by Aileen Fish
For years, he’d lived by the simple rules... no broken hearts, no grieving widows, no fatherless sons. Yet, looking at Daisy’s anguish and desire, both so expressively revealed in her vivid blue eyes, he wanted to toss away all rules and just follow his heart. He desperately wanted Daisy, needed her more than he needed air to breathe.
How could he do this to her?
Her smile faded. “I’m an utter goose. You meant this to be a marriage of convenience, one easily annulled upon your return. You’re not going to seduce me, are you?”
He stopped her when she tried to pull away, wanting to feel her silken skin beneath his palms. “Daisy, you don’t understand. I wish it were otherwise.”
“So do I,” she whispered, straining the bonds of his resolve with her wide-eyed gaze.
His body was hot and about to ignite, her body serving as the spark. Lord, she was perfect. Soft and curved in all the right places. Vibrant, yielding... passionate. “I’m going to miss you desperately, you impossible little baggage. I don’t want out of our marriage.”
She let out the softest breath.
And burst into tears. “Then what’s wrong with you?” she accused between sniffles. “Haven’t you read Graelem’s warning? Or Wellington’s warning? The French know you’re coming. They’ll shoot you the moment you set foot on French soil.”
“If they catch me. Thanks to you, they’ll be waiting at Boulogne while I safely land elsewhere.”
“And in the meantime, am I supposed to sit idly by and do nothing?”
His heart tightened. “What are you suggesting? I can’t take you with me on this mission.”
“I know. But there’s something more you must do. For me. For us.” Her hands trembled as she rested them against his chest. “I love you, Gabriel. Is this all I’m to have of you?”
She was asking him to consummate the marriage. He wanted to... she wanted to... but it was a mistake. Perhaps the most idiotic thing he’d ever done.
“It’s the right thing to do,” she insisted, seeming to read his mind and determined to contradict him. “You may think your way is less hurtful to me, but you’re wrong. The worst thing you can do is deny me these last moments, if they’re to be our last moments together. Though I fervently pray they’re not. Please, Gabriel. You married me. If you’re content with the bargain, then make it official. Make me your wife in more than name only.”
He felt his resistance weakening.
She must have felt it, too, for she pressed her advantage. “Give me one precious memory of our life together.”
He said nothing for a long moment.
Her eyes began to water and he knew she was fighting to hold back her tears. “Is this what you’ll remember on those cold, French nights? Not me, soft and willing in your arms. But you and your blasted pride. You and your misguided sense of honor.”
“Damn it, Daisy. Enough.” He lifted her into his arms and settled her on the bed. The mattress dipped as he sat down beside her and reached out to stroke her cheek. “My friends and I made a pact... we swore to leave behind no broken hearts, no grieving widows.” He thought briefly of Julia and little Harry, and knew by Daisy’s expression that she was thinking of them as well.
“You had better rethink that pact, because I’m not going to live my life regretting these last moments... not that I want them to be our last moments together, but if they are, they’d better be spectacular. I’m not letting you out of this room until I have you, all of you, heart, body, and soul to carry with me forever. And when a Farthingale says forever, she means it. Napoleon’s wrath will be nothing to mine if I don’t get my way in this. Please, Gabriel. Don’t walk away and leave me with nothing.”
He meant to refuse. He meant to hold firm and live by the rules that had kept him safe, numb, all these years, but he made the mistake of gazing into Daisy’s incredible blue eyes... eyes filled with love. For him.
To hell with pacts and to hell with rules. Had Daisy managed to get even one of Lady Forsythia’s rules right? The answer was a resounding no, yet she’d captured his heart in spite of it... probably because of it. Her body felt warm and soft as he slipped the shawl off her shoulders and then did the same with her gown, loosening the laces at her bosom to bare her creamy breasts. “Sweetheart,” he said in a whisper, his loins tight and on fire, his heart about to explode. “You’re so beautiful, you steal my breath away.”
She closed her eyes and arched into him as he cupped one soft, full mound in his palm. He teased his thumb across its pink tip and let out a groan as it hardened beneath his touch. He circled his arm around her waist to draw her closer, wanting her soft body crushed against him, needing to wrap her in his protective embrace and bury himself inside her.
He wanted to hear her breathy moans and feel the explosive heat of her passion as she reached her climax. He was lost and could no longer fight it. Giving in, he dipped his mouth to hers and took her in a long, deep kiss that roused a maelstrom of desire in both of them. Daisy was so open and passionate. She held nothing back in her response.
He slipped the gown off her luscious body, and then practically ripped off his own clothes.
Gad, you’d think this was his first time. Well, it was his first time with her. He wanted to make it right, a lifetime’s worth of right. His breath caught at the sight of her bandaged leg. He’d have to be careful with that tender wound.
He settled her flat upon the bed, his gaze soaking in all of her, the cream silk of her skin, her lush breasts and their perfect pink tips, her beautiful long legs. Her hair fanned out across the crisp, white sheets, those long, silken strands as dark as coal against them. Her eyes were as bright as a May sky, a warm, gleaming azure blue.
She wanted him.
She loved him.
He nudged his legs between hers, settling his large body atop her slender frame, though he balanced most of his weight on his elbows. She felt so good beneath him. Too good. He was hard and ready, his skin fiery hot and his muscles tense from the strain of wanting to take it slow with Daisy.
But his wife—damn, that sounded good—was too impatient.
So was he. His finger found the nub of her passion between her thighs and he gently began to stroke her there.
Her eyes shot open and she gasped, but as he continued to stroke and tease, her surprise gave way to heat, and soon her eyes were drifting closed, her body moving against his finger as she softly moaned his name. “Gabriel.”
Lord, she was beautiful. She wanted him. He felt her desire in the moist, liquid heat between her thighs.
An ocean breeze blew in cool, salty air through the open window. He dipped his head, kissed Daisy on the lips, and tasted the honeyed tea she had been drinking. He kissed a trail down her neck, then lower to her beautiful breasts, his tongue flicking across the budded tips, licking and tasting their silken warmth. Her breasts tasted like cinnamon and apples. She was a veritable feast for a starving man... and he’d been starved of real affection for so long. Finding it again, feeling it as sweetly as he did now, was all because of Daisy.
Only because of Daisy.
His heart thundered and blood heated as he poised himself over her and slowly entered her. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into her velvet opening with a satisfied growl.
“Magic,” she whispered against his ear, her hands on his shoulders and body straining awkwardly and innocently against his, seeking a fulfillment she had never experienced before, but she would soon... any moment now, for he was pushing and thrusting... and she was arching and trembling with heat and need, her body embracing each sensation. Her legs tightened around his waist and she raised her hips to fully absorb his shaft.
Gad, he was about to explode!
Each thrust brought him closer to mindless release, to heat and fire and savage hunger, to a craving for Daisy that would never be satisfied as long as he lived. He would always want more of her.
He would always want her.
She was everything his heart w
as missing.
“Sweet heaven,” she whispered, her breath soft and voice aching, “you feel so good inside me.”
He thrust and tasted and ran his hands along her warm skin, his fingers skimming across her engorged, pink nipples, and then his mouth closed over one of those hard, pink tips, licking and teasing until she was once again breathless and moaning his name. His thrusts came faster, his kisses deeper, hotter, harder until he felt her shudder and heard the soft glory of her ecstasy. Her body strained, she cried out again and begged him not to stop, not ever, and fisted her hands in his hair. He felt the thump, thump, thump of her heart against his lips, then felt and heard nothing but the slow, building roar of his release, a crashing wave of pleasure that slammed and dipped and slammed within his body, lifting him in a great, heaving motion heavenward and holding him there for an exquisite eternity until all was spent—his seed spilled and his member throbbing against Daisy’s thigh.
His voice was hoarse and raspy as he grunted his pleasure.
Daisy laughed. “Magic.”
He grunted again, rolling her atop him so that her creamy breasts molded to his hot, damp chest. So good. So perfect. He wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her a gentle squeeze. She grinned, waiting for him to agree. “Aye, sweetheart. It was magic.”
“I love you, Gabriel.”
The wind blew gently through her dark hair. He kissed her again... and again… and lower because he couldn’t get enough of her… and then his tongue found the sweet heat between her thighs. He stroked and swirled as she clutched the sheets and moaned his name. He caressed her until she throbbed and soared against his lips, her love for him a treasured memory for the harrowing months ahead.
***
Sunlight streamed through the open window and glistened off Gabriel’s gold hair. Daisy was still in his arms, floating in his arms to be precise, for she felt as light as a cloud and so happy, even though she understood this perfect moment could not last. He would leave soon. She refused to think about it. There was nothing she could do to stop him.
She absently stroked the gold hairs that glistened on his forearms, breathed in the mix of salt and musk against his hot, damp skin. They were spooned together, her back to his chest, and she savored the protective strength of his arms around her body.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, turning her so that they faced each other, her breasts once again molding to his rock hard chest. He was big and muscled and perfect. She traced the scar across his brow, then delicately traced the welt on his shoulder where the shot fired in Hyde Park had struck him. Only a graze, he’d said. Apparently, that’s all it was, though it had drawn his blood and would leave a red, puckered scar. Even his scars were perfect, not that she’d ever wanted him to suffer. But the hard years had molded him into the man he was today.
The man she desperately loved.
“I’m thinking that I’m glad Laurel and my father put a pistol to your head and made you marry me.”
He let out a deep, throaty laugh. “There was no pistol. I volunteered, if you will recall. I would have offered for you eventually, perhaps not at that moment. You know that, don’t you?” His mirth subsided and he turned serious. “I need you to know that no one forced me to marry you.”
She nodded.
Another moment passed, the two lazily nestled in each other’s arms, Gabriel running his fingers in a soft swirl against her skin. She clung to him, her hand gripping his big, muscled shoulder because she never wanted to let him go. She would have to soon. She sensed him shifting away before he spoke, and then he turned to her. “Sweetheart, I have to go.”
Her eyes misted.
“I want you to smile for me. Be brave for me... a little while longer. I couldn’t bear it if you cried.”
She nodded again, though she doubted he was convinced.
He ran a hand raggedly through his hair. An unruly lock curled over his forehead. Another curled at the nape of his neck, just below his ear. “Promise me that you’ll lead a happy life, no matter what happens or whatever you hear over the next few months.”
She did, promising all he asked because it was important for him to believe she would manage life without him.
He sat up, threw his long legs over the edge of the bed, and glanced out the window again. “You had better get dressed. Major Brandt and Ian will be back soon. How do you feel?”
She cast him a tender smile. “Splendidly aglow.”
He leaned forward and gently kissed her on the nose. “Yes, it was pretty damn fantastic. However, I meant how does your leg feel?”
She followed his gaze to her wound. “It’s a little sore. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“My battle-hardened warrior,” he teased. “Major Brandt is recommending you for a medal.”
She laughed. “Me? That’s ridiculous. Desiree is the one who saved your manly hide.”
“Bloody hell,” he said under his breath, his smile fading. “I’m sorry, Daisy. I never meant... she wasn’t... she doesn’t hold a candle to you.”
She tried to hide the flicker of pain in her eyes. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. You thought so, too. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have taken her under your protection. Is that the proper expression? It’s such a polite expression.”
He glanced at her, appalled. “Appearances are deceiving. She was a necessary part of my dissolute reputation. There’s nothing between us. I’m deeply grateful for what she did, for she risked her life in warning Graelem. I’ll make sure the Prince Regent generously rewards her. She’ll do well for herself. Such women always do.”
He stood to dress, his golden body on exquisite display. She remained in bed and watched him, admiring his perfectly proportioned torso and its sinewed strength. He quickly donned his trousers and shirt, then nudged her out of bed and helped her into her gown, though he took a disproportionate amount of time smoothing it over her breasts, insisting they were woefully in need of his attention. “Tell my idiot cousin that he’d better be more careful with his injured leg.”
She had been so distraught about reaching Gabriel in time to save his life that she had made no mention of Laurel’s distress. Dear heaven! Please, let Laurel survive. She quickly told Gabriel everything.
His tawny eyes darkened and he frowned. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. Graelem’s by her side as he should be. Your uncle is a most extraordinary man, best physician I’ve ever seen. He won’t let her come to harm.” He took her into his arms and held her gently.
She rested her cheek against his chest, wishing they had more time together, but knowing it couldn’t be. At least he’d be pleased to know that the Malinors would get their due. “What will happen to Auguste and his father? Will they be placed under arrest?”
Gabriel nodded. “Hopefully tried and hanged before the month is out. I’m sorry I’ll miss their disgrace. Bastards. I think they meant to shoot you that day in the park.”
She gasped. “Me? Why?”
“It was their way of threatening me, of expressing their hatred for me. Perhaps they didn’t intend to kill you, but from that range, it would have been easy to miss your shoulder and hit a vital organ.”
“Is that why Lord Malinor invited me onto his phaeton? To make me an easier target?”
He gave a curt nod. “Likely.”
“I hate them,” she said at his nod. “I’ve never met two more loathsome characters.”
“They’ll get what they deserve. The punishment for treason is death.”
She shuddered, wishing she better understood the art of political intrigue. Having been raised in a family in which everyone voiced their honest opinion and valued love over wealth, she was at a loss to understand why the Malinors, a family with more wealth than could be spent in a lifetime of profligacy, should lie and scheme to attain even more. Was it mere greed that motivated them, that left them dissatisfied and hungry for more? “Why did Auguste propose to me? First he plots to shoot me and then to marry me? It makes no sense.�
��
Gabriel shrugged, though there was nothing casual about his anger. “I don’t know. Perhaps they changed tactics and decided it was a better way to get back at me. Perhaps I’m wrong about all of it and Auguste did care for you.”
“No,” she said with a grim laugh. “He barely tolerated me.”
His gaze softened. “The man would have to be a fool not to fall in love with you.”
She caressed his cheek. “He didn’t love me. I don’t think he even liked me. I never cared for him either. I would never have accepted his proposal.” She sighed. “Certainly not after I’d met you. I suppose it doesn’t matter. None of their plans came to pass.”
“But something else quite important did.”
She tipped her head and gazed up at him. “What?”
“Your family will soon know they almost made a terrible mistake, one that might have cost you your life, certainly your happiness, had you not held your ground and refused to marry Auguste.” Gabriel took hold of her hands. “I should have done more to protect you. In truth, I’m the one who put you in danger. Can you ever forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive. I just need you to get yourself back to me as soon as possible.” She lifted on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips. He responded by sweeping her into his arms and stealing her breath with a not-so-gentle, devouring kiss.
“I won’t cry. I promise. But I’m going to miss you,” she said in a whisper.
“I’ll miss you, too.” He drew her against his body and held her to him as though he never wished to let her go. But he hadn’t said he loved her. Why wouldn’t he say it to her? He’d made love to her, exquisite, magical love, but that was merely an act of the body. Would she ever claim his heart?
She heard a light knock at the door, recognizing Major Brandt’s raspy voice and the more refined tones of the Duke of Edgeware as they called to Gabriel.