“Oh, I’ll sleep, all right,” he said, crawling in beside her.

Luke then let out a yawn—which made her yawn—and folded his hands on his stomach. But instead of falling asleep, Camry noticed he started twiddling his thumbs as he stared up at the tent roof. “You do realize that as soon as your father discovers one of his groomers is missing, he’s going to know you’re the one who stole it.”

“I know.”

“Which will lead your mother to believe that you’ll be home for Christmas.”

“Go to sleep, Luke.”

He stayed silent for all of sixty seconds. “Only Grace didn’t seem to be worried about Christmas,” he murmured, apparently talking to himself as much as to her. “She asked me to have you home by the solstice.”

Even though her eyes were closed, she could tell that his thumbs had stopped twiddling and that he was looking at her. “I thought it was strange at the time, but now I know it’s because it’s your birthday.” He snorted. “As well as all your sisters’ birthday.”

“Go to sleep, Luke.”

A full ninety seconds went by before she felt him roll toward her. “And since your big day is December twentieth, I’ve been thinking maybe we could hop on a plane after your birthday party and spend Christmas with my family in British Columbia.”

That got her eyes open. “What?”

Propping his head on his hand as he faced her, he rested his other hand across her belly to cup her opposite hip. “It’ll be fun,” he said with an eager smile. “Mom and André are dying to meet you, and Kate is beside herself with curiosity. She’s been sending me at least ten text messages a day for the last week, asking about you.”

“You told your family about me?”

“Of course. And I promised that I’d bring you home to meet them.”

“But why?” Cam whispered, horrified at the thought of meeting his family, considering she couldn’t even face her own. “What did you tell them about me?”

He suddenly flopped onto his back, folded his hands on his belly, and stared up at the tent roof again. “I told them that just as soon as I worked up the nerve, I was going to ask you to marry me.”

Camry bolted upright. “You what!” she attempted to shout—only it came out as a squeak.

He hadn’t really just mentioned the M-word, had he?

He also sat up, and took her suddenly trembling hands in his. “I was going to wait until after we found Podly and you made up with your parents to ask you.” Two flags of red rose into his shadowy beard. “In fact, I even planned to buy a ring and get down on one knee, but . . .” He lifted her hands to his mouth and kissed them. “But when you told me about your strange family traditions yet admitted you wanted to make love to me anyway, I started thinking that maybe I should take blatant advantage of your confusion and propose before we made love.”

He let go of her hands to close her gaping mouth, then immediately placed his finger over her lips to keep her from saying anything.

Not that she could have.

“I realize this is rather sudden for you, so I really don’t want you to give me an answer right now.”

“But you’re only in lust with me,” Cam managed to whisper behind his finger.

He reached down and took hold of her hands again. “Oh, I’m definitely in lust with you. But while we were hiding in the maintenance garage, I realized that lust doesn’t hold a candle to the intimacy we’ve shared this past week.” He took what appeared to be a fortifying breath and held her hands to his chest, over his solidly beating heart. “So, Camry MacKeage, would you do me the honor of considering spending the rest of your life being intimate with me?”

She dropped her gaze to her hands clasped in his. “I-I have to think about it.”

He released what sounded like a relieved sigh and flopped back on the air mattress, pulling her with him and snuggling her up against his side. “Thank you. But while you’re thinking, I’d like you to consider one more thing.” He tilted her chin up for her to look at him. “Marrying me just might be your chance to trump the universe.”

“How?”

“By your getting married before you make love to your husband. That way you can’t ever question that you’re the one doing the choosing, not Providence.”

Cam tucked her head into his shoulder and stared across his chest. “But what if I marry you, then we make love, and I don’t get pregnant?” she whispered, clutching his shirt in her fist. “That would mean you’re not the man I’m supposed to marry.”

His chest fell on a heavy sigh. “Camry, sweetheart, you have to stop letting your fear that something might or might not occur dictate your life. Your only basis for assuming that what happened to your sisters has any bearing on what will happen to you is your belief that tradition is even a tangible integer. But the very fact that your sisters loved the men they married precludes any direct correlation to their getting pregnant. If you were to develop a matrix, with tradition being X and seemingly related occurrences being Y, I believe you would see how rarely they actually intersect. In fact, I’d be surprised if such an equation could even be written, because—”

Camry stifled a yawn and melted bonelessly against him with deep and utter contentment. Because honest to God, the very fact that he was lecturing her made Cam’s heart swell with the realization that he truly loved her!

And seeing how her ears weren’t wanting to fall off, well . . . could that mean she just might love him back?

Chapter Fourteen

Somewhere in the far reaches of sleep, Luke heard Max and Tigger stirring—only seconds before he heard the zipper on the tent slide open. The realization that it wasn’t Camry doing the zipping, because she was snuggled tightly against him, made Luke bolt up in adrenaline-laced alarm.

“You people are trespassing,” said the man holding the shotgun only inches from his chest, his voice a menacing growl.

Luke cut off Camry’s yelp of surprise by shoving her behind his back when she also sprang upright. “We’re not looking for trouble,” he told the white-bearded, wild-haired old man. “We’re just doing a little winter camping.”

Camry peeked past Luke’s arm. “You’re the one trespassing,” she said. “This mountain belongs to Jack and Megan Stone.”

“You look like land developers to me,” the man snarled, though he did lower the shotgun barrel slightly.

Which still disconcerted Luke, as now it was aimed at his groin. “We’re not land developers,” he said, leaning sideways to put himself in front of Camry again. He eyed Max and Tigger, wondering why neither dog seemed particularly worried. In fact, they looked downright pleased to have company. “We’re on sabbatical from work, getting some fresh mountain air before we go home to our families for Christmas.”

“I’m Camry MacKeage,” Camry said, leaning around him again. “My family lives in Pine Creek. We own TarStone Mountain Ski Resort.”

The gun barrel lowered several more inches as the man arched his bushy brows in surprise. “Camry MacKeage, you say?” His eyes narrowed again on Luke. “You Lucian Renoir?”

Luke stiffened. “Yes.”

Their uninvited guest’s expression suddenly turned eager. “Well okay, then!” he said, backing out of the tent—and taking his shotgun with him. Tigger and Max bounded after him. “I’ve been waiting weeks for you people to show up!” he continued from outside. “Dag-nab-it, it took you two long enough to get here!”

Luke turned to Camry with an inquisitive arch of his brow.