29
That night, Orla and Lorcan stayed in the guest room of Roy’s house. Snuggling on the futon, Orla toyed with a strand of hair on Lorcan’s face and looked into his striking blue eyes. He smiled at her. “We haven’t had a proper wedding yet. I’m sorry.” He smoothed her hair and pulled her into his arms.
“The wedding is just a formality. You haven’t proposed properly.”
He hopped up on his elbows. “I did, in London.” She lay down on her arm. “Really? I can’t seem to recall.”
“That’s all right. I’ll do it all over again.” He inched closer to her, and his hands began to get very busy on her body. Some nibbling here, some kisses there, gentle touches in other places. Her man knew how to please a woman, Orla thought. Soon, their bodies tangled in the sheet as they drove each other to the pea
