The Bad Luck Bride

by Janna MacGregor

  Claire took his hand and kissed his palm. “Alex.”

  Tonight, her simple touch and gentle words left a permanent imprint on his memory. He would never forget the sound of her voice, the whisper of his lover. He leaned in and found her lips. Holding her in his arms, he moved his mouth to devour hers and everything she’d give him. He’d even devour her soul if she’d allow it.

  The muscles of her stomach tightened when he slid his hands under her shirt. He touched and kneaded her breasts, breaking their kiss only when he raised the shirt over her head. In response, she moaned his name and arched against him.

  His body hummed as blood raced through his veins. Eager to comply, he gathered her in his arms and moved to a position where he could lay her on the bed. He angled his body over hers, skin to skin. Possessively, he took one of her nipples in his mouth, laving it, sucking it, over and over until she whimpered. His finger outlined the other nipple, committing it to memory. The softness of her breasts compared with the hardness of her nipples fascinated him. With every touch, Claire’s breath quickened. Her moans drove him to give her more—coax more from her.

  “Please…” Claire moved her lower body against his.

  His erection throbbed for its own attention. “Touch me, Claire.” Alex found her hand on his shoulder and moved it across his chest. Her touch set his body on fire as if he had stepped in an inferno, and he groaned.

  “Yes, that’s it. Claire, hold me. We have all night together.”

  With short pants, she explored his stomach and hips. Alex’s attention went to her thighs, where he moved her legs apart and touched her center. He parted her soft folds and discovered her wet heat. He struggled against the animal instinct to take her at that moment.

  Claire pushed against his hand, whimpering. She wanted him.

  Alex slipped two fingers into her slick center. She bucked into his hand, begging for relief.

  With steady, controlled thrusts, Alex took his thumb and rubbed the taut bud of her sex. He caressed and fondled, each stroke of his fingers designed to take her closer and closer to her release. He brought his lips to Claire’s ear, whispering, “So lovely.”

  Claire trembled and her sex began to contract. A long moan of ecstasy escaped from deep within her.

  “Yes, that’s it. I’ve got you,” Alex soothed and coaxed as he sensed she was near a complete surrender.

  Claire writhed against him as if she couldn’t withstand the pleasure. Suddenly, she pulled him tight against her as her body clenched. Her cry escaped, and Alex moved his mouth to hers in a kiss, hungry to possess her.

  As her shudders of release began to wane, Alex could wait no longer. “Sweetheart, I’ve got to be inside you. I need you now.”

  Claire guided his cock to her center. Alex gathered her to him in an embrace and brought her leg to rest against his hip. He entered her slowly, inch by inch. Her hot pulsating core clasped his cock, drawing him deeper and deeper until his hips pressed against hers. It was divine, better than heaven. The feel of her soft skin and silken hair was exquisite. Nothing in his life had prepared him for this moment.

  At her sharp intake of breath and immediate stillness, Alex forced himself not to move, though the pain of restraint proved excruciating. “Claire?” It was agony to stay still, but he needed her reassurance before he continued.

  Her body relaxed slightly, and her fingertips smoothed his cheek. “I need a minute. I’m unaccustomed to this.”

  Breathing hard, Alex rested his forehead on the pillow next to hers. If he was stuck in this position for the rest of his life, it would be the sweetest torture to endure. He waited another moment. “Darling?” He found her lips. Her kiss, sweet and demanding, matched the desire he felt in his body.

  “Don’t stop.” She exhaled and both her legs encircled his hips.

  Thrusting again and again, Alex felt his own bliss cresting, the blind rush of desire coursing through his body as they settled into a rhythm. Her heat pulled him in and her muscles tightened as if she’d never let him go. Claire lifted her hips to meet each thrust. With a final surge, he threw back his head and came long and hard for what seemed like forever. Pleasure overtook every nerve ending in his body.

  When his body returned to his control, he rested his head next to Claire’s. Both of them were breathing raggedly as they tried to calm the storm they’d created. Alex caught her mouth in a primal possession, not letting up until he felt her respond. Slowly, breaking the kiss, he lifted his head and gave a solemn vow. “You’re mine.”

  Stillness permeated the chamber. With his hands braced on either side of Claire’s shoulders, he leaned down and softly kissed her twice. Then, after parting the curtains, he left the bed and dampened a cloth in the water on the vanity. He brought it back to the bed and gently patted her face. She shied away from him.

  “Sweetheart.”

  Claire reluctantly turned toward him. Alex caressed her face with his hands before washing the rest of her. After he discarded the cloth, he climbed into bed. Gently, he gathered her in his arms with her back resting against his chest and brought the coverlet over them.

  He rubbed his chin over her head and repeated in a soft cadence, “Sleep. I’ll watch the night for you.”

  Claire answered in a soft whisper, “You’re mine, too.”

  It took only a few moments before her soft, even breathing signaled her surrender to sleep.

  Alex couldn’t join Claire in her sweet slumber. He didn’t want to analyze what had occurred or how it had changed their relationship, but he still harbored questions that only Claire could answer.

  He was unaccustomed to having a woman in his bed. Always before, he had gone to their bed and left when he desired. Tonight was different. The thought of Claire sharing his bed was surprisingly peaceful.

  Several times that night, he awoke to her caresses. She rubbed her hand lightly across his chest and allowed it to tarry by his heart. He found the need to return the touch without hurry until desire overwhelmed them. Alex made love to Claire again and again in a sleepy haze.

  As he held her in the early morning hours, it was difficult to forget the image of her terrified, unable to deal with the storm. She had been lost in her fear. His presence had calmed her, but what would she have done if he hadn’t been there?

  It would be social suicide if she was in the presence of others and had one of her attacks. Even cocooned at Pemhill, Claire was susceptible to the curse rumors. If tales spread through the estate and village that her curse caused the granary fire and details emerged about her fear of storms, the stories would make it to London within days. He had little doubt it would fuel the ton’s favorite pastime. How could he protect her from those who would like nothing better than to ridicule his wife?

  Were tonight’s revelations the reason she had never been highly desirable in the marriage market? He couldn’t reconcile the woman asleep in his bed with the cowering girl dressed in men’s clothing.

  A nag kept him from falling asleep. When Langham had told him Claire was fragile, he must have meant her fear of storms. It would explain the duke’s words before their marriage. Did her uncle realize the extent of her terror? Had he decided not to share the information in fear Alex would walk away?

  Alex wanted to believe the knowledge would have had little impact on his decision. But he wasn’t that naïve. He needed to consider the matter again in the light of day. No question Claire performed laudably with the tenants and the locals, charming every single one. He believed, then and now, that she had become an admirable partner in his work. The question he had to face was whether the night changed him more than it had Claire.

  The nag finally quieted, and sleep flooded his consciousness.

  * * *

  When dawn broke, Claire woke to the birds’ cheerful chorus in a volume guaranteed to carry into the next village. Spring was in full bloom, as attested to by last night’s storm. When she stretched, muscles protested in places she didn’t even know existed. At the sight
of a sleeping husband draped over her body and a possessive hand over her waist, a sigh of contentment escaped her. Alex had been an attentive lover. Her passion had met his at every level, resulting in something she would never have comprehended without experiencing it.

  Last night symbolized their commitment to each other. The intensity of their lovemaking could not have resulted from her fear of the storm. Alex’s tender attention and the ensuing emotions were the reasons for her response.

  Her happiness dimmed when she thought of how to explain last night’s behavior. In the sunlight, such fears appeared without cause. At night, with the wind howling and the thunder roaring, it was a nightmare. Would he think her a freak, so fearful of a spring thunderstorm he should lock her up at the first sign of a drizzle? Or her behavior too extreme for normal society because of her panic?

  Whether conceivable or not, her fears demanded she dress in men’s clothing during storms. In her mind, the explanation was purely logical, a comfort that kept her sane if her fears turned unyielding. Last night reminded her of the night her parents had died. The storm’s severity had blazed with power.

  Involuntarily, she shook, and Alex’s hand tightened around her in a hold to keep her steady. Claire felt his breath feather the back of her neck.

  She turned, careful not to wake him. She gazed upon his face and looked to her heart’s content. Year after year, she had dreamed of this moment, a quiet morning nestled in her husband’s arms in a safe home of her own. Glorious was too feeble a description. It was everything and more than she had imagined. Alex was magnificent and the most handsome man she’d ever had the good fortune to see. Was it any wonder she reacted so passionately to him? With his mouth parted slightly in sleep and the dark overnight stubble on his chin, Claire’s pulse quickened.

  Her heart almost thumped through her chest when Alex drawled, “Are you getting your fill, or is something so amiss on my person you can’t tear your eyes away?”

  Claire instinctively moved toward him as her body commanded. He gathered her into his arms, and she was conscious of every part of him that touched her. Burying her head into his chest, she smelled their lovemaking and tried to get closer. His hands captured her lower back, bringing her flush with his rampant erection.

  “Feel what you do to me. How will I get any work done if you throw a come-hither look when you pass me by? I’ll be reduced to an adolescent, unable to control myself.”

  Claire kissed his chest. When she looked up, his face held a sleepy smile.

  He took her mouth in a promising morning kiss. “Good morning, darling.”

  “Good morning.” Claire returned the embrace. She loved his terms of endearment. It was hard to believe she was married to this man.

  “Did you sleep?”

  “Yes, somewhat.” She stopped and raised an eyebrow. “If you’d left me alone, I probably would’ve gotten more.”

  He asked in a gentle whisper, “Are you all right?”

  Warmth spread over her cheeks. “I’m fine … more than fine.”

  She waited for him to tease her again. He looked at the overhead canopy instead, and disappointment crept through her body like a thief.

  “What happened last night? Were you remembering your parents’ accident?”

  Claire’s shame intruded upon the perfect morning. She didn’t move her head from his chest, as it was her only defense. His warmth and their time alone should have brought them closer. Instead, all she felt was a mortifying embarrassment.

  His voice rumbled deep as he continued, “I’ve never—”

  A brisk knock pounded on the connecting door.

  “My lord?” Jean-Claude’s voice boomed through the door. “I apologize, but Aileen is beside herself. She can’t find the marchioness and wants to know if you’ve seen her.”

  “Don’t enter,” Alex commanded. “She’s with me.”

  He became the seducer again and pulled her closer to his hard body. His low whisper met her ears, “And I intend not to let this beauty out of my sight for a while.” He quickly kissed her neck below her ear and nibbled her earlobe while pressing against her. “I could take you now.”

  “Very good, my lord. I will let Aileen know,” the valet called. “I want to remind you of your meeting with the steward. He has workers ready to start the granary rebuild.”

  With a groan, Alex kissed Claire on her cheek, then answered, “I’ll be ready in a moment.”

  Alex turned Claire’s face to his and looked deep in her eyes. “Last night—” He stopped. “I don’t want to leave, but they’re depending on me.” He leaned over and encaged her in his arms. “I indeed will have you again soon. We are not through with this conversation, lady wife.”

  He delivered a quick kiss to her forehead, then rose from the bed. The loss of his heat was immediate.

  Unperturbed by his nudity, he held out his banyan for her use. “Put this on. I’ll be back before evening. We’ll have dinner together.”

  Without a look back, Alex went to his dressing room, leaving the connecting door open. Claire slipped into the black silk robe. Mortified, she didn’t think she could face Jean-Claude without turning maroon. When she hurried past to make her way to Aileen, Jean-Claude delivered a slight grin, then attended his naked master.

  * * *

  After Aileen made quick work of dressing her in a moss-green riding habit, Claire headed downstairs for her morning ride.

  The day gave no hint that a violent storm had hit last night. Charles escorted her across the fields through a shortcut to the granary. The damage, though a real setback, was not devastating. However, the sight of Alex working alongside his tenants with his shirtsleeves rolled up sans jacket and waistcoat caused her to stop and study the scene before her. All of these people, including Alex, were now part of her life. With her new identity, she was no longer the Lady Claire of the curse, but the wife of a marquess who cared deeply for his estate and its people.

  Earlier, Claire had taken her responsibility to Alex and Pemhill to heart. She’d ordered a luncheon prepared and enlisted some of Pemhill’s under-maids to serve. Claire took her turn and served food while Alex watched her every move. As she served him, a secretive smile came to his lips. A familiar shiver of awareness washed over her when he stood near.

  Mr. Landers, a longtime tenant at Wrenwood, diverted Alex’s attention with a set of drawings for the new granary. Both men bent over a makeshift table as they examined the paper. The tenant quickly nodded as Alex pointed at the sketch.

  Adam Stoddard walked to her side and nodded in Alex’s direction. “Without his quick thinking last night, we might have had a real disaster on our hands. His Lordship kept track of the storm’s wind direction and instructed the men where to put the fire out first. Otherwise, if the flames had fueled an explosion, we’d have lost everything, including lives. Lord Pembrooke has the respect of every man here.”

  “That’s very kind. I’m not surprised he’s well regarded.”

  “Aye, Lady Pembrooke. So are you. My missus told me what you and Lord Pembrooke did for my little Mary. Dr. Camden was out to visit that evening, and she’s back to her sweet self. Once we go to market, I’ll repay you.”

  Claire took a deep breath as his words wrapped around her thoughts. She was finally home. “Mr. Stoddard, will you accept Dr. Camden’s visit as my gift for Mary’s birth? She’s quite special to me. She was the first baby I held after arriving at Pemhill.”

  The man’s face brightened as he grinned. “Thank you, my lady. That’s very generous.” He tipped his hat. “I’d best get back to work.”

  She made her way back to the tables to help pack up after lunch.

  “Lady Pembrooke, may I have a word?” Alex stood some distance from the others. Whatever he wanted to say, he expected privacy.

  She tilted her head in question as she drew near. “Yes, my lord?”

  “You are a wonder for sending this luncheon. The men needed the break.” He captured her gaze and drew near. “Thank
you for helping me.”

  “There’s no need to thank me. I wanted to be here.”

  “I thought perhaps after last night’s storm you might not feel up to…” He glanced at Mr. Landers and nodded. He brushed a fallen curl back behind her ear with a gentle touch that made her heart pound a little harder on the inside. “I must get back to work. I’ll be home soon.”

  Later, Claire waited for Alex in a wispy silk negligee and matching dressing gown, both trimmed in rich, soft lace and pearls made for her wedding night. The pearls made it impossible to sleep in, but that was the point. Alex needed to see the adornment and then immediately relieve her of it. She’d never had the opportunity to wear it before, and tonight would be perfect for the seduction she had planned. She would have her wedding night, better late than never.

  The connecting door opened and Alex entered. He held a bottle of Scotch and glasses from his chamber. When he saw her, he stopped midstride, and his eyes roved from the top of her head to her toes, then leisurely came back to her face. A wolfish smile graced his lips.

  “Welcome, my lord.” Claire laughed. “I’m happy you’re here.”

  “Is that for me?” He prowled around her, ready to pounce. “You must not want any sleep tonight.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Claire carefully dusted Alice Aubrey Hallworth’s bronze nameplate. The cool darkness within the Elizabethan mausoleum was in direct contrast with the single sunbeam that slid through the leaded glass window. The light fell on Lady Alice’s name as if favored by the heavens.

  Claire had discovered the building within her first couple of days at Pemhill. She often came here when out of sorts and always left with a sense of peace. After she tidied a couple of stray leaves left over from the fall and winter, she placed several lilies on the old marquess’s coffin. The larger bouquet was for Lady Alice. Claire liked to think that the young woman would have appreciated the gesture immensely.