To Desire a Wicked Duke

by Nicole Jordan

  “Good heavens, no. I don’t want him sent away. As you said, he is an innocent child. And he needs a mother as well as a father.”

  “Lady Wingate thinks I coddle Jamie too much, but I want him to grow up knowing he is loved.”

  “He will be. By us both.”

  Ian briefly kissed her temple, then drew back. “You are amazing, did you know?”

  His eyes were so vivid with warmth, it made her own eyes smart. “I am amazed you think so. I thought you despised me for being a starry-eyed idealist.”

  “Never. I love your passion, Tess. Your fierce devotion to your causes is part of who you are.” His mouth curved. “The truth is, I had recently resolved to try my hand at courting you, since according to your godmother, you were finally coming out of mourning for Richard. And then I walked in on you kissing Hennessy. Speaking of savage jealousy … he was fortunate I didn’t pummel him to a pulp.”

  “He only kissed me on impulse, Ian. And I only responded because I wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed by a man other than Richard. If it will make you feel any better, I did not enjoy kissing Hennessy one whit. I was impatient for him to be done with it.”

  Ian planted his own tender kiss on her lips. “At least your wanton experiment spurred me to act. I couldn’t let you get away twice. I was actually glad when Lady Wingate insisted we had to marry.”

  “I never knew,” Tess said softly.

  “I didn’t want you to know. For my own self-protection, I needed to keep up the barriers between us. I cultivated your animosity on purpose for years.”

  “Is that why you didn’t want me to know about your generosity?”

  “Yes. Because you would have looked at me more kindly. I wanted you to think me your adversary so I could better resist you.”

  Tess couldn’t help but laugh. “You succeeded admirably, Ian. It always infuriated me, how you always got under my skin so easily.”

  “You got under my skin as well. You were in my head, my loins, my heart.…” Ian chuckled softly at himself. “I didn’t want to love you, but my plan failed miserably. The more I fought you, the more I wanted you.”

  “It was the same with me,” Tess acknowledged.

  He exhaled in relief. “I wish I’d had an inkling of your feelings before this. You could have saved me a good deal of agony this afternoon. I was desperate enough to visit your friends, to seek their advice on how to win you.”

  “Which friends?”

  “Fanny Irwin and the Loring sisters.”

  “Seriously? You asked their advice? What did they say?”

  “That I should confess my love to you, first and foremost.”

  “They were right, you know,” Tess agreed sweetly. “I suppose I can contrive to forgive you for keeping the truth from me, Ian. But please, no more secrets between us?”

  “That goes for you as well, love.”

  Tess arched an eyebrow. “What secrets did I keep from you?”

  “You concealed the fact that you loved me. That is an outrageous omission.”

  “I was not even aware myself, so how could I tell you?”

  He pressed another tender kiss on her lips. “You have no more excuses. From now on, I want to hear regularly how much you love me.”

  “That will be no hardship, my love.”

  He started to kiss her again, but stopped. “Oh, and another thing. No more ‘your graces’ when you address me. It perturbs me to no end.”

  “Why do you think I do it?”

  Ian kissed the teasing smile off her lips and made her sigh in surrender.

  When he allowed Tess to breathe again, however, she fixed her gaze on him. “I meant what I said, Ian. I want a true marriage with you, despite how disastrously we began. I don’t want a bloodless union where the only intimacy is based on physical passion.”

  “Nor do I.”

  Determined to drive her point home, she curled her fingers around the lapels of his jacket. “I want to be your wife in every way possible. I want a mate, Ian, not just a lover. I want a husband and friend and confidant.”

  “I think I can safely promise you that.”

  His perceptive gray gaze cut straight to her heart, his expression so brutally honest, she couldn’t mistake his feelings of love for her.

  Yet she needed to make him understand her own feelings, Tess realized. “You said I should move on with my life, Ian, and I am ready to do so, totally and completely. I don’t want to waste any more time. If I have learned anything these past two years, it is that happiness and love are too precious to let slip away.”

  She paused. “And I don’t want Richard to come between us ever again,” Tess added in a softer tone, remembering their last night at Falwell. When she’d brought up Richard’s name while making love to Ian, he’d responded angrily, almost bitterly.

  She tightened her hold on his neck, wanting to offer reassurance. “I swear to you, Ian, there is no reason whatsoever for you to be jealous now.”

  He nodded solemnly. “I intend to hold you to that promise. I don’t want Richard in our marriage bed.”

  “I should hope not,” Tess said lightly, believing they could now lay their ghosts to rest.

  In response, Ian brushed the crown of her head lightly with his cheek, then pulled her to his chest and held her, his strength palpable, surrounding her, protecting her.

  She remained there for a score of heartbeats, with her head resting on his shoulder, savoring the tender moment. Soon, however, she could feel heat rising between them.

  “Ian?” Tess murmured against the side of his neck.

  “Yes, love?”

  “At Falwell, we agreed to share a bed merely to reduce our sexual frustrations, but I want to sleep with you every night from now on.”

  “You read my mind, Tess.”

  “Do you think we could begin right away?”

  “I expect so. I seem to recall never giving you a proper wedding night. I promise to make up for my lapse tonight.”

  “Must we wait until tonight?”

  Raising his head, Ian gave her a wicked, heart-stopping smile, then stood with Tess in his arms. “I thought you would never ask.”

  He carried her upstairs to his bedchamber and stoked the hearth fire to ward off the chill of the November evening. Then they undressed each other in between tender kisses and languorous caresses and soft laughter.

  Their marriage was no longer a battle, no longer a rivalry, Ian reflected gladly. Instead, for the first time, they would be sealing their union as true husband and wife, showing their love for each other. The prospect filled him with heat and pleasure.

  He held Tess’s gaze, savoring the perfect beauty of her smile, the giving warmth. Her generosity of spirit was what had drawn him to her from the first, but she awed him in so many ways.

  He would never get enough of her, Ian knew. Yet physical desire was only part of his attraction. There was something deeply satisfying about just sharing her company. Even simple things somehow seemed new again to him. Every moment with Tess was like discovering something he’d never known was missing.

  When he had bared her lovely body, he kissed her nape as he let down her hair, luxuriating in the sable tresses that fell in lustrous waves down her back. Then he attended to the delectable skin of her shoulder, which naturally led his lips down her arm to the ripe swell of her breast.

  As he laved the budded nipple with his tongue, Tess sighed and wound her fingers in his hair.

  “I always thought you the most vexing man alive,” she admitted in a breathless murmur, “but now I am inclined to think you the most wonderful man alive.”

  “I am not quite the arrogant devil I once was,” Ian agreed, lifting his head. “In fact, I’ve been humbled by love.”

  “You, humbled? I’ll never believe it.”

  Her smile tantalized him as always, but the loving laughter in her eyes was new. He relished that look, relished the hint of challenge in her tone. He suspected she would have continued
provoking him, but he kissed her again, seducing her mouth into silence with his ardor.

  Tess reciprocated, her lips melding with his, her hands touching him in a way that made him breathless with need.

  When the heat grew nearly unbearable, Ian led her to the bed and drew her down. For a time they held each other … embracing, kissing, caressing, cherishing, leaving arousal everywhere they touched.

  He ached to be inside her and yet he wanted to go slowly, to make this moment last. They fondled and stroked until they were both flushed and aroused to the point of trembling.

  Only then did Ian shift to cover Tess’s lithe, lush body. Easing between her thighs, he braced his weight on his forearms so that he could gaze down at her, wanting to watch her eyes as she went wild beneath him.

  She was already awash with wanton desire, he could tell from her quivering response. And she was incredibly hot and wet for him, Ian discovered as he tenderly thrust inside her.

  Yet it was the way Tess watched him that took his breath away. Golden firelight bathed her face and turned her dark eyes brilliant, the expression on her face one of joy.

  The sight made his chest hurt with love.

  “I’ve waited forever to love you like this,” he said reverently.

  Her features etched with passion, Tess clasped her legs around him and arched her back, drawing him in further.

  “So have I,” she admitted, her fever-bright eyes shining into his.

  Caught in the magic of her dark gaze, he began to move, feeling Tess surround him, feeling Tess love him. Stark hunger and tenderness poured from him as they rocked together in ancient rhythms, intensifying the fire between them, the raw wanting.

  When Tess softly moaned his name, Ian sank even deeper, claiming her as his own, filling her until she was gasping, until she was pleading, until they were both shaking with desire.

  “My wife, my love …”

  “My husband …”

  Tess gave herself to him, body and heart and soul. Her moans turned to sobs that were echoed by his deep, guttural groans. Their bodies twisted feverishly together, writhing, clenching, until at last the powerful explosions left them gasping and replete.

  As the pulsing ecstasy receded, Ian slowly withdrew and turned onto his back, pulling Tess with him, holding her possessively. It still stunned him, how powerfully she affected him. No woman had ever shattered his sense of reality the way Tess did. She consumed him, enchanted him.

  Too sated to move, he lay with her, their limbs tangled together, their heartbeats slowing. After a while, Ian brushed his lips against her temple and peered down at her. The fire glowed, gilding her lovely face. Her eyes were closed now, but the blissful contentment on her beautiful features spoke volumes.

  Ian felt the same contentment, along with a fierce, primal satisfaction, knowing that Tess’s passion was something he alone could summon.

  When he traced his fingertips along the rise of her cheek, she stirred enough to open her eyes.

  “Fanny was right,” she said dreamily. “Lovemaking is even more wonderful when you are in love.”

  Ian smiled. “I couldn’t agree more … although it still startles me to hear you spout romantic wisdom from a notorious Cyprian.”

  Tilting her head back to see him better, Tess smiled up at him. “I’ll wager Fanny will become much less notorious in the near future. She has abandoned her wicked ways in order to settle down in staid matrimony, just as you have.”

  Ian’s humor deepened. “I fervently hope there will be nothing staid about our marriage, Tess.”

  “You have a point,” she conceded. She paused. “I don’t believe I thanked you yet, Ian. I am so grateful that you made it possible for Fanny to marry for love.”

  “I confess my motives were completely selfish. I only wanted to make you happy.”

  Reaching up, she twined her arms around his neck. “You have made me happy, darling. Deliriously so. You filled the emptiness in my heart.”

  Her simple declaration humbled him.

  “I could say the same about you, my lovely Tess. I never realized how empty my life was until I met you.”

  She smiled radiantly, the same precious smile that had captured him the first time they’d met—only this time her joy was solely for him.

  In response, Ian pressed a reverent kiss on her mouth. His heart was full of emotion for her: lust and love, caring, protectiveness. His fierce desire for her was only eclipsed by his even greater desire to protect and cherish her.

  Suspecting that Tess still needed proof of his love, however, Ian wrapped his arms around her and deepened their kiss, determined to show his adoration with deeds and not mere words.

  He succeeded admirably, if her blissful cries a short while later were any indication.

  My friends have all been remarkably lucky in love, but I am the most fortunate of all, having my not-so-wicked duke for my husband.

  —Diary Entry of Tess Sutherland,

  Duchess of Rotham

  Pride and delight surged through Tess as she watched Fanny and Basil being united in holy matrimony. The bride looked amazingly beautiful, her long-sleeved gown of forest green lustring boasting a high-necked bodice embroidered with gold threads. The groom, though almost handsome in a long, lanky sort of way, seemed a trifle awestruck at his good fortune. Yet the love in his eyes was unmistakable, as was Fanny’s love for him.

  The couple’s friends had gathered in Bellacourt’s small, elegant chapel behind the manor for a private ceremony, since society was not yet ready to publicly embrace the nuptials of a former lady of pleasure.

  This was the last in a rash of unexpected weddings from among Tess’s close circle. Indeed, Fanny’s unlikely romance was the culmination of a remarkable year of love matches, which had begun in May when Marcus, Baron Pierce, inherited the Danvers earldom along with his unwilling guardianship of the Loring sisters. Now Marcus and Arabella were expecting the birth of their first child in the spring.

  The thought warmed Tess’s heart. So did the nearness of her own handsome husband sitting in the pew beside her.

  She had actually seen little of Ian since breakfast, having spent the morning at Danvers Hall helping the bride dress and primp with the rest of Fanny’s dearest female friends. Tess had then accompanied the ladies to Bellacourt, where, following the quiet chapel service, she and Ian planned to host a large wedding breakfast and ball to celebrate their own recent marriage.

  The guests present in the chapel were an interesting mix of commoners and gentility, Tess noted. Several of Basil’s bachelor friends from his law clerk days had come to support him. And not surprisingly, Fanny’s beloved Cyprian friends, Fleur Delee and Chantel Amour, had been invited and appeared to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

  It was highly unusual, however, to see so many high-ranking members of the ton at a courtesan’s wedding. In addition to Arabella, Roslyn, Lily, and their three noble husbands, Tess’s cousin Damon, Viscount Wrexham, was there with his vivacious wife Eleanor, who happened to be Marcus’s younger sister. Also in attendance were Arabella’s nearest neighbor, Rayne Kenyon, the Earl of Haviland and his charming new wife, Madeline, whom the sisters had taken under their wing this past autumn.

  Yet it was only fitting, Tess reflected, for them to honor Fanny this way, since she had aided them all in their courtship wars at one point or another.

  Winifred, Lady Freemantle, was in attendance also, seated at Tess’s other side. The plump, plain, middle-aged widow had been born into the lower classes, but her industrialist father’s fortune had purchased her marriage to a baronet. Winifred was the original patron of the Freemantle Academy for Young Ladies, funding the school entirely before Marcus bought it outright for Arabella as his wedding gift to her this past summer.

  Tess’s godmother was not at the chapel, although she meant to attend the festivities afterward, once the notorious lightskirt and her groom had left the premises and set out on their wedding journey to Hampshire. Lady Wingate had her
reputation to uphold, after all.

  Lady Freemantle was not so fastidious. After warning that she always cried at weddings, Winifred sat sniffing happily throughout the ceremony. When the vows had finally all been spoken, she heaved a dreamy sigh while clutching her hand to her generous bosom. “That was simply beautiful. Weddings are such a joyous occasion, especially this one.”

  Tess nodded in agreement, wiping away her own tears of happiness with the handkerchief Ian had loaned her. She couldn’t help comparing Fanny’s wedding to her own hasty, forced marriage, however.

  Ian must have been having similar thoughts, for he bent to murmur in her ear. “Do you regret not having a church wedding?”

  Tess smiled up at him. “Not at all. How our vows came about hardly matters as long as I have you for my husband.”

  It was clearly the answer he hoped for, judging from the tender sheen in his gray eyes—a tenderness that warmed her from the inside out. By the time the wedding guests spilled out of the chapel into the chill gray day, the first snowflakes of the season had begun falling, yet Tess felt as if she was coming out of a dark winter.

  She was filled with gratitude that she had found Ian. Knowing full well that happiness could be snatched away in the blink of an eye, she intended to make the most of the present moment and their time on earth together.

  Life was all about being alive, and with Ian, she was constantly, gloriously alive. He had taught her to feel joy again, single-handedly banishing the hollow, empty feeling inside her. Even before their union, their battles had given her a focus other than grief. And the continued sparks between them only added spice to their spirited marriage. Yet their disputes never held anger; there was too much love.

  Gazing up at Ian as they waited for the bridal couple to appear after signing their marriage documents, Tess felt cherished and protected and desired. What more could a woman ask for?