intent of claiming her innocence. But instead of a flowing gown with an Empire waistline it was a circa twenty-first-century jacket, dress, stockings and shoes. He searched for the pins in her hair, letting them fall, one by one onto the floor, the sound reverberating in the stillness of the space.

The sound of Chandra’s breathing quickened when he removed her bra, followed by her bikini panties. “I love you so much,” Preston whispered reverently, pressing his mouth and body to her soft, scented flesh.

Splaying his hands over her back, fingertips tracing, sculpting her ribs, the indentation of her waist and her rounded hips. He pulled her closer to feel the heaviness of his sex stirring between his thighs.

Throwing back her head, Chandra gasped when his rising hardness moved against her mound. Going on tiptoe, she looped her arms around Preston’s neck in an attempt to get closer. She was on fire and needed him to extinguish the blaze that threatened to incinerate her.

A shudder ripped through her, bathing the area at the apex of her thighs with a rush of moisture. “Please!”

Preston heard Chandra’s desperate cry, echoing his own need to bury his flesh inside her. Bending slightly, he swept her up and carried her to the bed. Supporting his body on his hands, he smiled at the dreamy expression on her face. It was his turn to gasp with the back flow of blood to his penis.

Breathing heavily, he lowered his head and tried to think of anything but the woman under him. “Give…me…the condom, baby,” he stammered.

Chandra’s response was to grasp his sex and ease it into her moist warmth. She gasped again. The impact of having Preston inside her without the barrier of latex was shockingly pleasurable. Raising her hips, she wound her legs around his waist, allowing for deeper penetration.

Preston rode Chandra like a man possessed, then without warning he reversed their positions. He cupped her breasts, squeezing them gently as an expression of carnality swept over her features.

He’d always liked assuming the more dominant missionary-style position, but having Chandra on top, she setting the rhythm, made it easier to prolong ejaculating.

Chandra stared at her lover as she raised her hips and grasped his testicles, squeezing them gently as he had her breasts. A grin split her face when he groaned and bucked like a wild stallion.

Holding the sac cradling his seed, she slid up and down the length of his sex, quickening and slowing and setting a cadence that kept him completely off balance.

She felt the contractions as the walls of her vagina convulsed, then Chandra didn’t remember much after that as she surrendered to the orgasms overlapping one another in their intensity to take her beyond herself.

Preston captured Chandra’s mouth as she exhaled the last of her passion. Tucking her curves into his, he reversed their position, his hips pumping as he released his passion inside her wet heat.

They lay together, bodies joined and moist from their lovemaking while waiting for their respiration to resume a normal pace. Supporting his greater weight on his elbows, Preston trailed light kisses over her forehead, cheek and ear.

“I never would’ve imagined you could feel so good,” he murmured in her ear.

“Nor I you,” Chandra whispered.

“We better think about setting a date, because I don’t want you walking down the aisle sporting a baby bump.”

Chandra opened her eyes, trying to make out Preston’s expression in the muted light. “That’s not going to happen.”

“What’s not going to happen?”

“I can’t get pregnant because I have protection.” She explained that she’d been fitted with an intrauterine device that could be easily removed whenever she decided that she wanted to become pregnant. “It can be left in up to five years.”

Preston froze. “You want to wait five years before we have a baby?”

“Of course not, Preston. In five years I’ll be in the high-risk category.”

“And I’ll be old as dirt. I don’t want white hair by the time my son or daughter goes to school for the first time. The first time some kid asks mine if I’m his or her grandfather I’m going to lose it.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I don’t intend to wait that long.”

“When do you want to get married?” he asked.

“How about June?”

Preston smiled. “June sounds good. How long do you want to wait before we start trying for a baby?”

Chandra loved children but she’d found it hard to imagine herself a mother. This was something she’d verbalized to Laurence after he’d proposed. His response was he would leave that decision to her. If she wanted a baby it was okay with him, and if she didn’t then he was content not to become a father. His rationale left her unsettled because she’d suspected he didn’t want children. But, on the other hand, Preston had let it be known that he wanted a family.

“We can start on our honeymoon.”

Preston felt his chest fill with an emotion that nearly overwhelmed him as he tried imagining the joy of becoming a father. “Thank you.”