The Prince's Bride

by Joanne Wadsworth

  He launched to his feet, extended both hands. “This is the perfect time for you and I to escape. We can enjoy a sail on the lake, just the two of us.”

  “Oh, surely Adrestia and Giovani should come with us. We need a suitable chaperone, particularly considering what happened earlier on your horse. Don’t you agree?” She placed her hands in his and he tightened his grip and gently drew her to her feet.

  “No, not when we can easily stay within sight of them and your guard.” Perhaps he needed a sweetener to ensure her agreement. “If you come with me, just the two of us, I’ll tell you exactly how and when and where I first met Giovani.” Hearing him waffle on about his earlier years seemed to be what she desired most.

  “Yes please, in that case, let’s go.” A beaming smile.

  “Excellent.” A chuckle as he guided her to the sand. He aided her into the skiff and once she was settled on the bench seat at the stern, he pushed the skiff into the shallows and waved to Adrestia and Giovani. “We’ll be back soon.”

  “Take care,” Adrestia called with a wave in return.

  “Take your time,” Giovani added with a smirk.

  “Will do.” He ignored that smirk, removed his sapphire blue riding jacket, folded it underneath the seat and got rid of his neckcloth. A flick of the top two buttons of his shirt so he could enjoy the breeze, then he collected the oars. From the center seat, he thrust the oars into the waves and sent them skimming out across the water, then once he’d passed the breakers, he tucked the oars away, gripped the ropes and raised the sail. The wind filled the canvas with a vigorous slap and with his booted feet braced wide along the side of the skiff, he steered them through the rougher swell. “Today is a perfect day to be out on the water.”

  “Look!” Olivia pointed to several fish jumping out and splashing back in. A seagull soared downward, wings tucked in. It plunged under the waves then emerged with a fish between its beaks and gobbled its meal. Laughing, she grasped her hair blowing in the wind, her locks long and loose without her hat to keep them contained. Half leaning over the side of the skiff, she giggled, her blouse plastered to her chest and the cream fabric showing the lacy outline of her chemise underneath. “Thank you for hiring a skiff. The Serpentine is beautiful and sailing along it is glorious.”

  “The sight before me is far more beautiful.” He couldn’t drag his gaze from hers.

  “Papa always enjoyed hunting in this park. There are plentiful deer and other wild animals.” She gestured to his white shirt now splotched with water. “You’re getting wet.”

  “Such is the life when one is a sailor.” The wind rushed past and the waves pounded against the bow, spraying even more water over him. “Do you want to come and help me hold the ropes?”

  “Yes, please.” Cheeks flushed a rosy color, she stood and swayed.

  “Come quickly.” He held out a hand and nabbed her around the waist, pulled her hard up against his chest. “Place your hands around mine on the ropes. I won’t let go of either them or you.”

  She wriggled around, her back to his chest, her hands sliding over his hands. “I don’t want to topple us overboard. I can’t swim in these heavy woolen skirts. I’d have to—”

  “Don’t say—”

  “—dispense of them.”

  “—it.” Now all he could envision was her dressed in nothing but her blouse, that imagery sending a buzz of heat flaring at the base of his spine and searing around to his cock. With her bottom tucked nicely into his groin, his cock rose to the challenge of trying to get even closer.

  “We’re sailing out of sight of the others. I can’t see Adrestia or Giovani any longer.” She wriggled against his erection, her lower cheeks snug either side of his shaft. A gasp as she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Oh my, you seem to be getting no relief from your manhood today.”

  “At least no one can tell what we’re doing or who we are this far from the shore.” Keeping the ropes steady, his woman firm in the circle of his arms, he steered them across the swell of white-tipped waves.

  “Papa never sailed in such strong winds as these, or with the skiff half out of the water as you’ve got it. If I reach over, I could almost touch the waves. I’m sure of it.”

  “Try it. Touch them.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Of course.” He angled his body sideways to give her better access to the waves and she turned in his arms then skimmed her fingers through the white surf. A burst of delightful giggles had her breasts bumping up and down against his chest.

  “This is an awe-inspiring experience.” She faced him fully, cupped his right cheek, her gentle touch making his heartbeat race. “How did you first meet Giovani? You promised you’d tell me the tale.”

  “Giovani and I are the same age. He was a lad of eleven when he came to Paradiso Island from Naples with his father, a master winemaker. My grandfather hired his father to oversee our vineyards, including the production and bottling of the wine. Giovani and I forged a strong friendship from the very first day we met. We would go sailing around the island together, dive along the reefs, fish with spears. Those sorts of things. We both had the exact same love of the sea.” Grasping the sail’s rope with one hand, he spread his other hand more firmly over her hip, then stroked lower still, over the lush curves of her backside hidden underneath the heavy layers of her riding skirts. She wriggled her hips against his hips and blast it, his cock filled even further and pressed hard against her belly.

  “Anteros.” Her breathing came faster, his as well.

  “I’m sorry, but my cock desperately wants to jab between your legs and settle itself in your heat.”

  “You shouldn’t say such things to a lady.” She twined her arms around his neck, pressed her cheek against his cheek and whispered in his ear, “Baciami?”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “I certainly—”

  The skiff crested a huge wave, which came out of nowhere and he gripped the ropes tighter, his biceps tensing and every muscle straining as he worked to control the wind power he’d harnessed in the skiff’s tight sail. “Hold tight,” he yelled, the bow rising sharply upward.

  The hull slammed down and water drenched them.

  He grappled to keep his footing, Olivia clinging to him. A quick change of course to keep them upright and he sailed through the critical moment. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. W-what about you?” Olivia shivered, water dripping from her, his angel completely drenched.

  “There’s nothing quite like a wild wind to fill a sailor’s heart with contentment.”

  “I should have expected that answer.” She wiped her face with her wet sleeve. “I’ll need to go home and change. I can’t possibly return to the meadow like this.”

  “There will be hackneys for hire near the entrance to the park.” Up ahead, boats for hire bobbed near the jutting wharf, the arched entrance to the park rising behind it. “We’re almost there.”

  “Wonderful.” A huge smile suddenly lifted her luscious lips. “I can’t believe how happy I am right now, sopping wet and totally disheveled. I love water, no matter what form it comes in.”

  “So do I. We have so much common.” As he neared the shoreline, he turned the skiff a touch more, enough for the wind not to hit the sail quite so fully, then holding her tight around her waist, he bounded back into the hull and aided her back onto the seat at the stern.

  A grip of the rudder. He skimmed the waves toward the wharf, then he dropped the sail completely as he came in alongside the pier. He tossed a rope to the hire master and the man brought them in.

  Snagging his jacket from under the seat, he wrung the water from it then swung it over Olivia’s shoulders to hide her now see-through blouse as best as he could. Onto the dock, he bounded, reached back for her and aided her onto the wooden platform beside him.

  Ushering her along the jetty, he raised a hand to hail the closest hackney and the driver opened the door of his conveyance fo
r him. He thanked the man and gave him instructions to take them directly to Grace Hall before handing Olivia inside into the warmth of the coach. In the darkened confines of the hackney, the curtains pulled across the windows, he removed his soggy jacket from her shoulders just as the hackney jerked forward and rattled through the arched gates onto the street.

  “Since we both need to get changed and my home is far closer than yours, you can borrow whatever you’d like from Adrestia’s wardrobe. She won’t mind in the least.” He certainly wasn’t prepared to end his day with her, not yet, not in any way. “It’ll be safer alighting from the hackney at Grace Hall rather than at the front door of my residence. We can easily sneak through the rear gardens to the servants’ entrance. I did promise to show you those gardens today, and I never break a promise.”

  “Yes, that’s a good plan.” In her drenched skirts, her hair dripping and skin slick, she shivered and inched closer into his side.

  “We can share body heat if you like?” He didn’t wait for her agreement but lifted her from the squabs and settled her in his lap.

  “Anteros.” She gave a little shriek as she clutched his shoulders, her nipples pebbling tight and poking into the thin silk of her cream blouse. “You need to warn a lady before you do something like that.”

  “I’d rather not.” His breeches tightened, the bulge at the front unmistakable. “I need to kiss you. That’s all the warning you’re going to get.”

  “That could be dangerous considering our current location.” Sliding one hand around the back of his head, she touched her nose to his nose, their breath melding as she scooted even closer.

  “I thrive on danger. I believe you do too.” He wanted her so badly, and it appeared she wanted him too. This connection between them wasn’t going to dissipate on its own, nor his fierce hunger for her, not when she continued to torment him so. He captured her mouth and kissed her, traced his tongue across her tongue as he invaded her mouth. “Tell me to stop if I go too far,” he muttered as he plundered between her lips.

  “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” She wriggled in his lap.

  “I want to devour you, Olivia.” He sucked her bottom lip between his lips and bit gently on her soft flesh. She nipped his lower lip in return, and he couldn’t hold back. He released a long stream of Italian, then allowed his raging need for her its full release and gave himself over to the heady passion roaring through him. Kissing her deeply, he ravished her mouth over and over, until her lips were delectably swollen and her heartbeat thumped madly against his own pounding heart.

  No stopping now.

  Chapter 10

  Desire rushed through Olivia as Anteros wrapped her fully up in a wondrous spell of need. He urged her lips farther apart and plunged his tongue inside her mouth. His kisses were divine and held an edge of hunger she couldn’t ignore, not when the same hunger roared through her as well. She pressed her breasts against his chest and embraced his heat, stroked down his sides, her shivers easing as he laid her down on the hackney’s bench seat and settled himself over top of her. She roamed around to his back and down over his bottom encased in hip-hugging tan breeches, his buttocks tightening in her grasp and his shaft poking determinedly into her belly.

  Heat flushed her cheeks at her brazen behavior.

  She shouldn’t be engaging in such a sensual romp with him, but then she had no choice. She’d fallen in love with him the very first day she’d met him, and it had become impossible to ignore her feelings any longer.

  “Let me touch you the way I want to,” he whispered against her lips. “Say yes.”

  “Yes.” Without question, she gave him her agreement.

  A devasting smile as he slowly slipped the edge of her damp blouse and lacy undergarment over one shoulder and exposed her right breast. He moaned, dipped his head and grazed his teeth over her nipple and oh my, her need for him doubled.

  “Do you like me kissing you here?” he murmured around her nipple.

  “Yes.”

  “This is exactly why innocent ladies need a chaperone.” He lifted his head, dropped a kiss on her locket before brushing his mouth over hers in a teasing caress.

  “We are an engaged couple.”

  “Falsely engaged, and no one here in London will learn about that false engagement other than who we’ve already told.” He grinned, rather wickedly. “You have beautiful breasts, Amore. I want to taste both of them.”

  “Wait.” She yanked her blouse back over her shoulder and palmed his wet chest.

  “No, we Bourbon men do not like it when our women cover themselves up.” He snapped his teeth together and released a low growl.

  “Before we go any further, we need to discuss this.” She curled her fingers around his dangling medallion. “I need to know what’s happening between us.”

  “I wish for an affair, one in which I promise I’ll keep your virtue intact. I thirst for more, although I’ll never take your maidenhead, not when it belongs to your future husband. Will you allow me to show you all the pleasure that’s possible when a man and a woman come together? We can take things slowly.” He lowered his tone, his voice a seductive whisper between them. “I crave you.”

  “When you kissed me last eve, I came alive for the first time in my life. You belong to me, Anteros, and I belong to you. Maybe that is a fanciful notion to you, but it isn’t to me.” Maybe it would take some time for him to come around to her way of thinking, but she had time, particularly when they’d soon be sailing together to Sicily. “When you’re away at sea, I count down the days until you return.”

  “Are you saying yes to an affair?” He touched her chin, kissed her lips.

  “I long for more time with you.” She certainly couldn’t just turn her love for him off, as if it didn’t exist. “Yes, I’m saying yes.”

  “I can’t wait to get you into my bed.” He tugged gently on her lower lip with his teeth, which sent delightful shivers coursing down her spine. She moaned and arched her back, and he nibbled on her upper lip next as he toyed with one of her damp curls.

  “Grace Hall!” A call from the driver up top, then the hackney slowed and stopped.

  “We’ll resume this conversation once we’re inside and changed.” Anteros lifted his sapphire blue riding jacket back over her shoulders, then opened the door and aided her down onto the street, Grace Hall rising beyond the front trees and gardens.

  He paid the driver, thanked him and sent him on his way. The hackney clattered down the street, the wind swirling and sending fallen leaves skittering in circles across the gravel driveway. Overhead, a heavy pall of gray clouds darkened to an ominous black and a crack of thunder boomed.

  “Let’s hurry. The heavens are about to open and unleash a downpour.” With a hand at her back, he guided her into the seclusion of the grounds, along a hedged pathway then around to the rear of the residence, the Hall’s windows cloaked and doors boarded up.

  They weaved around a fishpond with lily pads and bright orange goldfish swimming about, rounded a corner then emerged before a central garden with a statue as its centerpiece. A beautiful statue. One of an angel with long locks and a cloth loosely draped over the angel’s feminine body, the cloth hiding her breasts but not her midriff, concealing her hips and lower body but not her calves or bare feet. Her curved wings swept back, wingtips gracefully resting on the garden bed behind her.

  In this quiet slice of paradise, she stepped closer and touched one golden-yellow rose bud blooming in front of the marble sculpture. Lilies bloomed to the left, crimson-colored germini to the right and an abundance of white jasmine were dotted all around. The wind swept through and swirled the luscious perfume of the flowers.

  She smiled at Anteros. “These are the blooms from my bouquet. She’s a beautiful angel, and this is an incredibly tranquil spot.”

  “She reminds me of you, mio angelo.” He tugged his jacket more fully over her shoulders, the wind having blown one side away.

  She didn’t want to break thei
r eye contact, nor this heavenly moment, not when the man before her filled her vision and her heart. “I want to experience passion at your hand.” It was the truth, the utter truth. “There isn’t anyone else I want to be with, other than you.”

  “I’m only offering an affair, nothing more.” He plucked a golden-yellow rose from the bush, the bud tight and not yet fully open. Gently, he tucked the bloom behind her ear and kissed the tip of her nose.

  “I’ve already said yes.” She had no intention of changing her mind about the affair.

  “I am going to take you to my bedchamber this second, light the fire and ensure you are warm, then we’ll talk some more about the pleasure I intend on giving you.”

  “What about your staff?”

  “My butler is very discreet. You can trust Bellini not to utter a word about your visit to another soul.” He caught her hand, tugging her right along with him as he dashed around the garden. “The servants’ entrance is this way.”

  Another rumble of thunder and raindrops splattered the ground.

  Anteros opened the servants’ door and steered her into a darkened lobby with two doors and a stairwell leading from it, the clatter of pots and pans echoing from behind the closest of the two doors.

  “The kitchens?” she asked quietly.

  “Yes.” He drew her up the winding stairwell, oil burning in an iron wall sconce on the corner up ahead. They rounded the bend and when they reached the very top landing, he rubbed her arms to instill some warmth into her. “Wait here while I check the hallway remains clear.”

  She nodded, and he left through the door.

  When he returned with a candle in hand, he snagged her around the waist and marched her along a passageway holding a thick burgundy and gold woven runner, the walls lined in a deep wine-colored silk wallpaper. Under a gilt-edged plaster arch, he guided her directly into a large bedchamber. His.

  She now stood in Captain Anteros Bourbon’s private rooms.