"I thought we agreed that your fortunetelling days were over, Lady Alyssa," Ian said through clenched teeth.
"Since Lady Covington is distressed and firmly believes everything will be set to rights if I read her palm, I'm happy to indulge her request." Studying Lady Covington's palm again, Alyssa began to trace the tines running across her hand. "When I look into—"
"I'm dreadfully sorry," Ian murmured an instant before he tugged Alyssa away.
She allowed Ian to drag her a few steps before her shock wore off. In the middle of the lawn, Alyssa jerked her hand from his clasp, refusing to budge another inch. "Allow me to point out, Mr. Fortune, that you have no say over what I can and cannot do."
"Since I'm the one who helps you out of trouble, I believe it does entitle me to some say over your actions," he countered.
"Helps me out of trouble?' she gasped. "If not for you, I wouldn't have been in a mess in the first place."
"No, you'd still be hiding your true identity from everyone, living in a hovel, and collecting pittances for weaving your fortunes." Vibrating with emotion, Ian moved closer to stare down at her. "Forgive me for offering you a better life."
"You didn't offer me anything," she said firmly. "Your grandfather arranged for us to stay with Lady Eleanor, then she graciously extended the invitation after we agreed I wouldn't sign the proxy."
"More the fool am I," he muttered, thrusting a hand through his hair.
Ian's sentiment made her catch her breath. "What was that?" she asked.
"I said I was a fool for refusing the proxy," he admitted gruffly, sounding more like the duke than ever. "I allowed my desire to thwart my grandfather blind me to the feet that you are everything I want in a bride."
Her heart swelled as he pledged himself to her.
"You have a fine lineage, are well-mannered, and pleasant company," Ian pointed out, each item killing the spark of hope within her breast.
"Would you like to check my teeth?"
Ian blinked twice. "Excuse me?"
"Since you seem so determined to break down my assets, I was wondering if you would like to take my teeth into consideration."
Scowling at her, Ian shook his head. "You are determined to misread everything I say, aren't you? Then let me state my feelings plainly so there are no misunderstandings between us." His gaze roamed over her face. "I'm in love with you."
For an instant, one beautiful instant, Alyssa savored the pledge, before she forced herself to look at the situation honestly. Slowly, she shook her head. "You're not in love with me, Ian."
Frustration darkened his expression. "If I weren't in love with you, why would I so desperately want to marry you?"
"Because marrying me is... convenient," she re-turned fiercely.
"Convenient?" Ian exclaimed, his expression incredulous. "Nothing about you is convenient, Alyssa." He placed his hands upon her shoulders and drew her closer. "Did you know I had a pond built on my property a month ago?"
Alyssa shook her head.
"Now ask me why."
"Ian—"
"Ask me why."
Narrowing her gaze, she indulged him. "Why?"
"To provide water for my frogs and my geese." He held her against him. "That's right, Alyssa. I've kept them as pets because every time I see a bloody frog, I think of you, and whenever I look at those blasted birds, I remember how I chased you in the park that evening."
She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off before she could utter a word.
"Is it the most romantic way to prove my love to you? Not at all, but it's my way." He molded her against him. "Are you convenient? Absolutely not. In fact, you have managed to turn my life into one crazy, chaotic, utterly wonderful mess that I wouldn't trade for the world. I don't need any Gypsy magic to see into my future and know it can be more than I ever dreamed possible... as long as you're a part of it."
Hope, so sweet and fragile, grew within her. "You kept the frogs for me?"
"And the geese." Gazing down into her eyes, he pledged himself once more. "I love you, Alyssa."
She'd come to trust this man implicitly. How could she doubt his word in this?
"I love you too, Ian," she whispered.
Lifting her in his arms, Ian swung her around as the garden exploded with clapping and exclamations of delight. But Ian ignored it all and sealed their avowals of love with a kiss.
To the side, Lord Hammond looked on in satisfaction. "I shall have a great-grandchild within the year," the duke predicted, watching his grandson kiss his future bride.
Eleanor, his ever practical sister, asked, "How soon can we have this wedding?"
* * *
The music swelled, filling the church, as Calla made her way down the aisle. Smiling at Ian, she stood to the side and turned to watch the bride come down the aisle.
Ian's breath caught in his throat when he saw Alyssa. His bride. Once Fortune's Lady, now Fortune's Bride.
His grandfather escorted Alyssa down the aisle while Peter stood at his side. His lite, once so empty, had suddenly become full and complete.
And the reason was heading toward him at this very moment.
Stepping forward, Ian accepted Atyssa's hand from his grandfather and led her the remainder of the way to the altar. The Archbishop intoned Mass, but Ian heard not a word of it. Instead, he listened to the beat-ing of his heart, to the music he heard in his bride's smile, to the joy whispering all around him.
Finally, the moment of true joining came. Turning toward Alyssa, Ian pledged himself to her. "I, Ian Howard Fortune, Marquess of Dorset, do hereby take you, Alyssa, Madam Zora-Porter as my bride, in sickness, in health, and in craziness 'til death us do part."
Her laughter spilled into his soul. "And I, Alyssa, Madam Zora-Porter, do hereby take you, Mr. Ian Fortune, the reluctant Marquess of Dorset, for my lawful husband, to honor, cherish, and occasionally obey, 'til death us do part."
As the Archbishop sputtered over the unconventional vows, Ian lifted Alyssa's veil and, cupping her face in his hands, sealed their future, their magical fu-ture, with a kiss.
* * *
"There were times when I feared this moment would never arrive," Ian murmured as he leaned back against the door to his bedchamber.
Desire rushed through her at the sight of Ian's sensual smile. "Our wedding night," she whispered. Three words that evoked such imaginings of promised delights.
"Tell me, Lady Dorset," Ian began as he tugged off his cravat. "Do you have any objections if we plan on staying in our chamber for a few days?"
"How can I make a decision like that without know-ing all of the facts first? You must remember I'm uncertain of what actually happens behind closed doors."
Ian's lips curved upward with a decidedly sensual tilt. "Very well then, my lady. I will be more than happy to demonstrate the pleasures found within the marriage bed... before you make your decision."
As Ian gathered her into his arms, Alyssa tilted her head back to smile into his face. "I am all yours."
"Yes," he rasped, "I know."
Lowering his head, Ian touched his mouth to hers, sealing their vows with a kiss. Alyssa's lips parted, offering him access to her inner warmth, and he accepted the invitation without hesitation. Passion flared between them as Ian deepened the kiss, wrapping them in a haze of desire.
He slid a hand along the curve of her neck, over the mound of her breast, and around her back, molding her against him. Alyssa entwined her arms around his neck, pulling him closer still.
Breaking off their kiss, Ian began to trail his lips along the line of her neck, nibbling at her collarbone, as he undid the buttons running down the back of her dress. Eager to help him, Alyssa turned slightly, giving him better access to unfasten her wedding gown. He rewarded her efforts with another arousing kiss.
The moment all the buttons were released, Ian tugged her dress downward, exposing her corset and undergarments. He pressed soft kisses along the line of her chemise as he loosened the conf
ining corset. Freedom from the tight garment felt wonderful as Alyssa took a deep breath, unconsciously lifting her breasts toward Ian's waiting mouth.
Accepting the offer, he opened his lips over the crest of her breast, laving the nipple through the chemise. The sensual torment swept through Alyssa and she closed her eyes to savor each emotion, each sensation he created within her. She rejoiced when he pulled the chemise down as well, ending the separation between her aching flesh and his skillful lips.
The touch of his mouth upon her bare breasts only made her yearn for more. Wanting to feel his skin against hers, she tugged at his shirt, letting Ian know she wanted to touch him as he touched her. Shifting back for a moment, Ian shrugged out of his jacket, pulled his shirt over his head, and paused to tug off his boots and hose as well.
When he gathered her back into his arms, the hair on his chest brushed against her sensitive nipples, bringing a cry of satisfaction to Alyssa's lips. Eagerly, he swallowed the sound with a kiss.
Trailing his hand along the curve of her waist, Ian pushed her gown and chemise over the curve of her hips, allowing them to fell into a white puddle of silk upon the floor. He curved his arm beneath her knees and, with a lift, cradled her in his arms.
Tenderly, he carried her over to the bed and placed her gently upon it. Kneeling at her feet, he reached up and slid off her slippers and stockings, pausing to press kisses upon her legs. Sitting before him in naked abandon, Alyssa reveled in Ian's desire. His gaze roamed over her as he slowly slid his hands up the curve of her legs, onto her hips, up over her breasts.
Standing before her, Ian quickly shed his pants, giving her a glimpse of his naked glory, before pressing her back onto the bed and settling upon her. Wrapping her arms about his neck, Alyssa urged him downward to claim another ravenous kiss.
Desire exploded between them as Ian angled his head to kiss her deeply once more. After a long exchange, he broke free to nibble at the nape of her neck. Closing her eyes, Alyssa arched upward into his touch. Slowly, Ian began to work his way down her body. Pausing to nuzzle her breasts, he wedged his knee between her legs, opening her to the weight of his body. The feel of his flesh pressed against her most intimate part brought a cry of desire from her lips.
Wrapping her fingers in the silken strands of his hair, Alyssa lost herself to the delights of passion. Curving his hand over her hip, Ian combed his fingers over her womanhood, cupping her heat, making her burn for more.
"Ian," she cried, lifting her lips to his hand. "Oh, Ian."
Slowly he slid one finger into her moistness. A gasp rippled from her as raw need engulfed her. When Ian began to move his hand, Alyssa grew certain she would explode beneath his touch.
Desire pulsed through her, winding higher and higher, burning deep into her very womb, until she needed more, needed him, needed...
Glorious warmth flooded her as she crashed over the pinnacle, all golden and light. The only solid reality in this world of passion was Ian. Little tremors racked her body as she settled back from the heights of desire.
Ian smiled against her skin as he slid further down her body, kissing the underside of her breasts, nipping at her waist, gently scraping his teeth upon her hip. Much to her surprise, desire began to build within her again, burning away the haze of contentment.
"Ian?" she whispered, lifting her head to look down her body at him when he shifted between her legs.
The smile he gave her promised sensual pleasure. Holding her gaze, he lowered his mouth, shocking her. Instinctively, she tried to close her legs, but his shoulders held them open. One touch and any thought of resistance left her.
Spreading her legs wider, she offered herself up to him. Ian's hands curved beneath her buttocks, arching her up to his mouth. The stroke of his tongue against her womanhood sent raw desire soaring through her once more. Slowly, he licked at her, paused to press gentle kisses against her aching flesh, and tormented her with his tongue.
Pressing her feet into the bed, Alyssa lifted herself to his mouth, rushing along on a flood of desire. Explosions rocked through her when he pulled her sensitive flesh into his mouth.
Limp, Alyssa let her legs fall back onto the bed. Gently, Ian pressed kisses against her womanhood, easing her downward from the heights of passion. When her body stopped shaking, he moved back up her body, pausing to kiss her breasts again.
He shifted upward until he now lay atop her. Wrapping her arms around him, Alyssa welcomed his hardness against her. Slowly, Ian pressed his manhood against her moistened flesh.
"Let me make you mine," he rasped as he lightly scraped his teeth along the nape of her neck.
"Yes," she whispered, digging her nails into his shoulders. "Oh, yes."
A groan of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as Ian reached down between them and positioned himself at her opening. Lifting himself up onto his hands, he paused, capturing her gaze with his. "My wife."
The raw possession in his voice touched a chord deep within her and created an echo. Reaching up, she stroked a hand down the taut planes of his race. "My husband."
Passion flared in his gaze as he shifted forward, melding their bodies into one. Gasping at the unexpected pain, Alyssa remained very still until she slowly adjusted to the feel of him inside of her.
They were one.
The thought caused Alyssa to arch into Ian, bringing them closer still and creating renewed desire within her. Eager to embrace more of the tantalizing sensations, she swirled her hips upward once again and deepened the burning need inside of her.
Withdrawing slightly, Ian pressed forward again, bringing a gasp from Alyssa as the movement sent a wave of hunger through her. Ian's mouth tilted upward in pleasure as he began to move within her, sliding into her with sensual abandon until she felt herself race toward the brilliant sensations shimmering just out of reach.
Close, so close, Alyssa held onto Ian as he sent her over the edge of passion. But this time it was far more intense, for more satisfying. A cry of desire ripped from Ian as he buried himself into her one last time. Shudders racked through his body as he poured himself into her, giving all of himself to her, accepting her warmth in return.
Slowly, he lowered himself onto her, molding her against him. Cradling her arms around Ian, Alyssa held him close, feeling their hearts beat in unison. Ian levered himself up onto an elbow and smiled down at her.
"Well?"
"Well, what?" she asked, knowing full well what he wanted to hear.
"Shall we stay locked in our chamber for a few days?"
Shaking her head, Alyssa smiled at him. "No," she murmured in a low voice. "I'll accept nothing less than an entire week."
Ian's husky laughter filled the room as she drew him down for another kiss.
Epilogue
Three months later
Their country estate overflowed with people as everyone came for their first glimpse of the most entertain' ing couple in society.
"I must congratulate you on your feat, Lord Dorset," Peter murmured as he drew back his bow and sent an arrow shooting toward the target. "You've managed to do precisely what you set out to accomplish when you entered society. No, to be more accurate, you've exceeded your goals."
Ian took aim. "And how is that?"
"Not only have you married a titled lady and earned your grandfather's respect, but you've also come into a title all on your own."
Releasing the string, Ian watched as the arrow lodged itself near the heart of the red circle. "I've always had a title, Peter. All I've done is acknowledge it."
"True, but I'll wager you prefer being the Marquess of Dorset as opposed to Mr. Fortune."
Did he prefer it? Ian truly didn't care about the title, but what he did enjoy was being part of a family again. There are certain advantages," Ian replied.
"I'd say." Peter notched his next arrow. "I've always enjoyed the leisurely life of a titled gentleman."
"Not so leisurely these days though," Ian pointed out.
Laughing,
Peter nodded in agreement. "So true, my friend. I always thought I'd despise earning a living, yet I find working with you quite interesting." He sent the arrow flying. "My fortunes are recovering nicely...thanks to you."
"And in a steadier fashion than all of your investment schemes."
"You do have a point." Putting down his bow, Peter gave Ian his full attention. "Speaking of investment schemes, what ever happened to Jennings and his company?"
"Jennings was sentenced to prison for twenty years, as was Arthur Ryan. What few assets that remained from their company were divided up among the in-vestors." Shaking his head, Ian clapped a hand upon Peter's shoulder. "I'm just happy that you weren't one of the men who lost money."
Before Peter could respond, the duke's voice boomed out at them. "Ian! What in the blazes are you doing out here and not entertaining your bride?"
Setting down his bow, Ian turned to face his grandfather. "I believe that time apart is healthy for a marriage."
A snort of derision left the duke. "Then how the devil am I supposed to get my great-grandson?"
"I'm sorry, grandfather, but I'm simply not up to an argument today."
Ian had to smile when the duke began to sputter. "Not up to it," he grumbled beneath his breath. "Out here playing with a bow and arrow instead of acting the husband."
Learning to ignore his grandfather's orders had helped Ian keep a kind of peace between them. "I believe I shall take your suggestion, your grace, and see what my wife is up to."
"I'll tell you what she's up to," the duke retorted. "She's in your parlor with that crystal ball of hers."
Ian's head jerked upward. "She's telling fortunes?"
"To any lady who wishes," the duke confirmed.
Moving to stand next to the duke, Peter watched Ian stride toward the house.
The duke's smile was one of complete satisfaction. "At least the boy's blood is heated now."
"And anger so often leads to passion," Peter concluded. Crossing his arms, he nodded in admiration. "You are a wily fellow, aren't you?"
* * *
Stroking the tips of her fingers over the crystal ball, Alyssa began a low chant that brought twitters of laughter from the ladies sitting in the room. "I see a handsome fellow who is completely enamored of you," she intoned.
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