The Duke's Fated Love

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by Emily Bow


  I arched my eyebrows. That even stunned me. “Millions?”

  He winked. “Guess some folks have an eye for such things, and some folks don’t.”

  I glowed inside. It was a reassurance about my career choice I hadn’t fully realized I’d needed. I wasn’t a doctor, and I’d never touch the stars. But there was value in what I did too.

  ***

  My flight was for tomorrow and I had to get to the airport. Mom had booked me in the terminal hotel. It moved my timeline up a day.

  I found Thorn and Billy in the family room. They had stuff to work out. Thorn and his mom had stuff to work out. I was in the way.

  I didn’t know how to ask to stay, and I didn’t think I should. I jotted down my contact information on a piece of paper from my purse and wrote a quick goodbye. I walked over to Thorn and pressed the note into his palm. “I won’t interrupt you guys.” Heart aching and lightened, I adjusted my purse strap and slipped out.

  ***

  I got home, and my family was in the middle of their routines. That left me in a weird type of limbo, but the second night back we had Tex-Mex takeout, and did a video call dinner with Dad from space and Mom from the hospital, and then I felt at home again.

  Elara passed the queso dip to Chelsea with one hand and tossed me a bag of tortilla chips with her other. “Castle life not all it’s cracked up to be?”

  “It was good.” I used tongs to place one of each type of enchilada on my plate: cheese, beef, chicken.

  “Everything still all confined and small in Europe?” Elara asked.

  “No smaller than the space shuttle you’ll be living in one day.”

  Elara grunted and stuffed a chip in her mouth. She was the prettiest of the three of us, so she could get away with being a barbarian and still look cute.

  “Yeah,” Chelsea said. “Mom told me you repaired a knife wound.”

  “I’m still majoring in history.”

  Chelsea took a forkful of her Spanish rice. “Yeah, but think about it, they could have sliced an artery, and you wouldn’t have known what to do.”

  “Uh, plug it, and call 911. It’s not rocket science.”

  Dad and Elara snickered.

  Mom was the most brilliant of all of us, so she could take the teasing. “Thanks, honey,” she said drily. “We’re glad you’re home and starting grad school in January. Right?”

  “Yep.”

  Chelsea blew out a breath. “History has some cool stuff. I’ve seen it at the museum. But name one thing you’ve seen that compares to Mom stem-cell jacking someone’s brain.”

  “Nothing compares to what Mom’s doing,” I said.

  “Thank you, honey,” Mom said, this time sounding sincere.

  I took a minute and looked at each of them. Mom in scrubs, Dad in a white space suit, Elara in Trallwyn Prep athletic wear, and Chelsea in a boho sage green dress. They were all on the right path for them. I was on the right path for me. “If you’re nice to me, over sopapillas, I’ll tell you how history saved a duke, a castle, and a pub.”

  ***

  The doorbell rang three days after I got back.

  “For you, Imogen,” Elara yelled. “Family room. Delivery.”

  I went into the family room with the overstuffed leather chairs and big TV looking for a box.

  I found Thorn instead.

  Chapter 40

  My heart thumped against my chest, and heat flushed my face. A million questions shot through my mind but none of them were about how I still felt about him. My body’s response told me.

  Thorn. Dark hair slicked back. Square jaw. Tired eyes. He wore jeans and a t-shirt, and he was here. In my family room. Sitting in the giant leather chair under the Texas star mounted on the wall beside a shelf of burning vanilla candles.

  My heart thumped, and my feet could only carry me across to him. “Thorn?” Did I hug him? Kiss him? Shake his hand? He left me that confused.

  “Imogen.” He rose and held out a rectangular leather package between us.

  I took it from him, slightly grateful for the answer of how to greet him. “What’s this?”

  “Open it.”

  The box reminded me of the ones in the drawers in the hidden castle den. I sank down on the ottoman and waved him back to the chair. I clicked open the lid. Inside was an antique sapphire bracelet and a modern silver key.

  My eyebrows arched. “Thorn?”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Yes. Of course.” I shook my head. “I just don’t understand it. What? Why?”

  “My family thought it would look nice on you. Me. My mother. Billy.”

  I smiled that he included Billy. This was a thank you visit then. An unnecessary, but sweet and over-extravagant thank you. My heart needed to settle down, way down. “I didn’t need a thank you.” I lifted the key. “And this?” The key was modern and full-sized. Different from the desk key I’d given him.

  “Go out with me tonight, and I’ll explain the key. Don’t go out with me and wonder forever.”

  My heart changed rhythm again, doubling, and my mind raced. My lips curved up. “I don’t need a mystery to want to go out with you.”

  He winked. “One could argue that I owe you a better date. May I pick you up tonight? For a proper date? No hidden agenda. No one else’s emotions factoring in. Just you and me?”

  I nodded.

  ***

  I pushed on the restaurant’s double door, noting the Private Party sign on the glass and went inside.

  My silk dress with its square neckline, fitted bodice, and swing skirt matched the sapphire bracelet Thorn had given me. The dress was by far the prettiest outfit I’d worn around him and I was eager for him to see me in it.

  Thorn strode forward, wearing a dark suit, his pleased blue gaze on mine. Pop music sounded through the speaker. Fairy lights backlit the room. He took my hand in his warm, large strong one. “You look beautiful.”

  Happiness flushed me. “Thank you.” This was going to be the best date.

  He led me to a small dancefloor. Truthfully, I’d be happy to be anywhere with him, but being here in his arms felt exactly right.

  Confetti fell around us. Each fluttering fleck brushed my hair or shoulders and fell to my feet.

  A beautiful ballad played.

  He’d arranged an amazing night.

  We were slow dancing, and he kissed me. The kiss was slow and sweet and confusing, because this kind of kiss was a promise. Soft. Solid. Certain. Chemistry twinkled through me and I pressed into him. The kiss deepened. Our lips parted, separated, and came back together saying I missed you.

  His kiss was everything, but also, not enough. I needed words. “Thorn?”

  “Thanks for being patient with me.” He looked into my eyes. “I had some stuff wrong. You don’t date the appropriate girl. You date the girl who’s there for you. You date the girl who stays.” He shrugged his shoulders, and the light in his eyes hardened to unwavering determination. “You date the girl you want.”

  His words thrilled me, like confetti on the inside, but I was no longer hiding from our obstacles. I had to bring up his family. “Your mother—” She’d freaking tried to pay me thousands to simply leave and not go to dinner with him. How would she feel about us?

  “You’re my mother’s favorite person in the whole world after me. God help you.”

  Good, I’d felt what not being her favorite was like. Next time Mom’s friends complained about their in-laws I’d be all sympathetic. I bit my lip. “You’re saying you want to date me.”

  “I want a relationship with you.”

  My heart warmed and pushed against my chest to leave me and belong to him. I wanted to kiss him and talk about all the perfect things. Mostly the feelings between us, but I also wanted my doubts gone. I’d had no reason to stay in England. None other than him. And he’d let me go. “I’m in Texas.”

  “You love history. We have superior history graduate programs in England. Or I can look at programs in America. We�
��ll find a place that suits us both.”

  That was significant. That was a gesture. A commitment was more meaningful than a thousand bracelets. My heart pounded shifting my doubts aside.

  He held up his index finger. “I have something for you.” He moved away to a chair I shouldn’t have missed and lifted a cello from a case.

  I covered my lips, waiting, anticipation thrilling me.

  He put the bow to the strings and played “Somewhere Only We Know.” A really imperfect version.

  I loved every faltering note. My feelings dropped me to my knees in front of him. I placed my hands on his thighs. “I will enjoy a relationship with you, Your Grace.”

  “You got my title right.” He smiled and lay the cello aside and pulled me onto his lap. Right where I wanted to be. He tempted me to get lost in him, his cologne, the moment, but I couldn’t. I had one more mystery to solve. I took the key from my hidden skirt pocket and held it up. “What’s the key for?”

  He grinned. “That’s my backup plan.”

  “Yeah?” I tightened my arm around his neck, loving that he had the good sense to have a backup plan.

  Thorn cocked his head at an arrogant angle. “I may have needed it, had you said no to me.”

  My insides fluttered. “I’m so weak.”

  He relaxed his expression. “Had you said ‘no’ to me, I wanted to offer you something you couldn’t resist.”

  He had no idea how much I couldn’t resist him. I kissed his cheek and shook my head. “You had me at a kiss.”

  He kissed my lips. His lips were firm and sure. He tasted like a hint of mint and mystery. He had the ability to be familiar and intriguing all at once. In his arms was where I was meant to be. As if the generations had formed me to fit here. I pressed up against him, and only wanted to be right here, right now.

  A shiver spread from my lips to my knees and everywhere. My arms tightened around his neck—the pleasure of an uninterrupted kiss.

  I pulled away and smiled. “Come upstairs with me?” This time I asked the question.

  His blue-gray eyes warmed and glinted and held my gaze. “Yes.”

  Chapter 41

  The restaurant didn’t have an upstairs but Thorn understood my meaning.

  We left and went to his hotel room. All the steps were a blur and murmur of soft nibbling kisses until the hotel door shut behind us.

  The suite was large and had the TV on one of those welcome to this chain channels. I hit the channel up button so music played. “This is how we started a continent ago.”

  He pulled me to him. “This is how we should have been all along.” His hands roamed to my hips, and I loved it. “How did you put up with me?”

  I gasped as his mouth touched a sensitive spot on my neck.

  His mouth met mine slowly, and the frustration built in me at each lazy brush of his lips. He’d wound me up this summer and had me in his thrall ever since. I wanted him. I wanted the bliss in addition to the chemistry and the aches. I gripped his shoulders and pushed at his jacket. “There’s a romantic answer to that question and a sexy answer. Both true.”

  “I want both,” he said in his deep masculine voice. “I want all your truths.” His hands were warm against the silk of my dress, and he drove me crazy with slow strokes and circles.

  The sensation was so good. I wanted the silk gone, and his hands on my skin. “The romantic answer to that question is that I know treasure when I find it.”

  Thorn paused his wandering hands and cupped my face. He stared deep into my eyes and kissed me, it was another sweet kiss, a promise.

  I swear my heart stopped beating altogether.

  He raised his head. “Tell me the sexy answer now.”

  “I adored how you looked in that towel.” I winked at him. “I could not get the image out of my head. Not during the day, and not at night.”

  Thorn stepped back, and I almost whimpered. He’d been taken from me one too many times. Emotionally. Physically.

  He dropped his jacket and tie and pulled at the buttons on his shirt. My head spun as more tan skin and then more appeared for my gaze. He was giving me everything I wanted.

  My longing came from deep inside, but it wasn’t just his build, his looks, or the love he pulled from me. It was something beyond. My palms tingled. I knew we were meant to be together. He was truly a treasure to me.

  My breathing increased, and I groaned as his hands took my hips again.

  I could breathe in his cologne this close. Yum. I raised to my tiptoes and kissed his neck. I ran my hands over the hard muscles of his chest and down to his six pack. Finally. Finally. I got to have my hands on him.

  He groaned and pulled me tightly against him. The sound of my zipper lowering joined my heartbeat and the music soft and low.

  I backed toward the bed, and my dress puddled blue silk fabric around my heels. I kicked off my shoes.

  I dropped back to the blanket in just my black panties and bra.

  He hovered over me, his weight on his arms, and his lips met mine in another slow and tortured kiss, then went to my neck. I squirmed against him, my body tightening.

  The look in his eyes, no longer moody blue but reverent blue-gray, as if he could look at me forever.

  His fingers brushed the silk of my bra possessively, and he cradled and cupped my breasts. He tugged the straps from my shoulders to my arms and pulled the lace and black silk cups lower so his mouth could find me. He took his time, soothing the ache and stirring it anew, making me awash with longing.

  “Ah.” I couldn’t complain about too slow when his every pull had me clinging and wrapping my legs around his hips. “Thorn.” I gasped out in a voice I didn’t recognize. “Need you.”

  He licked and soothed me, ignoring my squirming as if relishing us together. His hands went to my back, exploring and unhooking, and then there was cool air against me.

  I dropped back to the blanket.

  I reached for his belt and his zipper, hearing the unzip as my hands fumbled to touch him, loving how he groaned and stilled, and then his hands moved to my ankles, running up the back of my calves, exploring the skin behind my knees, determined to move at his pace.

  I whimpered. “So good.”

  “So soft,” he murmured. “Like silk. But better.” I heard the crinkle of a foil wrapper. His mouth met mine in an open-mouthed, wet, tongue dueling kiss. I pressed my aching nipples against his pecs. His abdomen against mine.

  I wanted closer.

  I lifted my knees and hooked them around his hips, rubbing against his hardness, mindless loving the pleasure, the feeling, the ache. “Mmmmmm.”

  His teeth nibbled at the spot where my neck met my shoulder. “Love this. Won’t let you go again.”

  His words, his voice, his actions, they were everything I desired to hear and feel. I slid my fingers over his back, pressing into the muscles, over his waist and under the waistband of his shorts. I clenched my fingers into him.

  He muffled a new groan and traced the elastic leg of my panties, dipping in, playing with me, touching me but not pushing or filling.

  My breathing shallowed and quickened. He had to know I couldn’t take any more. I needed for us to be joined on so many levels. And now. Now was our time.

  “I missed you so freaking much, and I didn’t know how to get you back.” His fingers pressed into me and I shook.

  He paused and kissed me again hard. “We do things out of order you and I.” His body stilled. “I wanted to say I love you with the key, not in bed.”

  “Yeah?” I sounded needy.

  He moved his fingers. “Say it back.”

  I gasped with the movement. “Thorn. I knew when I met you. I recognized you as mine, even when you didn’t recognize me.”

  He kissed me again and used his tongue and my mind blanked for moments until he lightened the kiss. “The words.”

  “I loved you then and didn’t know it. In my mind it was a crush, an infatuation, lust, and enough confusion to make me craz
y. But there was always something more for me, something that wouldn’t let me go, not until you needed me to leave, and I needed you to tell me to stay.”

  “Stay.”

  We kissed deeply.

  “I couldn’t leave you alone, but I denied it. And when you said you weren’t having my secret baby. I knew. All my plans were falling apart around me, but instead of being horrified, it all felt right when I was with you. I knew it because I was so freaking disappointed, I hadn’t tied you to me.”

  “Thorn.”

  He kissed me again and slid his hand to my abdomen. “One day.”

  His action took my breath, his words took my heart. “That’s a big promise.”

  He murmured against my lips, “Promise.”

  The words of love and commitment gave the flames licking through me a solid foundation to smolder on and catch fire. Sparks and zings and traces of sensations I’d felt for him in the past coalesced and merged within me now as he slipped our remaining clothes off.

  Finally. Finally. Him and me. Skin to skin.

  “So soft.” He murmured low in my ear, holding his weight from me.

  I couldn’t take any more of his slow brand of teasing. My nerves were on the edge of my skin, and he pleased me so much. I wiggled up on the mattress so he pushed against the center of me where I wanted him most. “Ah.”

  We rocked together. He leaned forward and nibbled at my lip. “Yes?”

  “Yes.”

  He maneuvered me further back on the smooth sheets and slid forward so we fit. His thumb circled the center of me as he pushed inside, retreated, and pushed forward again creating that delicious friction that fractured my world.

  “Mmmm.”

  His thumb’s slow firm circles, the press of his body. He touched his mouth to mine and the double stimulation set off a screaming ache and a writhing that tripped my heart rate until I closed my eyes and let the euphoric tension break within me. I gasped out his name again.

 

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