"I just don't see why you don't turn him in to the police."

I scoffed at John, shoving my belongings in a semblance of order in my satchel, hoping that my new group of students don't have any complicated names that year. "That wouldn't solve anything, and you know it."

John blocked my path and I sighed; ever since Grayson had assaulted me during the Professor's Ball, John had made it a point to bring up turning him in to the authorities multiple times a day, and, so far his argument was going nowhere. "Explain it to me."

My eyes locked with his; I could hardly stand to have anyone near me, for, in my nightmares, Grayson's hands were still crawling all over my skin like invasive spiders. "The truth, John, is that Grayson's cousin, Jackson, is Chief of Police."

John's mouth dropped open. "What?" he whispered.

"So, as you can see," I went on, ducking underneath John's arm and heading from my study, through the living room, and into the kitchen, "it wouldn't matter if I did a damn thing. At the end of the day, it's my word against his."

"I witnessed it," John said, speaking through gritted teeth.

I winced as I fumbled with the fruit bowl; I was always nervous on the first day of school, and so while I knew I needed to eat, I always kept it light. "That may be so," I said softly, ultimately settling on an apple to munch on, "but Jackson Humphries never takes any chances when it comes to his family. He'll ask really invasive questions of you, John, and I just don't want you to have to go through all that."

"Ah," John said softly. "So, he is prejudiced as well, then?"

"Many people are," I told him. "In that regard, not many things have changed. Hell, I say anyone who's in love should get married, but, quite frankly, I don't see that happening for a long, long time, given that interracial marriage only became legal last year," I said, shaking my head. "It's downright criminal, is what it is. You love someone, marry them, that's what I say. To hell with Congress, the House, the Senate, the Supreme Court, and the White House."

"And you really believe that Police Chief Humphries wouldn't look out for your best interests as opposed to Grayson's?" John asked, spitting his name.

I shook my head. "Not on your life," I told him, looking at him over my shoulder. "They look out for the Humphries family first. Lots of families are like that." Sighing, I lowered my eyes and shook my head again. "If I were to take this to the authorities, Grayson would only need to open his mouth and declare that I willingly went out on a date with him beforehand, and that I was aware that he previously had romantic attentions towards me. He will state that I was not only receptive of those intentions, but a more than willing participant, despite the fact that I never even kissed him..."

"You never kissed him?" John breathed, his voice choked.

Slowly, I looked up at him. "No," I said softly. "No, I didn't. Ever. He kissed me on the cheek, and that was all."

John dragged a hand down his face. "For goodness sake. I've been an idiot."

I gave John a small smile, tossing the remains of my apple into the trash can, no longer hungry as I stepped towards him. "Happens to the best of us," I told him, standing on my toes and pressing a soft kiss onto his cheek. "Don't worry. I won't hold you accountable for it."

"Please," John said, following me to the front door and hesitating slightly as I pulled on my blazer and opened it up. "Please, Alexandra. Be careful today."

I turned around and smiled at John. "I won't let him ruin my livelihood, John. Let's just hope that, one day, Grayson gets what's coming to him," I said softly, raising my hand and waving to him, before I slipped outside, ready to face the world.

~*~

I managed to keep my head down in the weeks that followed, and, mercifully, Grayson no longer seemed interested in me in any way. I wished I could have forgotten the apologetic expressions he'd given me during the first week of classes, but I sucked it up and ignored him. If I wanted to keep my job, I wouldn't make waves, and I fully intended upon keeping my job.

With Toby away flying that week and Layla taking it easy due to her advanced stage of pregnancy, John and I volunteered to take the girls Trick or Treating that Halloween. I got myself some black cat ears and a tail, plus did up my face and painted on whiskers and a black nose to complete the ensemble. John wore his uniform he'd arrived in, while Alexa dressed up as a princess, and Ruthie was a ladybug. John was introduced to all our favorite chocolates and candies, and he was in heaven. While Alexa's favorite was Now & Laters, Ruthie liked SweeTarts, John liked Butterfinger, and I liked vanilla Charleston Chews.

Thanksgiving was a lively affair at Toby and Layla's house, and Toby and John kept the girls occupied while I made dinner, with Layla keeping a strict watch upon me. As it was John's first Thanksgiving, I knew it had to be extra special, and I was pulling out all the stops for it to be so, without any complaints. Dinner that evening went off without a hitch, and all seemed to be well, for the moment, at the very least. As I sat there, watching Toby carve the turkey, Layla reminding everyone that she was eating for two, and Alexa and Ruthie fighting over the drumsticks, I stared across the table, and noticed that John was looking at me, and the smile he gave me was one in a million. Logically, I knew he would have to go back through the stones one day, but, in that moment, I knew that it would break my heart in two.

It was the first weekend in December when, in the early hours of Saturday morning, I received a phone call. My clock read that it was just after three in the morning and I hastily sprang for the phone, lifting it up from the receiver and pressing it to my ear, crossing my fingers that no one was hurt and that the incessant ringing hadn't woken John. Fumbling for something as cumbersome as a bulky telephone in the darkness was no picnic, and I mentally crossed my fingers that spiffier phones would soon come onto the market.

"Hello?" I whispered into the receiver.

"Lexi, it's me, Toby," my younger brother whispered into the phone.

"Tobias Raymond Hathaway," I said flatly, in my best older sister voice, "it is after three o'clock in the morning. This had better be important."

"It is," Toby assured me. "Layla's in labor. We're over here at Watts Hospital, and Layla asked me to call you and ask if you and John would come over and be here."

I immediately sat up in bed. "Where are the girls?"

"Mrs. Fairfax has them," Toby said quickly, and I sighed with relief as I envisioned the matronly neighbor of my brother and sister-in-law, who was likely in the running for nicest woman I'd ever met, behind Mama, of course. "Please say you'll come."

"I'll wake up John," I said quickly. "We'll try to be there within the hour."

"Thanks, Lexi," Toby said. "I owe you one."

"And don't you forget it," I joked, hanging up the phone and pulling on my robe, as well as stepping into my slippers, as I ran across my bedroom and threw open the door, hightailing it down the hallway and knocking at John's door. "John? John! Wake up. It's me."

John mumbled something in his sleep for a moment, clearly waking up, given that I heard the shuffling of his feet a moment later, and the door was pulled open. "What is...?" John turned pink almost immediately and faced halfway away from me. "Is something wrong, Alexandra?" he asked, slightly panicked.

I rolled my eyes and bundled my robe more closely around me. "Layla is in labor, and she is at a hospital not too far away from here," I told John. "Toby has just called, and told me that Layla has asked that we come and wait there. Is that all right with you?"

John nodded, still not looking at me. "Yes, yes, fine. Let me get dressed."

I nodded back at him. "No problem," I replied, turning around and heading back to my room, whereupon I pulled on a pair of jeans and a flannel, as well as a pair of comfortable sneakers. I trudged to the bathroom, splashed water on my face and brushed my teeth and hair, before hurrying back into my bedroom. I slipped out of my room a moment later, pinning my hair up on top of my head, just as John stepped out of his room.

"Ready to depart?" John asked.

I gave him a small smile. "Yes. Let's go."

We headed out to my car immediately thereafter, John getting shotgun, and met getting behind the wheel. We drove at a steady pace, and soon got into the familiar hospital parking lot, where Alexa and Ruthie had both been born. Securing a parking space, John and I stepped in through the main doors and located the front desk.

"Good morning," I said to the nurse. "My name is Alexandra Hathaway. My sister-in-law, Layla Hathaway, is in labor. My brother called and asked us to come down."

"Of course, Miss Hathaway," the nurse said, scanning the book in front of her. "Second floor, third door on the left is where she is. The waiting room for the maternity ward is just to the right of the elevators."

I beamed at the nurse. "Thank you," I said quickly, and pulled John by the arm and towards the elevators, relieved to find that we were the only ones around. I pressed the "Up" button and sighed with relief when they promptly dinged open for the two of us. Stepping inside, I instructed John to press the "2" button, and we were launched upwards to our final destination. I flew out of the elevator and meandered towards the waiting room.

"Should we inform Toby of our arrival?" John asked.

I shook my head at him. "Knowing Layla, she'll spend a lot of the labor telling Toby how much she hates him," I replied, and John looked horrified. "Don't worry; she doesn't mean it. Her words just run away with her when she's in pain."

John slipped into an available chair. "I'll take your word for it."

I grabbed the seat next to him. "Trust me on this," I told him. "With Alexa and Ruthie, it was the exact same thing."

However, we were both in for a shock, as Toby never came into the waiting room like a whipped puppy, and I was relieved. Third time's the charm, after all. Then, an hour later, there were hurried footsteps along the hallway, and Toby himself burst into the waiting room, his eyes red from crying.

"So?" John whispered, promptly getting to his feet.

I followed suit. "Do we have a Dorothea, or do we have a Trevor?"

Toby, who appeared shell-shocked for a moment, promptly broke into a grin. "We have a Trevor," he said softly.

I gasped and dashed across the waiting room towards him, throwing my arms around him, and Toby must've been so overjoyed that he lifted me clear off the ground. "Is Layla all right?" I wanted to know, once he put me down.

"She's done beautifully," Toby said, still crying. "Go ahead and go down the hall. She was asking for you."

I nodded at my brother and followed his advice, listening as John congratulated Toby from behind me. I navigated my way down the hallway, to the third door on the left, and gently pushed the door open. "Layla?" I asked softly.

Layla was sitting up in her bed, smiling brightly when she caught sight of me. "Come in," she said, and I went towards her, the door snicking shut automatically behind me. "Come and meet your little nephew, Trevor John Hathaway."

I reached the side of the bed and leaned forward, gasping aloud once more as Layla pulled down the blue blanket wrapped around my nephew's little face, revealing a beautiful little boy. I smiled down at him automatically, at the Hathaway nose, the Jenkins hands... Everything about him was absolutely perfect.

"Here," Layla said, holding him out to me, and I promptly pulled the bedside chair even closer before I took him into my arms. "Seven pounds, nine ounces. Twenty inches long. They said he was perfect," she whispered, tears flowing down her face.

"And he is," I quickly assured her, gently rocking my nephew in my arms. "Hello, you absolutely gorgeous little man," I whispered, not wanting to wake him up. "We certainly waited a long time for you, little one. I love you so much..."

"Will you be his godmother, Alexandra?" Layla asked, and I looked up at her. "It makes sense, because you're Alexa and Ruthie's godmother..."

I nodded at her. "I'd be honored," I told her.

"Toby's asking John right now if he'll be godfather to his little namesake," Layla told me. "I just hope he says 'yes'..."

"I'm sure he will," I whispered. "Um... Why did you name him after John?"

Layla smiled slowly at me. "Nothing as ever as it seems to be, Alexandra," she told me. "And I'm not blind."

I was about to ask her something further, but shut up as the door opened, and Toby and John stepped inside, John's expression melting at the sight of Trevor in my arms. "Could John meet his namesake?" I asked Layla.

Layla nodded at me. "Hand him to John," she told me.

I got to my feet and crossed over to John, handing Trevor over to him, and my heart hammered within my breast at the picture John painted, holding a baby with a look of such warmth and affection that it brought tears to my eyes all over again. "Well?" I asked, as I vaguely heard Toby and Layla speaking behind me, and John looked up at me. "Did you say yes?"

John smiled. "To being Trevor's godfather, you mean?"

I nodded. "That's exactly what I mean."

John nodded back at me. "Of course I did," he replied, returning his gaze onto Trevor. "Nearly nothing would make me happier than being involved in this little one's life..."

"Nearly nothing?" I whispered.

John looked up at me once again, his expression serious. "Nearly nothing," he replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

~*~

One week later, I was cleaning up my classroom once again, relieved that the Christmas holidays were finally upon us. My only plans were helping out Layla with little Trevor, as Toby had to fly quite a bit over the holidays. The only silver lining was that he would be getting paid double for the flights and, at my suggestion, had hired a housekeeper for Layla as an early Christmas present, much to her delight. Although, when my sister-in-law asked me if I had anything to do with Toby's seemingly bright idea, I wholeheartedly denied it.

As I finished gathering the final midterm examinations I needed to grade over the holiday, I looked up as there was a knock at my door. "Oh! Headmaster Radclyffe," I said brightly, unsure of what he was doing there, due to the second quarter meeting happening mid-week. "What a pleasant surprise. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"There is an important matter which I must discuss with you in my office, Alexandra," said the headmaster gravely. "Won't you accompany me there?"

I blinked, but nevertheless, stopped what I was doing and stepped forward. "Yes, of course," I told him, and moved to follow him out into the hallway. "Is everything all right? Is a student in some kind of trouble, headmaster?"

"No, it is nothing like that," Headmaster Radclyffe replied, turning the corner, and allowing me to precede him into his office. "Sit down, please, Alexandra."

I took the seat on offer and folded my hands in my lap; I was wearing a knee-length, dark green skirt and stockings that day, along with a maroon-colored blouse, and a gold necklace that Layla and Toby had presented me with as a thank you for being Trevor's godmother. I was also wearing patent leather Mary Janes which I thought were extremely flattering. As I looked up at Headmaster Radclyffe, I found I couldn't quite place his expression, given that he had never looked at me that way before.

"I'll come straight to the point, Alexandra," he said, and opened the top drawer of his desk, which he had previously circled like a shark, and dropped a folder down upon it.

I blinked, suddenly straightening up when I noticed my name, Alexandra Hathaway, embossed upon the lip of the folder. "I don't understand," I said, looking back up at the headmaster. "What is this? What's going on?"

Headmaster Radclyffe slowly opened the folder, and I stiffened immediately at the black and white photographs on top. "Do you recognize these people?" he asked, lifting up the first two photographs, one of a man and the other of a woman, both outfitted in Nazi guard uniforms, with an undisguised pride about them as they stood before the Auschwitz internment camp.

I sat rim-rod straight in the chair, and kept my hands clasped together to prevent them from shaking entirely. "Yes," I replied stiffly.

Headmaster Radclyffe remained serious. "Would you care to tell me their names?"

"The man is Raymond Hathaway, and the woman is Erica Morrison-Hathaway," I said, my voice devoid of any kind of emotion.

"And would you care to explain their relation to you?"

I forced myself not to come undone at the harshness of his tone. "They are my biological father and my biological mother."

"Correct," the headmaster said, setting down the first two photographs and produced the third one, this time with Raymond and Erica, only Erica was holding a small bundle. "And would you care to explain who is in this picture with Raymond and Erica?"

I looked up at the photograph he was holding, and saw that it wasn't a bundle that Erica held, but a baby; a baby with dark hair upon their head and wide, frightened eyes. "That would be their first child and only daughter..."

"And who is the child, then?"

"Me," I whispered, fighting against the tremors. "That child...that baby...is me."

"Very good," Headmaster Radclyffe said, setting that picture aside and producing a fourth, this time of Raymond and Erica, still standing outside the gates of Auschwitz, with me in Raymond's arms, and Erica holding yet another small bundle. "And what do we have here?"

"Erica is holding my infant brother, Toby," I said, my voice hollow.

"Ah, I see," Headmaster Radclyffe said, setting down that photograph. "It is dated in December of 1943, twenty-five years ago today, as a matter of fact..." The man shook his head. "It appears as though you are familiar with Poland, Alexandra."

"I barely remember it," I said stiffly. "That was the last time we saw our parents. I remember they said goodbye to us and bundled us onto a train. I had to keep a tight hold of Toby. They made me practice with gradually heavier sacks, so that I could carry him. Daddy and Mama met us on the other end, in London."

"Ah, but you really mean your Uncle Nathaniel and your Aunt Dorothea, don't you?" came Headmaster Radclyffe's condescending voice.

"No, I don't," I replied, fighting to keep my temper. "I mean my father and my mother. They adopted us, wiped any trace of memories from our minds about those wretched heathens who may have sired us, but meant nothing to us in the grand scheme of things. What they did was deplorable, and we were children..."

Headmaster Radclyffe brought out a fifth photograph, which stopped my words dead in my tracks. "Were you aware that they were executed for their crimes?"

I bit down hard on my tongue. "Yes," I whispered. "It doesn't surprise me."

"As you can see here, they are being executed by firing squad," he began, before lowering the photograph and producing another, "and here, their bodies are being hung as traitors, for all the general public to see, to warn them against—"

"Stop it!" I cried out then, covering my eyes and positively trembling. "Why would you show something like that to me—why?!"

"Because inside everyone is a naughty little girl or boy," Headmaster Radclyffe said coldly to me, and I shuddered at his words. "Just as your parents were naughty when they signed up to appease that monster, Adolf Hitler. And, Alexandra, just like you were a naughty little girl when we held the Professor's Ball in August..."

Slowly, I lifted my hands from my face. "What?" I whispered.

Headmaster Radclyffe smiled cruelly at me. "Oh, yes. How you got drunk and demanded that Grayson leave his date in favor of you, and how he considerately told you to return to your hotel and get some sleep. He didn't want you embarrassing yourself."

I shook my head. "What? No!" I cried out. "That's not what happened, sir, I—!"

"Oh, yes, Alexandra. I think you will find that's exactly what happened," he said firmly. "I think you will find life a lot more difficult for you if you say so otherwise. A lot more difficult," he said, and waved the photo of my parents, hung, limp, dead, in front of my face, so much so that I flinched away from him. "So, Alexandra, do we understand each other?"

I gritted my teeth. "Sir?" I asked, finally turning and looking at him again, once I was assured that he had put the photograph away.

"Are you going to be a naughty girl, and make trouble for a good-hearted gentleman, a pillar of his community, cousin of the Chief of Police," Headmaster Radclyffe began, "or are you going to be a good girl, and keep your mouth shut?"

I blinked. "What?" I whispered.

"Because," Headmaster Radclyffe went on, waving the folder in front of my face, "I would hate for you to be a naughty girl, Alexandra, and have your sordid past on display for everyone in town, not to mention the state, let alone the country, for all to see. It would be such a shame, Alexandra, given your promising career here..."

I grimaced at the clicking of his tongue but knew entirely well how to place this game, even though it broke my heart to bend to this slimy bastard's rules. "You don't have anything to worry about, Headmaster Radclyffe," I responded, effortlessly pulling off a sweet tone. "I'll be a good girl. I won't breathe a word."

Headmaster Radclyffe smiled at me, but I was relieved that he didn't put out his hand. "Then we understand one another," he said, the jovial tone of his back in action. "Well," he said, putting the folder back into his desk drawer, "I won't keep you anymore from your plans."

"Thank you," I said, getting to my feet and crossing over to the door.

"Oh, and Alexandra?" he asked, and I hesitated, my hand on the door, and forced myself to turn around to face him. "Merry Christmas."

~*~

I felt utterly bereft after the meeting with Headmaster Radclyffe, and I honestly don't even know how I managed to drive home that day. I sat in the driveway, mechanically pulling my set of keys out of the ignition, and just stared up at the house. John was in there, that much I knew, due to the fact that I had called him shortly before leaving my classroom.

I let out a small, short sigh and got out of my car, locking it behind me, and situated my satchel before I trudged up the walk towards the front door. It was after four already, and I still had to grade that days' classwork, and figure out what was for dinner. I figured I could make a pasta and ground beef casserole with lots of cheese, and pair it with a salad. Nothing I had put in front of John had been a failure, I mused as I unlocked the door, and I was pleased about that...

"Alexandra!" he said warmly, getting to his feet and putting a thumb in one of my leather-bound books as I shut and locked the door behind me.

"Hello, John," I replied, accepting the customary embrace and kiss on the cheek. "What did you find in the library today?"

"Something called A Christmas Carol by a Mr. Charles Dickens," John replied, looking down at the spine of the book. "It seemed appropriate, and I've never heard of him."

"You wouldn't have," I said, hanging my coat in the closet directly beside the front door. "He is an author from the Victorian Era."

"Ah, the nineteenth-century," John said, nodding. "Of course. But I very much like that it takes place in London."

I smiled softly at that as I walked into the kitchen, putting my satchel onto the kitchen island, and began pulling out ingredients for dinner. "It is always comforting to read literature based in our home country," I mused, getting out the pasta from the pantry, having already extracted the pound of ground beef from the fridge, as well as a brick of cheddar cheese.

"You never told me which part of England you were born in," John mused, leaning slightly on the counter, next to where I was working.

I dragged a hand down my face and kept my eyes lowered. "I wasn't," I said quietly, one of my preciously guarded secrets slipping between my lips before I could call it back.

John blinked. "But you told me you were born in England," he said quietly.

I peeked up at him through my hair. "Well, I lied," I said softly, pulling out my cheese slicer to slice the brick of cheddar from the drawer to my right.

John reached outwards, gently taking ahold of my wrist. "Why did you?" he asked softly.

I sighed, my shoulders slumping as I set down the cheese slicer and turned to face him. "I told you about World Wars One and Two?" I asked softly.

John nodded. "Yes. About how they were just as terrible as the Revolutionary War, and that the Second World War killed six million people who were of the Jewish faith." He shook his head, his eyes filling with sadness. "Although I do not agree with their beliefs, I would still want to discuss them, and compare and contrast our religions."

I gave him a small smile. "Not many people think that way."

John leaned against the counter and arched his brow, the pad of his thumb gently caressing the skin on my inner wrist. "You sound as if you are speaking from experience."

"I am." I straightened my shoulders, knowing that I could trust John, given the fact that I had given him clothes, food, shelter, my friendship and, most importantly, my trust. "I repeated the story so often as a child that even I believe it sometimes, that I was born in England." I lowered my eyes then, feeling as if I could shatter at any moment.

"You can talk to me, Alexandra," John said softly.

I bit down hard on my lower lip, positively trembling. "I was born in Oświęcim, Poland," I whispered, my eyes filling with tears. "That's where Auschwitz was located."

"What in the Lord's name were you doing there?" John asked, looking absolutely horrified at my confession. "More to the point, what were your mother and father doing there?"

"Supporting it," I replied bitterly, locking my eyes with his, although my vision swam, due to the tears falling from my eyes. "They were both guards at the camp, and in Hiler's pocket. They were so proud when they had me, and encouraged me to say 'Herr Hitler' as my first words... I wouldn't do it," I said brokenly. "I was only two, and I saw all the atrocities they committed, and it made me sick. Then, Erica got pregnant again with Toby, and I knew that none of this would end well. Thankfully, Raymond and Erica weren't completely out of it, and saw that the end of their regime was near, so they sent us to Daddy and Mama, where we were raised in England." I lowered my eyes, my heart thundering in my breast. "Imagine my surprise when Headmaster Radclyffe called me into his office today, and showed me old photographs from my past, including those with my biological parents..."

"When you said your parents died in the war, what did you mean?" John asked.

"They were executed. Shot by firing squad," I said, the words rendering me cold. "He had pictures of their dead bodies, and he...he showed me..."

John swore under his breath and yanked me by my wrist, which he was inexplicably still holding, and into his arms. "Hush, now," he whispered as I clutched onto him, sobbing into his shoulder, never wanting to let him go. "Is he threatening you?"

"More or less," I said softly. "He says that, because I was born there, because I saw these things, I need to be held accountable..."

"You were a child," John breathed, frozen in shock, although his arms never ceased holding me as he suddenly seemed to awaken and rock me back and forth.

I laughed bitterly. "Headmaster Radclyffe certainly doesn't see it that way."

"I knew someone who was being hunted by a terrible member of the Jacobite army," he whispered in my ear, and I stifled my sobs just enough to listen. "She was English, and so was deemed their property, as she was unmarried. So, a Scotsman stepped up, offered to marry her, because, that way, she would be seen as a Scot, with his name and protection, along with a marriage document, proclaiming her to be what her lawfully wedded husband was."

I sighed. "I don't know if it works that way anymore," I whispered, gently pulling backwards and away from him as I dried my eyes. "And, even if it did, I would have to find someone to marry as quickly as possible, otherwise Headmaster Radclyffe could..."

"Marry me."

My eyes immediately locked onto John. "But... John," I said, sputtering slightly and shaking my head at him. "I couldn't ask you to do that..."

"Despite your religious preference, you accepted me when I told you what I was," John said softly to me, taking my hand again.

"Well, of course I did," I said, giving him a look. "I may be Catholic, John, but I certainly have no issue with you loving who you love, or who you wish to share your bed with. I'm just sorry you faced possible persecution for it in your time."

"Well, I..." John sighed. "This isn't easy for me."

"No, of course it wouldn't be," I replied. "Offering to marry someone, a friend, no less, all because she may get fired from her position. Not to mention the fact that, in case you've yet to notice, John, I am the wrong gender for your preferences."

"That is not what I meant," John said patiently. "What I meant was, I am not positive that I have a preference anymore."

I blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the notion that, ever since I opened my eyes and saw you, when you rescued me in the forest, by the stones, that I cannot get your face out of my mind," he whispered, his voice filled to the brim with emotion.

"John..."

"I always believed it to be just men," John continued, "but something in you has awoken inside of me something I never believed to be possible. I am drawn to you, Alexandra Hathaway, and I find myself unwilling to think of a remedy, save for asking you to be my wife."

I gaped at him. "I have just told you what my parents were, what they did, and still you are willing to..." I shook my head. "It would merely be a marriage of convenience, then?"

John looked saddened at that. "If you wish it, it can be, Alexandra, but I have grown very fond of you, more so than that of a friend..."

I hesitated for a moment. "Might I ask for a favor, then?"

John blinked. "If you wish to, by all means."

"Would you kiss me?" I whispered, and John's eyes widened. "I need to see if we have something called chemistry."

John looked surprised. "Chemistry?"

"It's an expression," I told him softly. "It means that, when we kiss, there is an attraction on both ends. As in, we are both interested in the physicality of it all." I hesitated for a moment. "The last time we kissed, I didn't want it to happen..."

"And I cannot begin to apologize enough for that," John said quickly.

"You're forgiven," I assure him. "But, I need you to kiss me, now. I need you to kiss me, while I'm asking for it, and wanting of it."

John's face set into a firm line. "I will not take you to my bed, Alexandra, unless it is as my lawfully wedded wife."

"And I'm not asking you to do so," I said quickly. "I wouldn't. I haven't..."

John's eyes widened. "I... It is merely that things are so different in this time," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "You have not...?"

"No," I said, and shook my head. "I have not."

John nodded slightly then. "Then, with your permission, Alexandra, I will kiss you."

I gave him a small smile. "Yes. You may kiss me, John."

John kept ahold of my hand in his, but with his other hand, he cupped my face, the gesture filled with kindness and respect. He dipped his head downwards, brushing the pad of his thumb along my lower lip, and took half a step closer. Then, he pressed his lips to mine, kissing me, and slowly parted my lips with his own, gently tracing the insides of my mouth with his tongue, which caused my toes to curl within the confines of my shoes.

My heart hammered from within my breast as I reached out and clutched at his shirt, anchoring him to me as I angled my head to give him better access. I felt his hand slide from my cheek and onto my neck, gently tangling in my long, raven hair as he kissed me all the more deeply, his tongue momentarily retreating into his own mouth, but I chased it with mine, and positively trembled when he moaned into my mouth, and I mewled slightly then as he let go of my hand and reached out, caressing my breast through my blouse before he slowly eased himself away from my mouth, pressing kiss after kiss to the sensitive flesh of my collar bone and neck...

"John," I whimpered, holding onto his shirt so tightly. "Oh, John, please..."

"Will you marry me, Alexandra?" he whispered against my skin, and a feeling of warmth settled within my core as I bucked up against him, aching for release.

"Yes, John," I said, gasping as he sucked hard on my neck, leaving his mark there—Ooh, high-collared blouses or sweaters for the foreseeable future, Hathaway... "Yes. I will marry you," I said breathlessly as he pulled away, and I moaned at the loss.

"I will go into town with you this weekend, and purchase you the finest ring," he vowed, but I smiled at him.

"I can purchase my own ring," I reminded him, for I was the one with money.

John sighed, resting his forehead against mine. "What am I going to do with you, Alexandra?" he asked, but he was smiling.

I smiled slowly up at him. "Marry me, I think," I whisper, and John smiles back at me, bending down to kiss me again.