“You’ve ruined everything!” Milburn shouted and raised his arm. Light glinted off the pistol as he took aim at Perdita.
Vaughn never understood what his father had meant when he’d spoken of a soldier’s instincts until that moment. He acted without thought and stepped in front of his wife. The pistol fired, and Vaughn grunted as the bullet struck.
Pain, sharp at first, then dulling to a heavy ache, but he found himself unable to even utter a curse. Around him everyone was screaming, yet Vaughn kept Perdita pressed safely behind him, even as he stumbled and fell. He struggled to pull his weapon from his cloak as Milburn produced a second pistol.
Mr. Craig stepped forward, pressing Vaughn behind him. “Pardon me, my lord,” he growled and raised his own pistol, firing at Milburn.
The man fell to his knees and landed facedown in the snow, a red pool of blood seeping into the snow around him on either side, his weapon cocked and still gripped in his hand. For a second no one moved. Then Mr. Craig tucked his empty pistol into his coat and turned back to Vaughn.
“Terribly sorry, sir. But your wound would have hampered your aim.”
“Good man.” Vaughn chuckled and then winced. “Good man.” He’d always been glad his butler had a very particular set of skills, and today those skills had saved him and his wife.
His butler nodded solemnly.
Perdita fell to her knees next to him. “Vaughn.”
“I’m all right, darling. Would you mind fetching the doctor?” He kept his voice calm because she was crying and clinging to him. The chaos outside the church had calmed only a little, but he didn’t focus on any of that. He kept his gaze on Perdita and hers was on him.
“And to think you were worried I didn’t love you,” he teased.
Her eyes filled with tears. “Vaughn.” She clutched him fiercely. “Please don’t joke about that.”
He managed to wrap one arm around her as he righted himself. Only then did he dare to look at his wound. It wasn’t deep. He’d been hit in the shoulder, the bullet passing through muscle alone. It was really more of a graze.
“Is it bad?” Perdita asked, holding herself close to him.
“No, not at all. Lucky for us, I’m damned hard to kill.”
Perdita stared at him, blinking rapidly as tears formed in her eyes, and Vaughn knew she was upset at his teasing.
The doctor arrived a few minutes later. His residence, thankfully, was not far from the church. Vaughn and Perdita went back inside while his wound was tended. They sat in the last pew, where Vaughn removed his cloak, waistcoat, and shirt.
“Damn, it’s bloody cold in here,” Vaughn muttered as the doctor cleaned his wound.
“Lucky, that’s what you are,” Dr. Williams said. “Mostly a graze. I’ll bind it up, and you must take care to keep the bandage fresh. No vigorous activity for a few days, I’m afraid.” The doctor shot Vaughn a pointed look and then said to Perdita, “I understand young love and the passion of newlyweds, but none of that, you hear? Not for three or four days.”
“Like hell,” Vaughn growled.
Perdita squeezed his arm. “If he says we mustn’t, then we won’t. But I shall make up for it. Once we can.” Her cheeks pinked in a delightful blush.
“I’ll hold you to that promise, darling.” He had a few delicious ideas of what he’d do once he was mended.
She smiled back, her eyes sparkling with tears. “Good.”
Dr. Williams grunted as he bandaged Vaughn’s wound. By the time they were ready to leave the church, they found Perdita’s father waiting outside. Milburn’s body had been removed from the street.
“Your butler has called for the magistrate, Vaughn. I doubt there will be any further questions. Everyone saw what happened.”
“Thank heavens.” Perdita rested her head against Vaughn’s shoulder. The gesture made his stomach flutter with a quiet sort of thrill, one that lingered and made him feel dizzy.
Mrs. Darby smiled warmly at him. “Let’s get you both home.”
Home. Home with Perdita and her family. They are my family now. With a little grin, he walked with his bride down to the waiting coach, ignoring the twinge of pain in his shoulder. He was not alone. Not anymore.
THREE LONG DAYS LATER, Perdita found herself sitting on the edge of her bed, holding a small box, wearing nothing but her shift. Nerves danced in her chest and belly. She couldn’t help it. Tonight she was going to give Vaughn his Christmas gift, albeit a few days late, and she prayed he would not be upset with her.
Many men would not react well to having matters of pride exposed. But in the last few days so much had changed between them. Since they could not make love, they had lain in each other’s arms and whispered in the dark about their hopes, their dreams, and their lives before.
It astonished her to realize it was indeed possible to love a man who’d been a stranger to her so recently. Yes, lust had been there, but after everything they’d shared, love had crept up on her, silent as a thief, and now she truly loved him. She knew he loved her too. If stepping between her and Milburn’s pistol hadn’t been enough, the last three days had proven it. The gentle smiles, the way he listened, the way they’d lain together, their heads close and limbs entwined. Hearts beating as one.
She sat up straighter when her bedchamber door opened.
Vaughn walked in, flashing her a wicked grin that made her laugh.
“Three days, as ordered. And now you’re mine. All mine.” He started toward the bed, but she held up a hand.
“Wait.”
He stopped, his eyes questioning hers. She looked at the little box and thought of what it contained.
Please understand why I must give it back to you.
“What is that?” he asked.
“A Christmas present, long overdue.” She raised it up, and he slowly took it from her. He was so beautiful, the way only a man could be while wearing nothing save his buckskin breeches and a dark-blue silk vest. Vaughn opened the box, his eyes locked on the gift.
It was, of course, the pocket watch she’d bought back from the jeweler.
“I...” His voice broke as he took the watch from the box. The silver glinted in the light. “How...” He gave his head a little shake. “This was my grandfather’s. I had to sell it.”
“You promise not to be angry with me?” she asked.
“I promise.” His eyes blazed, though not with anger.
“I saw you, that day at the jeweler’s. I didn’t mean to see what I did. But once I realized you might be buying me a ring, I couldn’t let you give up something I could tell was dear to you.”
“All this time you’ve kept it?”
“I was afraid you would be angry with me for buying it back, but I couldn’t leave it there. It belongs to you. You’re not upset, are you?”
His thumb brushed over the silver lid of the watch before he set it on the table by her washbasin. He unbuttoned his waistcoat methodically, then removed his shirt. He loosened the placket of his trousers, but didn’t remove them.
“Vaughn...”
“Remove your shift,” he commanded. His voice was low and dark. His eyes, however, promised that wicked, forbidden fantasies would be fulfilled. She stood uneasily in the wake of his intense gaze. “Now.”
She rushed to remove her shift. He plucked it from her hands the moment it was free of her. He folded it and set it on the armchair by her vanity table.
“When we sleep, you will remove your shift. I like to be beside you skin to skin,” he murmured as he reached up to trail a finger along her collarbone.
Perdita shivered and moved to cover her breasts, but his dark gaze stopped her.
“In this room, I am in control,” he reminded her. She nodded, her body heating. She would never let him control her outside of bed, but in bed she would willingly succumb. She craved his commands, his control. It was both thrilling and exciting.
“Lie back for me, darling.”
She did so, trying to lift her head to see him
as he retrieved his neckcloth from his shirt.
“What—”
He hushed her as he came back to the bed. He took her wrists and bound them together with the cloth. Then he raised her hands above her head and tied them to one of the bedposts.
Perdita’s heart raced. She struggled against the restraints but couldn’t get free.
“Here, alone, we can indulge our dark sides,” he said, a smile curving his lips at the corners. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” She did trust him. The bandage around his shoulder reminded her that this man would give his life for her.
“Good.” He climbed onto the bed, caging her body as he kissed her. His lips moved expertly over hers. Then he traced a burning path down to her bare breasts. Perdita sucked in air as his lips fastened around one nipple. It was an overpowering sensation to feel his hot mouth on her breasts, sucking. He nipped the tender bud, a whisper of pain blending in with the pleasure before he moved to her other breast. He moved lower and lower down her body. Her thighs clenched together, but he shoved them apart.
“You’re such a pretty pink,” he whispered against her mound before he kissed her inner thighs. She opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her with another of his wicked looks.
“You’re mine, sweeting. To play with, to taste. You may only say ‘my lord’ or make sounds of pleasure. Understand?”
She gave a jerky nod and then gasped in shock as he licked her down there. The unexpected burst of sensations had her whimpering, her thighs shaking. His tongue continued playing with her folds and caressing her before he closed his lips around her throbbing bud. Then he sucked on that bundle of nerves, and she screamed in shock at the hard rush of pleasure that exploded through her.
“That’s it,” he coaxed gently as she drifted down from the exquisite high.
“My lord...” She panted softly, barely able to think past those two words.
“Yes?”
She had closed her eyes, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “You are the most wicked man in London. Nay, in England.”
His chuckle surprised her.
“Well, you did marry the Devil of London.” He rolled her onto her stomach. Then, without warning, he smacked her arse with his hand. The blow was not hard, but it made her squeak in surprise. He did it twice more, then stroked his palm soothingly over her bottom. It felt wonderful on the slightly stinging skin. Then she was turned on her back once more as he leaned over her.
“Too much?” he asked.
“No, my lord.”
“Good.” He pressed a heated kiss to her lips before he settled on his knees between her parted thighs. Then he lifted her hips, bringing her close to his lap but lifting her up enough that she could see her body. He tugged his trousers down, and his erection jutted toward her.
“Watch while I claim you,” he ordered. There was a growl in his voice, a hint of the animal just beneath his skin that made her shiver in anticipation. He guided his shaft into her.
“Bloody Christ, you’re tight.” He pushed deeper and deeper into her. She watched in aroused fascination as they joined completely.
He began to thrust into her until they both made soft sounds at the back of their throats as their bodies joined over and over again. “Don’t look away. Don’t shut your eyes.” The muscles of his chest and arms bunched as he pumped into her, and she couldn’t look away, even if she wanted to. Her dark god of the underworld was owning her, body and soul. When their eyes met, she saw in that blinding instant as they came apart at the same time that she owned him too.
Hours later, Perdita lay on top of Vaughn, her legs now tangled with his, their bodies damp, and his slowly measured breathing, that of a man almost asleep, was comforting.
“It wasn’t too much?” he asked.
She lifted her face to rest her chin on his chest. “No. It was perfect.”
The boyish grin she adored was back. He toyed with a lock of her hair, spooling it around one of his fingers.
“A man could get spoiled having you for a wife.”
“Indeed. I am wonderful,” she agreed, biting back a smile.
“Cheeky little chit.” He slapped her buttocks with his free hand, and she hissed. He had shown her his dark desires tonight, and she had discovered that hers matched his.
This beautiful, mysterious man loves me. He excites me. He makes me feel alive.
She kissed his chest and laid her head back down.
“Tell me we shall always be like this.”
“It will always be like this. Except for, of course, when the children are old enough to sneak out of the nursery to find us. It will be even more fun evading the scamps to get a moment alone.” He laughed, the rich sound rumbling deep from his chest.
“You want children?”
“More than anything, except for you.”
She held on to him even tighter. “I’m glad of that.”
He nuzzled her cheek and placed a kiss on her temple. “Are you truly happy to be my wife?”
She lifted her head again. “Infinitely so. And you? Are you happy to be my husband?”
His eyes were serious. “I am. There is something indescribable about the joy of sharing myself with you, of letting you into my heart. It was frightening at first, but now I can’t imagine a day without you.”
“So you love me?” She tried to sound teasing, but she had to hear the words from him.
“I do. I love you to distraction, to the depths of my soul and beyond.”
“I love you too. My white knight.” She brushed a hand over his chest. She’d come to realize that a man in perfect shining armor was a man who’d never been tested. Vaughn, in his tarnished armor, had proven how strong his mettle truly was more than once, and he loved her in ways she’d never dreamed of.
She slid up a few inches to kiss him, knowing that she had found love at last. It was on his lips, on his tongue, and in the way he held her. She knew snow was falling outside tonight and whispered a silent prayer of thanks for the gift of loving someone who loved her in return. It was the sort of miracle she had long given up hope on ever having.
Christmas, after all, was a season for hope, for miracles, for faith, and for love unending.
THE END
Thank you for reading The Rogue’s Seduction! I hope you enjoyed Vaughn and Perdita’s story! For more intense and passionate romances, please visit www.laurensmithbooks.com ! Sign up for my newsletter and you get THREE FREE BOOKS! Get your starter library here: http://laurensmithbooks.com/free-books-and-newsletter/
Christmastide with the Captain
A Laird to Love Novella
By Tammy Andresen
Chapter One
EMILIA STOOD ON THE beach, despite the biting wind and misty air that December inevitably brought. Her hands smarted from the cold but she embraced the sensation, adding it to the list of reasons why self-pity was the emotion most likely to propel her through Christmastide.
They were all going to marry. Each one of her cousins and sisters had fallen hopelessly in love over the last year and were either married or about to be. And poor, quiet, bookish Emilia was going to be left alone in this drafty Scottish castle. Who was ever going to love her?
The grey water churned bits of white foam mirroring her mood. Perhaps she should join a nunnery. Devote herself to God and charity.
Sitting down in the sand, she allowed her head to drop onto her arms. It was not usually her custom to be so despondent but with the Twelfthtide approaching and her happily coupled family about to arrive, she couldn’t help but feel despair. She’d have to face them all alone. Their looks would be pitying, their happiness underscoring her own loneliness.
She’d give anything for those she loved and she didn’t begrudge them a single bit. She just wanted a little sliver of hope for herself. Was that wrong? She sent up a silent prayer that she too would find joy in love.
But her plea was cut short. Out of the mist a booming noise sounded across the water. Her head snap
ped up as the vague outline of a ship came into view.
But something was wrong, the ship listed at an angle and didn’t correct itself as the waves rolled.
Standing, Emilia craned her neck to get a better view but her blonde hair blew into her face. Swishing it away, she lifted her skirts to step closer to the grey water. As the ship moved closer, its outline grew clearer. It was in distress. The sails hung limply as the ship tipped at an even wilder angle to the water. Gasping into the wind, she forced her legs to move as she raced along the beach. She threw open the door to the lighthouse and climbed the narrow stairs.
It was slow going thanks to her morning dress, but she lifted it higher and made her way to the top. Sounding the bell that alerted the castle above, she lit the lamp and prayed the ship would see its light. Then back down the stairs she flew, out the door and across the beach where several rowboats were moored.
If she’d stopped to think, she’d have realized that a single rowboat could not possibly hold an entire crew, but fear propelled her as Emilia climbed onto one of the dinghies and began rowing out to the ship. She heard the chains as it dropped anchor and then the whizzing of the ropes as several other dinghies dropped from the deck into the ocean but her eyes were on the shore as she pushed the boat out past the break to aid the failing vessel.
A rowboat passed her by and one of the sailors being shuttled to the shore called out. “You’re a woman.” As if that was somehow significant.
“Thank ye for noticing,” she huffed back. It would have been far better if she’d been able to deliver it with a good measure of disdain but alas, she was running out of breath.
Another dinghy passed by and she stopped for a moment to check behind and see if everyone was off the ship. It seemed prudent to turn around if they were. Much of her fear had been replaced with exhaustion.
One more dinghy made its way towards her, laden down with men. She watched in horror as a massive wave rolled toward them. With so many men, they were powerless to move out of the way and too heavy to roll atop the wall of water. It took them over, crashing the men into the ocean.
Unwrapping a Rogue: A Christmas Regency Boxset Page 13