The Arrangement

by Sylvia Day

  It was the first night since they’d been married that Brook didn’t share a bed with his wife. Restless and preoccupied, he kissed her good night after the ball and led her to her private suite of rooms, rather than his own. She had accepted his kiss, but it was different. She was different.

  But his mind was still reeling—the whole situation was too much to process—so he pushed back the observation and went to his study and poured another snifter of brandy, sure that the snifter would be one of many.

  He made a plan, set aside a list of what to do in the morning, and when he couldn’t think of any other necessary courses of action, he called his carriage to take him to White’s.

  The gentlemen’s club was full this evening, and it was upon his arrival that he realized his fatal error.

  In that moment, he confirmed the suspicions of everyone, and never before had he so deeply regretted living up to his name and reputation.

  “I told Walker that you’d be in here later. Bored already, Barrington?” Lord Whistler gave a mighty slap on Brook’s back as he passed him.

  “I told you his interest would last a week,” someone added.

  “It’s been five days: I won the bet!” Another slapped the table, causing the glasses to tinkle.

  Brook gave his head a shake. “No, you misunderstand.”

  “Sure we do.” Lord Whistler winked.

  “I wouldn’t mind her warming my bed,” another gentleman mumbled as Brook passed, causing him to pause.

  “Pardon?” He turned to the gentleman, acid in his tone.

  “He don’t mean anything by it.” His friend slapped his back.

  “I doubt that,” Brook replied icily.

  “Ah, did I say he’d be here soon?” Lord Walker’s voice penetrated the dull roar of the room.

  Brook froze, then turned to the sound of the voice. Lord Walker and Sir Harrington were both lifting glasses in his honor.

  “I don’t see what you could possibly celebrate,” Brook gave as a response to their clinking of glasses.

  “Just the beginning of the end,” Lord Walker replied.

  “What do you mean by that?” Brook asked, taking a seat beside them.

  “Just that you already are tired of the chit, the one you defended so valiantly earlier.” Lord Walker raised his eyebrows. “An heir and family my ass.”

  “I did a little research on your wife, Lord Barrington.” Sir Harrington nodded over his glass, then took a long sip. “Her father died, leaving the family of five daughters in financial straits. It was luck for both of you that she needed your money, and apparently the Devil’s Bachelor was desperate enough for Lord Walker’s property that you married the chit. How does it feel? Hmm? Knowing that you rushed into a marriage, probably paying off the family handsomely, only to have all you wanted to gain slipping through your fingers?” Sir Harrington arched his brows, then grinned when Brook didn’t respond.

  What could Brook say? Sir Harrington was correct . . . yet not. As much as Brook despised the man, he had a good question. How did he feel about it? Frustrated? Certainly. Regretful? No, not at all. The realization was sobering, and brought his current situation into sharper focus. Would he have changed the past and not married Diana? No. What had started as a marriage of convenience was now so much more. He’d gained a friend, a lover, and one day a mother for their children. Diana pushed him, was honest, and wasn’t willing to let him be comfortable with his given identity but made him think of himself as more.

  “You’re missing one detail.” Brook leaned forward, waiting till he had both gentlemen’s attention. “Your observations are quite astute, but anyone could have uncovered those details. In fact, if you would have asked me, I could have told you. But as frustrating as this situation is, I don’t regret any aspect of it. Nothing. My wife is far more of a valuable asset than your estate, and if I had to choose one, I’d choose her. But, since I do not”—he rose and leaned over the table—“I’ll be meeting with my solicitor in the morning. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from me . . . from us.” Brook straightened up, and watched as Lord Walker sputtered.

  “And I warned you to never insult my wife again, and you crossed that line.” He straightened his jacket.

  “You can’t mean pistols at dawn,” Sir Harrington replied with hesitant horror.

  “No. Simply a promise,” Brook replied in a calm tone. “That the moment you pass from this life, I will not hesitate to purchase every business venture, every estate not entailed, every scrap of property, and put my name on it, the name of my family, so that within a decade of your death, no one will remember you.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “It will be as if you never were, and you, who were so proud of your estate, your family name, everything you built, will be mine.”

  Lord Walker turned an ashen shade of grey.

  Sir Harrington’s gaze shifted from Brook to Lord Walker and back.

  “That will be all.” Brook straightened his jacket, and took his leave of White’s, listening to the whispers as the threat circulated the room. As he was riding back home in his carriage, he wondered just how many bets were placed on Brook making good on his threat. He didn’t mind much, as it turned out his perspective had an elemental shift.

  One person’s opinion mattered.

  And that was the one person who was the most unaware of her power.

  That would change; he’d make sure of it. It was a step of faith, but if there was ever someone who deserved his trust, it was Diana.

  As the carriage rolled to a stop in front of his house, fear gave way to a slight edge of irritation at fate’s ironic joke. He should have known that this marriage of convenience was going to be bloody inconvenient. But it seems that love . . . if this was love . . . made his normally astute senses all jumbled.

  It was late, but the need to speak with Diana was strong. The compulsion to explore this new understanding was overwhelming. He entered the house quietly, and after he started up the stairs he halted and then changed direction to instead visit the library.

  Rational thought reminded him that waking her wouldn’t lead to a coherent conversation. As he approached the library, he noted a soft glow coming from the doorway. Quickening his pace, he paused at the door and noted the soft form of his wife, reclined on a sofa and reading the second book in the series she’d started the first night they were married. His heart pounded furiously at the sight of her. A thousand new emotions flowed through him, all stronger because of their newness. This had to be love, this breathless need for her, only her. He took a step inside, whispering her name. “Diana.”

  Jumping at the sound of her name, she almost dropped the book. “Brook.” She sat up straight, regarding him. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear; it was a nervous movement and Brook halted his progress.

  “I thought you were . . . out.” She cleared her throat, her gaze on her lap.

  He took a step toward her. “I was.”

  “I see.” She swallowed. “Where?” She glanced up at him then.

  Her green eyes were unreadable in the candlelight, but he felt the weight of the question. “White’s.”

  She nodded. When she didn’t continue, he walked toward the sofa. Upon reaching it, he lifted her legs from their perch on the sofa and then laid them across his lap as he sat beside her. Gently, he traced up her legs with soft traces of his fingertips. Her breathing came in a soft gasp.

  “Turns out, I didn’t like spending the night away from you.” He spoke the words with a reverence, with a hope that they wouldn’t be rejected.

  When she didn’t reply, he tickled gently behind her knee and met her gaze. She jerked slightly at his touch and then a smile broke through. “You did, hmm?” She tipped her head to the side, studying him.

  “It comes as a surprise to you?” he asked, continuing to trace up her calf, then down to her ankle.

  “I—that is, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel after the disappointing meeting with Lord Walker,” she answered, and then lo
wered her gaze, her fingers toying with the pages of the book.

  “It turns out that while I care about the business with Lord Walker quite a bit . . . I care about you . . . more,” he whispered, meeting her gaze.

  “That’s . . . unexpected,” she replied softly.

  At this, he chuckled. “Yes, most certainly unexpected.”

  “But not a bad surprise,” she told him, “at least . . . not for me.”

  “Are you wondering how I feel about an attachment?” he asked, one hand reaching over to tip her chin up so that her lowered gaze would meet his.

  “The question had crossed my mind,” she answered.

  “I think I’m quite lucky, actually.” He gave a charming smile as he traced his thumb over her full lower lip, his lips hungry for a taste of it. But he restrained himself. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I don’t know how . . . but I just know that it is. And I’m . . . glad.” His brow furrowed with the truth of his statement.

  “I was so afraid,” she murmured, leaning into his hand cupping her jaw. “I thought you would regret me; I thought you already did. It nearly broke my heart.”

  “There’s no regret.” Brook couldn’t resist kissing her any longer, so he leaned in, savoring the delightful sensation of her soft lips. “Diana.” He spoke her name like a thankful prayer.

  “No regrets, truly?” Diana asked, her green eyes gazing intently at his.

  “Only that I waited this long to find you.”

  She gave a soft laugh. “Truly, I would expect the Devil’s Bachelor to have better answers than something like that.”

  “Ah, but I’m the Devil’s Bachelor no more.” He kissed her deeply, searchingly, then nipped at her lower lip playfully. “But just because I’m not a bachelor doesn’t mean I’ve given up my wicked ways.”

  “Is that so?” Diana asked. “I must say I’m not sorry.”

  “Hmmm.” Brook nibbled the crease between where her lips met, tracing his hand up her calf and dipping under her dressing gown. Her skin prickled with goose bumps under his fingertips as he traced higher and higher till she gasped against his lips. “I suppose my wicked ways have advantages.”

  “For me. Only for me.” She leaned back, her expression fierce, beautiful, and possessive.

  It was a powerful emotion, to belong to another person, Brook decided. His body caught fire with the passion it ignited. “Only you. Only ever you,” he whispered, then allowed his fingertips to trace her most sensitive spot.

  She clenched against him, her breathing coming in short gasps. “But only ever me, all this . . . only mine.” He leaned down and traced his nose against her breast, her aroused tips peeking through her soft robe. “Mine.”

  “Yours,” Diana murmured, her back arching.

  Brook found her lips then, kissing her, his hands roaming her body, mapping it with a new appreciation. Want and need burned in him. He gave her one searing kiss, then tore himself from her embrace. Her green eyes were drunk with passion, and it was only the knowledge that he’d soon answer her silent demands for more that allowed him to make the quick trek to the library door to close and lock it.

  No distractions, no interruptions. Just love, in every sense of the word.

  CHAPTER 16

  Diana watched Brook approach from the door. With each slow step he tugged at a new piece of clothing. It wasn’t long before his body glowed with the flickering candlelight, gloriously naked, yet it was his gaze that melted her from the inside out.

  It was a new expression, one that brought to mind a thousand words, but none of them accurate enough to describe how it made her feel: beautiful, loved, special, wanted, needed, like she belonged. His soft touch gently moved the robe from one shoulder as he knelt on the couch beside her. His lips followed his hands, caressing the exposed flesh with a slow methodical kiss.

  Her eyes closed, the sensations of his love washing over her. Though they had made love every night since their marriage, this was already different. Maybe it was the knowledge that it meant something more than a means to an end. Maybe it was because his attachment to her was known; maybe it was because she wasn’t afraid to tell him of her own feelings. Whatever it was, her body ignited with a stronger burn, deeper, greedy for his touch, knowing it was for her, only her.

  Brook’s fingers traced feather-like caresses down her arms, removing her dressing gown. His lips followed the slow, sensual undressing as he pressed kiss after kiss to her feverish skin. As her robe slid from his hands, he didn’t stop but lowered himself, kissing her belly still covered by her night rail. The sensation moved her, and her eyes closed against the love he poured over her with each kiss, each touch. His wicked, delicious hands traced lower, teasing the hem of her night rail with his fingers and a scandalous grin.

  “I must say, unwrapping you is far more fun than any present at Christmastime,” he teased, his hands sliding her robe up over her knees, higher till it pooled at her waist.

  Diana leaned forward, pulling Brook’s face forward. His hands paused and she met his lips with a searing kiss, tasting his flavor, caressing his tongue with her own, needing to feel all of him, so much more than his kiss. Needy, she broke the seal of their kiss and removed the last of her night rail. With a smile, she pulled at his shoulders, caressing up to his neck as he followed her command and covered her with his body. Arching into him, she met his lips, losing herself in the millions of sensations of his kiss, his body melting into hers, the feel of their rhythm as he entered her. Her hips arched, her heart pounded, and the world shrunk to just them. His heartbeat pounding against hers, his body becoming one with hers, it was almost too much, yet not enough.

  “Do you like this?” Brook adjusted his position, going deeper than before. Her body clenched around him as she barely gasped a, “Yes.”

  “I love the way your body responds. You’re my personal fantasy, Diana,” he murmured against her neck, nipping the flesh.

  Diana could hardly breathe for the pleasure of it, her body singing with desire as she found her release, stealing her breath. Her back arched, pressing Brook deeper inside as her body pulsed. Brook groaned against her neck, his breathing hard as his body grew rigid with his own climax. Her sensitive skin prickled with the throb of his release, nearly sending her into another round of pleasure.

  When she finally found her breath, she met the gaze of her husband, watching her with rapt attention. His gaze conveyed a thousand words as he mapped her face with a tender devotion. Never before had she felt as treasured, as safe or . . . loved.

  “I think I love you, Diana.” Brook whispered the words, testing them with his tone as he studied her reaction.

  Diana reached up, her hand lacing through his dark hair and tugging softly. “Well, since you seem unsure, I think we only have one course of action,” she replied, leaning up to kiss his lips, soft from her earlier attentions.

  “I didn’t mean—” Brook started, but Diana gave her head a slight shake as she grinned. “I know. But I do think, you know, to make sure, we need to just keeping working at this . . . forever.”

  At her words, Brook returned her grin. “You always do have the best ideas.”

  “I’ll be sure to remind you of that, often.”

  “Of that I have no doubt,” Brook teased, then dropped a sweet kiss on her nose. “And I don’t mind. I’m sure it won’t be the last brilliant idea you’ll have.”

  “A husband who admits when his wife is right? How did I get so lucky?” Diana asked with a laugh.

  “You didn’t get lucky; I did. After all, I married you.”

  “That you did,” Diana whispered. “A marriage of convenience.” She gave a small laugh as she rolled her eyes. “That ended up being so much more.”

  “More than I expected, and certainly far more than I deserve. And I’ll just have to spend my life accepting that.”

  “A hard fate, no doubt,” Diana replied with a slight eye roll.

  “I’m sure I’ll manage.” Brook’s lips took on a wic
ked grin as his eyes wolfishly traced lower to her exposed breasts. “There are perks to my penance.”

  “Penance.” Diana repeated the word dryly.

  “I’ve been very wicked, you know,” Brook reminded her, leaning down to lick her nipple.

  Diana tried to think of a proper response but found she couldn’t think past the pleasure, the ecstasy of his touch, of his words as they washed over her.

  “No response?” Brook asked as he halted his teasing attentions.

  Diana made the only reasonable reply. With a grin, she leaned up, captured his lips, and started to love him all over again.

  Because their forever started now.

  EPILOGUE

  Brook watched as his wife chased their younger son around the park beside her childhood home. Surrounded by her sisters and mother, Diana was always aglow with delight. Of course, the glow could also be due to the fact that their third child was due in a few months. For her confinement, she and Brook would adjourn to the countryside in Sussex so that she and their young ones could be with family. It also gave Brook a chance to catch up on his own estate business.

  And over the past four years, they’d spent a good amount of time in the country, since Diana was everything her name implied: fertile. Of course, Brook didn’t exactly slack in that department either, so it was only natural. As he watched his wife smile and tickle their son, Brook wondered if he could have ever imagined such happiness as he felt in those precious moments. From the Devil’s Bachelor to the patriarch of quite the proper English family, it was an unexpected change but one for which he was eternally thankful.

  Lord Walker had suffered an apoplexy a few months after their disagreement, and all the litigation that had tied up the Caribbean estate was dismissed. Brook had taken ownership of the property, and then proceeded to purchase pieces of Walker’s estate, making good on his promise not so long ago. But rather than feeling resentment, Brook found it was a delightful thing to have such a large heritage for his own children to inherit.

  Things had changed over the past four years, but one thing hadn’t: his love for his wife.