"Yes, beautiful." His voice was still husky but he didn't try to hide it. "You're very sure, Kate? You wouldn't want to try it my way for a few months?" His lips twisted. "I don't think there's any way I could let you have complete freedom now but I'd try to stay in the background as much as possible."
"And make us both miserable?" She shook her head. "No way. I intend to enjoy my honeymoon."
"I'll see that you do." His arms tightened and he buried his lips in the curls at her temple. "I want to give you so much pleasure, Kate. I want to give you everything, be everything to you. I'd like to be your father and your brother, your friend and your lover." He tilted her chin to look into her eyes. "It seems that my entire life has been like that little carousel of yours, one long dizzy ride with the brass ring just out of reach. Now it's here, shining bright and true and it's mine."
The sun was almost down now and the rosy haze had turned to a mellow gold that touched everything with a clear radiance. Beau's eyes were golden now, too, and shining with the love he'd just admitted. It was too much. She buried her face in his shoulder once again. She tried to steady her voice into lightness. "So what now? Do we set sail on the Searcher and try to find Atlantis?"
His hand was gently stroking her hair. "I've been searching for Atlantis all my life, I think," he said quietly. "It's all a part of the carousel syndrome. No, I think we'll go to Briarcliff and visit Dany and Anthony. Then we'll go searching for something much more valuable."
"And what is that?"
"Purpose," he said slowly. "I'm beginning to think it may be the ultimate treasure." His lips brushed her temple. "After my Kate, of course."
"Of course," she said teasingly. "That does sound a terribly ponderous goal for a playboy with the instincts of a privateer. Daniel warned me that life around you might be a trifle boring from now on."
"I don't think you'll have to worry about any attacks of ennui. I’ll guarantee to keep interested." He chuckled with sudden mischievousness. "Besides, you shouldn't be so critical when my return to the straight and narrow is entirely your fault."
"My fault? I told you I didn't have the right to ask—"
"Your fault," Beau repeated. He kissed her lovingly on the lips, "How could the vagabond lifestyle of even the most determined pirate possibly survive when his lady is a combination of Xanthippe and the Queen of Sheba?"
Iris Johansen, Blue Velvet
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