Five Golden Rings: A Christmas Collection

by Sophie Barnes

  Her cheeks heated at the images that filled her mind.

  “What the—Eleanor?” Her future husband sounded properly shocked to find her standing in the open doorway of his chamber.

  “I—I hope I’m not disturbing you.” She shifted on her feet, overwhelmed at what she was about to do.

  “Of course not.” He rushed toward her, gorgeous in black trousers and an open robe, the silky fabric billowing out behind him as he approached. “Shut the door, love. And hurry.”

  She turned and did as he bid, trembling fingers turning the lock in its place after she quietly closed the door. Thrilling yet again at the way he called her love. It filled her with hope, silly as that might be. His sweet endearments, his passionate embraces and exciting kisses left her wanting more.

  Wishing that he felt more too.

  Before she could turn to face him, his strong arms wrapped around her, pressing her against the door. His mouth settled beside her ear, his warm breath caressing her sensitive skin before he spoke. “What do you think you’re doing, sneaking into my room at this hour?”

  He wasn’t angry, was he? Oh, she hoped not. “I wanted to see you,” she said hesitantly, silently cursing herself. No need to turn into a ninny.

  “Did you now?” His arms tightened around her, his hands splayed across her stomach. “And why did you want to see me, hmm?”

  “I missed you.” Closing her eyes, she let her forehead thunk against the heavy wood of the door. How could she tell him what she wanted when she herself was so unsure? This was all such a mystery to her. Exhilarating and confusing, she was both frightened and curious.

  And achingly aroused.

  His possessive touch upon her quaking body only enhanced the swirl of emotions unraveling within her. His large, warm hands smoothed over her, settling upon her waist, so he could slowly turn her to face him. “Dressed for bed?”

  Embarrassment washing over her, she kept her eyes tightly closed. “Perhaps.”

  “Ah.” He trailed a finger along first one lapel of her dressing gown, then the other before he teased at the white silk ribbon that hung from her neck. “What is this?”

  She opened her eyes to find him studying her, his gaze resting on the spot where each side of her robe met. “If you would move away from me, I will show you.”

  His lids heavy, his smile lazy, he released his hold on her and stepped back, arms out wide. “By all means, my lady, I await your revelation.”

  Inhaling sharply, she settled her hands upon the tie of her dressing gown, slowly undoing the knot. He watched her, his entire body still, his bare chest gleaming in the firelight. Dark, curling hair covered his naked flesh, narrowing into a trail that led to his navel and beyond, disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers.

  Dare she even think it, she wanted to follow that intriguing trail with her tongue.

  “Go on now,” he urged when he surely realized her hesitation. “Don’t tease me for too long. I only have so much patience.”

  The low, seductive timbre of his voice, the urgency of his statement sent her heart flying. Fumbling with the tie, she finally undid it, parting her robe without a sound.

  It was his turn to suck in air, his eyes going wide at the sight before him.

  She let the dressing gown slip from her shoulders until it settled in a silky puddle on the floor around her feet. Completely nude, she stood before him, her entire body aflame at the heated look in his eyes.

  “I come bearing a gift just for you,” she said, her voice trembling. “I give you myself, Your Grace. Tonight, I belong to you completely.”

  He clenched his hands into fists at his sides, his gaze roving over her, lingering upon her most mysterious places. Straightening her spine, she pushed her shoulders back, holding her head high.

  Never in her life had she put herself on such blatant display. Not in front of her maid, her mother, her sisters . . . no one. Until this man.

  “This . . .” He cleared his throat and approached her once more. “You are the most precious gift I have ever been fortunate enough to receive.”

  He reached out, his fingers curling about the ribbon she’d tied around her neck before she left her room, the gold ring Henry presented to her dangling between her breasts. “What is this? The ring I gave you?”

  She nodded, sucked in a breath when his fingers brushed against her chilled skin. “Y—yes.”

  His lids lifted, his searing sea blue gaze meeting hers. “Why would you tie it upon a ribbon? Why not just wear it on your finger?”

  “I don’t have the right to wear it yet, Your Grace,” she said solemnly, her eyes never wavering from his. “Until I am truly your wife, I think it best I wear it around my neck.”

  “Mmm.” He settled his hands upon her shoulders. “You’re shivering.”

  A gasp escaped her when he drew her to him, their naked flesh pressed together for the first time. She closed her eyes as a myriad of pleasurable sensations swept through her, one after the other, overwhelming her and arousing her all at once. His hands upon her, her breasts pressed to his chest, her nipples, hard and aching, rubbing against his chest hair.

  “And it’s not cold in here,” he continued as he dipped his head, dropping damp little kisses along her bare shoulder. “Do I make you nervous?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, whimpering when he cupped her right breast, his thumb skittering across her distended nipple.

  “I don’t understand why, seeing how bold you are, displaying yourself to me without batting an eyelash. Quite honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it.” The words were murmured against her skin as he continued to blaze a path of heat with his mouth. Along her collarbone, lower, lower still, until he traced his tongue around her nipple, making her squeal softly.

  “Did I disappoint you, Your Grace?” She clutched at his shoulders, bunched the fabric of his dressing gown beneath her palms. She wanted to tear it off and lick at his flesh much like he did hers. Nibble and bite and lick and suck until he was as undone as she.

  “Not in the least.” He moved away from her, grabbing her hand so he could lead her toward the grand bed that awaited them. “With every spectacularly bold move you make, my lady, I come to realize what a splendid wife you will make.”

  Pride suffused her, and she smiled. “Do you mean that? Truly?”

  He hauled her to him, their gazes locking. “I have never been more serious in all my life. You, Lady Eleanor Fitzsimmons, will make the perfect duchess.”

  And with his firm statement, she knew she could never doubt him.

  Chapter Ten

  “I CANNOT BELIEVE you went through with it.” Tristan shook his head morosely. “Shackling yourself with a new bride. Why, you hardly know her.”

  “I feel as if I’ve known her all my life.” Ashton kept his gaze upon the new Duchess of Ashton, pleased with what he saw. She stood on the opposite side of the drawing room, her cheeks rosy, her eyes sparkling with happiness. She wore a dark green gown that brought out the pale creaminess of her skin, her flashing dark eyes and rich brown hair.

  She was a vision, surrounded by her sisters and her mother. His mother stood nearby too, smiling and laughing, demanding everyone celebrate this most wondrous of nights.

  For it was Christmas—and his wedding day.

  “That you would bloody well marry her and on such a sacred day as this,” Tristan scoffed. “It’s rather unseemly.”

  “And now who’s the stuffy old gent, hmm?” Ashton couldn’t be bothered with his brother. Tristan was confused. Perhaps a trifle jealous. After all, Lady Olivia didn’t seem to pay him any mind, not any longer. And the only lady who followed Tristan around adoringly was Lady Penelope. The very last lady he wanted to spend time with.

  “I just think you’ve been rather—rash in your decision. If I’d done something like this, you’d say the same thing,” Tristan explained when he saw Ashton prepare to interrupt.

  Henry clamped his lips shut. His younger brother was right. Bu
t he couldn’t worry about it. Yes, they’d married quickly, much to his mother’s horrified shock and her mother’s delight. He’d hoped for the earl’s consent, but Eleanor had warned him no one knew where her father could be.

  So he went ahead and made the decision to marry her now, before the year ended. He wanted to offer her protection. Guidance.

  Love.

  And by God, he wanted to bed her again and soon. Glancing at his pocket watch, he snapped it shut, glaring at everyone in the room. “When will this thing end anyhow?”

  Tristan chortled. “Ah, who’s anxious to take his wife to bed, hmm?”

  “Don’t embarrass her.” He thrust his finger in Tristan’s face. “She’s had enough to deal with, what with her wastrel of her father. Tonight is her night. Let her revel in it.”

  Tristan looked shocked as he took a step back. “I wouldn’t embarrass her. I like Eleanor. The only one I wish to embarrass is you.”

  Without another word, Ashton left his brother where he stood, ignoring Tristan’s laughter as it trailed after him. He went to Eleanor, unable to stand it any longer. He needed to get her alone. In his bedchamber. In his bed.

  “Ah, there you are.” She beamed, so pretty she stole his very breath. “I was just explaining to Mother that we shall return to London after the Twelfth Day.”

  Ashton inclined his head toward Lady Cochrane. “Indeed, that is correct.”

  “But what of us? When shall we return? And what sort of conditions will you return us to?” His new mother-in-law’s gaze was shrewd, as was her expression. The woman had no problem stating boldly what she wanted.

  Sighing, he slipped his arm around Eleanor’s waist, pulling her in close. God, how dependent he’d become on her for strength. “We shall move you to new quarters soon after I arrive in London. But until then, you’ll have to stay in your house.”

  “And what of the creditors?”

  “They will be taken care of properly.” He’d already started the proper action in doing so. Cochrane’s debts would be paid in full within the sennight, perhaps even sooner.

  Lady Cochrane beamed. “Wonderful. I do say, sir. When you set your mind to something, you complete the task in a rather efficient manner, do you not?”

  They escaped the cloying drawing room minutes later, Ashton taking Eleanor’s hand and leading her toward his bedchamber without hesitation His steps were eager, as were hers, and she couldn’t seem to stop laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked once he had her inside, his hands all over her.

  Yet again.

  “Don’t you find it unbelievable, what has happened between us?” She kissed him, her lips sweet, her tongue hot as it licked inside his mouth. He set her away from him, hardly able to think, let alone conduct conversation with her.

  “Unbelievable how?”

  She slowly undid his cravat, tossing it over her shoulder so it landed on the floor. “Not so very long ago, I described you as my enemy. And now we are married.”

  “Many great marriages started out with husband and wife at odds with each other.”

  “Name five.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lush mouth to the side of his neck.

  “Um . . .” He couldn’t think of one, let alone five, which seemed to please her to no end. “You’re distracting me,” he murmured, slipping his hand into the back of her hair and ruining her coiffure with a few thrusts of his fingers.

  “Is it working?” Her busy little fingers worked on the buttons of his waistcoat, tugged at the hem of his shirt, and pulled it from his trousers. A few secret nights together, and she’d become the wanton.

  And wasn’t he the lucky bastard?

  “It is,” he practically growled, picking her up so he could toss her onto the bed. She landed with a soft thump, her adorably angry expression making him chuckle. Striding toward the bed, he shed his clothes with quick ease, his gaze never leaving hers. She was still completely clothed, her breath coming so fast, he reveled in the rapid rise and fall of her breasts, how they strained against the fabric of her bodice.

  Lord help him, she was the most delicious gift he could’ve ever been given.

  “Are you going to ravish me now?” she asked hopefully.

  “Is that what you wish for, my darling?” He settled his mouth upon hers, kissing her for long, delicious minutes. He’d known passion brimmed just beneath her surface. She was giving, curious, and so eager to please, he couldn’t help but feel the same toward her.

  He undressed her, nearly tearing the sleeve off her gown, shredding her thin, aged shift and not caring in the least. He would buy her a new wardrobe. The very best money could buy. He would outfit her with whatever she wanted and needed because, damn it, a duchess should dress like one, and years-old, hand-me-down rags were not the latest style.

  She chastised him for destroying her clothing but only briefly. Soon he had her rapturous in his arms, his fingers between her legs, searching her wet folds, his lips sucking her pretty pink nipples deep. She writhed beneath him, reaching her conclusion quickly, beautifully.

  Watching her climax in his arms shook him to his very core. He wondered if he would ever get over that.

  He certainly hoped not.

  “I want you inside me,” she murmured as she slipped one hand down his chest before her fingers curled around the length of his cock.

  A strangled groan escaped him. “What happened to my bashful wife?”

  “She’s been made insatiable by her husband.” She stroked him, working him into a near frenzy within seconds, and he pinned her to the mattress, pushing inside her with all the finesse of an untried lad.

  “You very nearly unman me, I’ll have you know,” he murmured as he withdrew almost completely before he thrust in deep.

  She arched beneath him, a wicked smile curving her swollen mouth. “Can’t have that, can we?”

  He lost all control, pounding inside her with unrestrained passion. He wanted to take her, possess her, mark her as his. Sweat slicked their bodies, her nails scratched down his back, and the both of them came with trembling moans and exhausted shouts.

  “I have never been happier,” she murmured many, many minutes later, her head resting on his damp-with-sweat shoulder, her fingers threading through the hair that grew on his chest.

  “Truly, darling?” He kissed her temple. “Even though I took you like some sort of feral beast?”

  “I adore your beastly ways.” She sighed contentedly, wrapping herself around him. “Do you think the ton will accept me?”

  “Haven’t they already? Besides, I really don’t give a damn if they accept you or not. I accept you. My family accepts you. That’s all that matters.”

  Eleanor snuggled in closer, her tousled hair tickling his face, making his nose twitch. “I love how indignant you become for me. I’ve never had a champion before.”

  “A champion?” He frowned, an odd, achy feeling growing in his chest.

  She nodded, strands of her hair sticking to the stubble that grew along his jaw. “I’ve always felt rather alone. And now that I have you . . .”

  He released a shuddering sigh, dropped a kiss on her forehead. God’s truth, he knew what that odd, achy feeling was. It was his heart, swelling with love for her. And he loved this woman.

  More than anything or anyone in the world.

  “Now that you have me, you will never be alone, Eleanor. Of that, I can assure you.” Slipping his fingers beneath her chin, he tilted her face up, preparing her for his kiss. “I love you.”

  Her eyes grew wide and shiny with unshed tears. “You do?” She sniffed.

  Nodding, he leaned down, kissing her thoroughly before he spoke once more. “I do.”

  “And I love you,” she whispered, her expression shy. “So very much.”

  “We are in agreement then.”

  She nodded, her lips soft and swollen, her eyes glowing with love and affection. “You have made me the happiest woman on this earth.”

  “And
you, my darling, have made me the happiest man.” He slipped his hand beneath the covers and grabbed hers, entwining their fingers before he brought their linked hands out into the open air. Tracing his thumb along the thin gold band that Eleanor wore about her finger, it was a symbol of his love and fidelity, a representation of all the Duchesses of Ashton, past and present. “I love that you wear my ring. That you show everyone you belong to me.”

  “I do belong to you, Henry. I am yours in every way possible.” She offered him a shaky smile.

  “And I belong to you as well, Eleanor. More than you shall ever know.” He smiled in return, reached out, and cupped her cheek to draw her to him.

  And sealed his simple vow with a lingering kiss.

  About Karen Erickson

  Romance author KAREN ERICKSON writes what she loves to read—sexy contemporary romance and sensual historical romance. She’s published over thirty novellas and novels since 2006. A native Californian, she lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband and three children. You can find her on the Web at: www.karenerickson.com, twitter.com/@karenerickson and facebook.com/karenericksonwritesromance.

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  War of the Magi

  RENA GREGORY

  Chapter One

  Preston, South Dakota

  1908

  HE STOOD OUTSIDE her father’s general-goods shop, not even ten feet away from her, separated by an inch of glass. Ginny squinted. Smudged, spotted glass.

  She hurried to the window with a clean rag and peered over to see her father at the counter, haggling with Mrs. Clancy about the price of the bolts of fabric she wanted to purchase. If there was one thing John Overton despised, it was untidiness in all its forms. Ginny didn’t mind the chore since it gave her an excuse to get closer to the object of her affection. She stared out again, her hand automatically making circles on the glass so that her father would know she was, in fact, working.