What in the world?
Mother, too, made her escape, leaving Ivonne standing befuddled in the center of the study. Why did she need courage, and what would be well? First casting her father a questioning glance, she allowed her gaze to feast on Falcon.
No man should be that beautiful.
The black of his cutaway coat and the royal blue of his striped waistcoat made his eyes more vivid. How could his eyelashes be so dark with hair that fair?
His gaze leisurely roamed her length. Hot little pricks of awareness popped out along the visual path his gaze traveled.
Gads.
Her senses came alive with strange little prickles as they were wont to do when he looked at her that way. If his eyes alone had the power to arouse her this much, imagine what his touch would do. She’d be sliding off her chair if he kept gazing at her so seductively.
She cleared her throat and focused on her father as she advanced further into the room. “Whatever is going on?”
“I think I’ll let Faulkenhurst explain.” He smiled and winked. After a quick embrace, Father strode from the room, leaving the door ajar.
Staring at the entry, Ivonne shook her head. “Is everyone dicked in the nob this morning?”
Falcon chuckled, that delicious rumble that sent her pulse skittering out of control. “No, they know we have something of importance to discuss and wished to give us some privacy.”
Lord, no.
He’s leaving for America. She wasn’t prepared. It was way too soon.
Her legs now the consistency of warm pudding, she wobbled to the sofa. Scrutinizing his dear face, she plopped ungracefully onto the cushion. She swallowed, fisting her hands in her skirt’s folds. She couldn’t bear his going away again.
“You’re sailing to America. I hadn’t thought you’d leave quite this soon.” She tried to smile, but her lips refused to turn upward.
Falcon sat beside her. “Ivy, I’m—”
Palm outward, Ivonne raised her arm and cut him off. Her hand quivered so badly, she lowered it to her lap. She must propose this very minute, before he had a chance to say another word.
“Please, I have something to ask you, and if I don’t ask now, I’ll never have the courage again.” She closed her eyes and sucked in a steadying breath. Squaring her shoulders, she opened her eyes and stared directly into the azure depths of his. “I don’t suppose you’d consider ...? That is, would you be opposed to ...?”
Quivering from nervousness, Ivonne could barely make her tongue work. She tried again despite her shaky voice. “I wanted to know if you would ...?”
Dash it all, this wasn’t how she’d imagined the proposal would go. She lowered her eyelashes as the heat of humiliation crept steadily from her bosom to her cheeks. They likely glowed like candied apples as they did when she was embarrassed. Nonetheless, she must do this.
She peeped at him through her eyelashes.
A bemused expression on his face, Falcon stared at her. “Go on.”
“Will you marry me?” she blurted in a breathy rush.
“Yes.”
“I know I’m not ...” Her gaze jumped to meet his, and her heart hammered so hard, she could scarcely breathe. “Yes?”
The word emerged as a strangled squeak. She dared a tiny smile.
“You said yes? You’ll marry me? Really?”
Falcon smiled, his perfect white teeth a stark contrast against his tanned face. He cupped her cheek with his good hand.
“Ivy, your father granted me permission to propose to you just moments ago.”
Ivonne’s mouth dropped open. “Oh.”
Placing a finger beneath her chin, Falcon closed her mouth. His lips hitched upward into one of his irresistible smiles. “It seems he’s been waiting for me to return to England and ask for your hand. I asked to marry you once before, and he refused.”
“You did? He did?”
Father had turned Falcon away? How could he?
All these years she’d yearned for his love, and he’d already asked her father to marry her. Just wait until she had a moment alone with her sire. She’d give him a colorful earful he wouldn’t soon forget.
“He wanted me to come back when you were older and I had the means to take care of you. However, your father realized you loved me, had been pining for me all these years.”
Ivy angled her head proudly. “I wasn’t pining.”
“No?” Falcon quirked a brow.
She lifted a shoulder. “I just never entertained any notion of marrying anyone else.”
Eyeing the door, she suddenly stiffened, tucking her chin to her chest. “Father turned you away because you weren’t wealthy? I never thought him so shallow.”
“He wanted to make sure I loved you for you, and not your marriage settlement. He told me, just now, that when he realized I truly loved you and you loved me, he’d been waiting for me to return and ask for you again.”
Chance ran a finger along her jaw.
“He loves you very much and only wants to see you happy.”
He took her hand in his calloused one.
“I came here today seeking his permission to wed you. Your father summoned you so I could propose. Only you, minx,” Falcon tapped the end of her nose, “beat me to it.”
He’d been about to propose to her? Her heart soaring on wings of joy, she managed a tremulous smile.
Scooting nearer, he gathered her in his arms. “Though you were too young and I knew we’d have to wait, I’ve wanted to make you my bride since you were fifteen.”
“Truly?” She blinked back tears of elation.
“I swear.” His golden head descended until only an inch separated their lips. “I love you, Ivy. Will you be my bride?”
His mouth grazed hers, a tantalizing promise.
“Yes, Falcon, I shall.” With a sigh, she sealed her promise with love’s binding kiss.
Epilogue
London, England
Late June, 1818
Standing before the rector, Ivonne smiled into Falcon’s loved-filled eyes.
They were married. She’d dreamed that this day might come. Seated in the front pew, resplendent in a plum cutaway coat and matching breeches trimmed with diamonds and rubies, the Prince Regent beamed his approval.
Falcon’s family, as well as hers and Miss Kingsley, of course, completed the witnesses. Dozens of guests awaited them at home where an extravagant wedding breakfast had been prepared.
“I love you, Mrs. Faulkenhurst.” Falcon’s caressed her palm with his thumb.
A delicious tremor shook her. What his touch did to her.
“And I love you.”
“What say you we make our escape?” He grasped her hand and hurried her past the small crowd of laughing well-wishers to the waiting carriage.
Ivonne giggled when he tickled her ribs while lifting her into the conveyance.
“Ah, my wife is ticklish.” After jumping into the vehicle, he promptly lowered the window coverings.
Settling her on his lap, he proceeded to nuzzle her neck and caress her ribs.
A new bout of giggles ended on a blissful sigh when Falcon claimed hers lips in a scorching kiss. She leaned into him, surrendering to her desire, daring to meet his tongue with her own as she slipped her hands beneath his shirt. Hard muscles and warm flesh met her exploring fingers. She’d never tire of touching him.
Several tantalizing moments passed before Ivonne angled away from him. He needed to know she understood theirs wouldn’t be the typical wedding night. But how to say so delicately was a bit of a pickle. It wouldn’t do to offend Falcon on their wedding day.
“Falcon?”
“Why the serious face?” Bending his neck, he nibbled along her collarbone. He ventured ever lower, releasing her breasts from their confines. He gently cupped the mounds, raining kisses across the sensitive flesh.
God, she would die if he didn’t take a nipple in his mouth.
As if he heard her thoughts, he encircled an aching
tip with his warm lips. He suckled, grazing the end with his teeth.
A stab of intense pleasure flickered between her legs. She gasped and clutched his head, making him stop. She couldn’t think straight when he kissed her so.
“This is important,” she gasped, barely recognizing the husky voice as her own. “Please listen.”
He raised his head, peering into her eyes.
“All right.” He brushed a stray curl from her face. “What is it you are determined to tell me, wife? I have other things I’d rather be doing than chatting.”
He stared pointedly at her breasts before sweeping a finger across the top of the mounds. He dipped lower, softly scraping a fingernail across a turgid nipple.
She gasped again, unprepared for the hot desire flooding her. She seized his wandering finger and eyed him, afraid to say anything to disrupt his happiness.
“Come on, love. Out with it.” He gave her a playful prod in the ribs.
Ivonne rested against his hard chest.
“You know I love you? No matter what?” She angled her head to peek at him.
His gorgeous mouth slid into one of his stunning smiles. “I know. And I love you. Tell me, what has you worried?”
“I don’t mind that we cannot have children.” She touched the scar on his cheek.
Falcon stilled and made an inarticulate sound in his throat. His eyes rounded, and his jaw sagged. He stared at her with such intensity, she squirmed on his lap and dropped her gaze to her hands.
He tilted her chin upward with a finger until their eyes met. “Pray tell me, why do you think we cannot have children?”
“Well, because you ...” Ivonne gazed at him warily. Her focus sank to his cravat as she whispered, “You lost your manhood in India.”
He threw back his head, exposing the strong column of his throat and laughed, a rich unrestrained guffaw.
“Well, I certainly do not think it’s a laughing matter,” she huffed, nonplussed by his reaction.
His chest shaking from amusement, Falcon wiped at his eyes.
“Darling, let me assure you, my manhood is in perfect working order.” He gripped her hips, holding her firmly to his lap, and shifted his hips upward.
Something hard flexed against her bottom.
“Oh. Oh! Is that your ...?”
“Indeed.” He waggled his eyebrows, a wolfish grin on his mouth.
“It works properly?”
He pressed his rigid length against her buttocks once more. “Most assuredly, madam.”
Melting into his arms, Ivonne sighed and raised her lips in invitation.
“Then everything is absolutely perfect.”
The End
About the Author
Award winning, best-selling author, Collette Cameron, has a BS in Liberal Studies and a Master's in Teaching. Author of the Castle Brides Series and Highland Heather Romancing a Scot Series, Collette writes Regency and Scottish historicals and makes her home in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and five mini-dachshunds. Mother to three and a self-proclaimed Cadbury Chocolate chocoholic, Collette loves a good joke, inspirational quotes, flowers, trivia, and all things shabby chic. You'll always find dogs, birds, quirky—sometimes naughty—humor, and a dash of inspiration in her novels.
Her motto for life? You can’t have too much chocolate, too many hugs, or too many flowers.
She’s thinking about adding shoes to that list.
Also by Collette Cameron
THE VISCOUNT’S VOW
The Castle Brides Series
Soul Mate Publishing
Part Romani, part English noblewoman, Evangeline Caruthers is the last woman in England Ian Hamilton, the Viscount Warrick, could ever love—an immoral wanton responsible for his brother’s and father’s deaths. She thinks he’s a foul-tempered blackguard, who after setting out to cause her downfall, finds himself forced to marry her—snared in the trap of his own making.
When Vangie learns the marriage ceremony itself may have been a ruse, she flees to her gypsy relatives, declaring herself divorced from Ian under Romani law. He pursues her to the gypsy encampment, and when the handsome gypsy king offers to take Ian’s place in Vangie’s bed, jealousy stirs hot and dangerous.
At last, under a balmy starlit sky, Ian and Vangie breech the chasm separating them. Peril lurks though. Ian’s the last in his line, and his stepmother intends to dispose of the newlyweds so her daughter can inherit his estate. Only by trusting each other can they overcome scandal and murderous betrayal.
Purchase THE VISCOUNT’S VOW on Amazon
HIGHLANDER’S HOPE
The Castle Brides Series
Soul Mate Publishing
She was the heiress determined to never marry.
Yvette Stapleton is wary of fortune hunting men and their false declarations of love. She’d rather become a spinster than imprisoned in the bonds of marriage. At first, she doesn’t recognize the dangerously handsome man who rescues her from assailants on London’s docks, but her reaction to Lord Sethwick’s kisses soon have her reconsidering her cynical views on matrimony.
He was the nobleman who vowed to make her his own.
Not a day has gone by that Ewan McTavish, Lord Sethwick and Laird of Craiglocky, hasn’t dreamed of the beauty he danced with two years ago; he’s determined to win her heart. On a mission to stop a War Office traitor, he unwittingly draws Yvette into deadly international intrigue. To protect her, he exploits Scottish Canon law to declare her his lawful wife—without benefit of a ceremony.
Yvette is furious upon discovering the irregular marriage is legally binding, though she never said, “I do.”
Purchase HIGHLANDER’S HOPE on Amazon
THE EARL’S ENTICEMENT
The Castle Brides Series
Soul Mate Publishing
She won’t be tamed.
A fiery, unconventional Scot, Adaira Ferguson wears breeches, swears, and has no more desire to marry than she does to follow society’s dictates of appropriate behavior. She trusts no man with the secret she desperately protects.
He can’t forget.
Haunted by his past, Roark, the Earl of Clarendon, rigidly adheres to propriety, holding himself and those around him to the highest standards, no matter the cost. Betrayed once, he’s guarded and leery of all women.
Mistaking Roark for a known spy, Adaira imprisons him. Infuriated, he vows vengeance. Realizing her error, she’s appalled and releases him, but he’s not satisfied with his freedom. Roark is determined to transform Adaira from an ill-mannered hoyden to a lady of refinement.
He succeeds only to discover, he preferred the free-spirited Scottish lass who first captured his heart.
Purchase THE EARL’S ENTICEMENT on Amazon
TRIUMPH AND TREASURE
Book One in The Highlander Heather Romancing a Scot Series
Soul Mate Publishing
A disillusioned Scottish gentlewoman.
Angelina Ellsworth once believed in love—before she discovered her husband of mere hours was a slave-trader and already married. To avoid the scandal and disgrace, she escapes to her aunt and uncle’s, the Duke and Duchess of Waterford. When Angelina learns she is with child, she vows she’ll never trust a man again.
A privileged English lord.
Flynn, Earl of Luxmoore, led an enchanted life until his father committed suicide after losing everything to Waterford in a wager. Stripped of all but his title, Flynn is thrust into the role of marquis as well as provider for his disabled sister and invalid mother. Unable to pay his father’s astronomical gambling loss, Flynn must choose between social or financial ruin.
When the duke suggests he’ll forgive the debt if Flynn marries his niece, Flynn accepts the duke’s proposal. Reluctant to wed a stranger, but willing to do anything to protect her babe and escape the clutches of the madman who still pursues her, Angelina agrees to the union. Can Flynn and Angelina find happiness and love in a marriage neither wanted, or is the chasm between them insurmountable?
Purchase TRIUMPH AND TREASURE on Amazon
VIRTUE AND VALOR
Book Two in The Highlander Heather Romancing a Scot Series
Soul Mate Publishing-Spring 2015
Bartholomew Yancy never expected to inherit an English earldom and had no intention of marrying, but when the title, Earl of Ramsbury, is thrust upon him, he’s obligated to find a wife and produce an heir. Only one woman holds the least appeal, an exquisite Scotswoman, Isobel Ferguson. His reputation as a notorious rake, however, has caught up with him. Believing he’s practically betrothed to another and his interest in her cannot possibly be honorable, Isobel wants nothing to do with him.
Disillusioned with men pursuing her for her beauty rather than her intellect, Isobel has all but abandoned hope of finding a husband in the Highlands. When she is abducted by a band of rogue Scots, Yancy, unlike her other admirers, risks his life to rescue her. To salvage her compromised reputation, her brother and father insist she marry the man.
He may be attractive, with his jungle-green eyes and broad shoulders, but she is not about to be forced into marriage with a ne’er-do-well. Yancy is delighted to take her to wife, but unless he can convince the Scottish lass he’s changed his ways, Isobel would rather be a spinster than marry him.
Coming Soon!
A KISS FOR MISS KINGSLEY
Bride of Falcon Page 10