Oh, she liked having this power. She eased the cloth off one shoulder, slipped it off the other. The silk slowly glided down.
He growled, low and feral, before moving swiftly, capturing her, and rolling her onto the bed until she was on her back, and he was pressed against her side, raised up on an elbow, gazing down on her. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to see you in light. When we go to the estate, I’m going to take you out to a field, where the sunlight can shine down on you, and I shall make wild, passionate love to you there.”
“Outside?”
“We’re going to make love everywhere: in the forests, in the rain, in every room, every building.” He skimmed his hand along her side. “I love you, Minerva.”
“I shall never tire of your saying that.”
“Good. I intend to say it every day.”
“I love you, Ashe. I can’t believe how much. I didn’t know it was possible to love this deeply.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, and she allowed everything she felt for him to bubble up as passion consumed them in a conflagration that she feared might leave them both scorched. How was it that there could be so many various sensations coming together to create a marvelous journey into pleasure?
As they touched, kissed, stroked, caressed, the fire that had always been between them built, higher, wider, stronger. Their movements became frenzied, their needs overwhelming. When she thought she would go mad with wanting, he plunged into her, hard, deep. Her body closed around him, held him tightly.
Lifting himself above her, he gazed down on her, pumping into her with sure, steady, hard thrusts. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she dug her fingers into his buttocks, holding him close, urging him on. Every inch of her felt as though sparks were shooting from her. Their bodies became slick. Their moans and groans echoed around them.
The sensations built, tightened, then exploded. Fireworks burst behind her eyes as she cried out his name, heard him growl hers as he threw his head back with a final thrust.
Then he stilled. His breathing as harsh and heavy as hers. With a satisfied smile, he kissed the tip of her nose before rolling onto his side and bringing her flush against him.
“It’s magnificent with light,” she said breathlessly. “When I can see everything.”
He chuckled low. “I should have a mirror installed above us for you.”
She nipped at his nipple. “Maybe we’ll just go to the Nightingale one night.”
“If you like.”
“Might be interesting.”
“We’ll go on the anniversary of your first visit.”
She trailed her fingers along his chest. “Will you show me your private collection of photos sometime?”
“I burned them.”
Rising on her elbow, she stared down on him. “Why?”
“Because I no longer needed them.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “They helped me deal with the images of carnage that I couldn’t get out of my mind. I thought that if I could replace those images with perfect lines, I could conquer the nightmares. But it didn’t work until you. As I told you, thoughts of you silence the horrors. So I had no need to keep the others.”
“I should have liked to see them.”
“I can re-create them with you as my model.”
“If I pose for you, you must pose for me. Tit for tat.”
Grinning, he threaded his fingers through her hair, held her head. “My daring and wicked wife. Is it any wonder that I love you?”
Then he brought her down, captured her mouth, and plundered.
Wasn’t love grand?
Epilogue
Several years later
STANDING on the sixth step of the stairs that led into the foyer, Ashe stared at the door through which he’d watched his parents leave. It was odd that the older he got, the more he missed them.
He wished they could see how he and Minerva had managed to turn their finances around with investments—and without touching the gift her father had given them for their wedding. It was merely held in reserve in case it was ever needed. Otherwise, since it wasn’t part of the entailment, it would be divided among their children.
He wished they could have met Minerva, the rudder in his life. He had not thought it possible to love so thoroughly. There were times when the depth of his feelings for her scared the hell out of him. He’d hold her all the more tightly.
He wished they’d had an opportunity to know their grandchildren.
The patter of tiny feet echoed through the foyer as his son and daughter rushed to the front door, their mother following at a slower pace. She was once again with child.
“Papa, come on!” his burnished-hair daughter cried. “Grandfather promised to teach us how to pick pockets today.”
Ashe scowled at Minerva. “Thought he was going to teach them how to avoid getting their pockets picked.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “You know my father.”
He started down the steps. “I suppose you’ll teach them to cheat at cards.”
“Lovingdon’s son has already mastered it. We can’t have our children at a disadvantage.”
He slipped his arm around her. “How are you feeling?”
“Making progress. My breakfast stayed put.”
“Come oonnn!” their son lamented. “Everyone will already be there.”
All of Minerva’s siblings and their families were meeting at her parents’ residence to celebrate her parents’ wedding anniversary.
“All right then,” Ashe said. “Off we go.”
The footman opened the door, and the children rushed out.
“Our children need to master patience,” Ashe said, as he started to escort Minerva across the foyer.
“I prefer their enthusiasm.”
“Then enthusiastic they shall be.”
At the door, Ashe stopped and glanced back. Once the screams of his youth had haunted this place. But now all he heard was the laughter of his children, the joy in his wife’s voice, and love.
Author’s Note
ASHE suffered from a condition known as dyscalculia. It’s similar to dyslexia, except that it involves the concept of numbers. I first learned of this condition many years ago when a friend’s son was diagnosed with the condition. With the patient help of knowledgeable educators, he was able to learn how to work with numbers. This condition would not have been understood during Ashe’s time.
As for the Nightingale Club, it is based on the Parrot Club, a house set up in the 1850s by three ladies who wanted a place to meet and share lovers. For this story, I took the liberty of expanding its purpose and its membership.
About the Author
LORRAINE HEATH always dreamed of being a writer. After graduating from the University of Texas, she wrote training manuals, press releases, articles, and computer code, but something was always missing. When she read a romance novel, she not only became hooked on the genre, but quickly realized what her writing lacked: rebels, scoundrels, and rogues. She’s been writing about them ever since. Her work has been recognized with numerous industry awards, including RWA’s prestigious RITA®. Her novels have appeared on the USA Today and New York Times bestseller lists.
www.lorraineheath.com
www.avonromance.com
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By Lorraine Heath
FALLING INTO BED WITH A DUKE
THE DUKE AND THE LADY IN RED
ONCE MORE, MY DARLING ROGUE
WHEN THE DUKE WAS WICKED
LORD OF WICKED INTENTIONS
LORD OF TEMPTATION
SHE TEMPTS THE DUKE
WAKING UP WITH THE DUKE
PLEASURES OF A NOTORIOUS GENTLEMAN
PASSIONS OF A WICKED EARL
MIDNIGHT PLEASURES WITH A SCOUNDREL
SURRENDER TO THE DEVIL
BETWEEN THE DEVIL AND DESIRE
IN BED WITH THE DEVIL
JUS
T WICKED ENOUGH
A DUKE OF HER OWN
PROMISE ME FOREVER
A MATTER OF TEMPTATION
AS AN EARL DESIRES
AN INVITATION TO SEDUCTION
LOVE WITH A SCANDALOUS LORD
TO MARRY AN HEIRESS
THE OUTLAW AND THE LADY
NEVER MARRY A COWBOY
NEVER LOVE A COWBOY
A ROGUE IN TEXAS
Coming Soon
THE EARL TAKES ALL
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
FALLING INTO BED WITH A DUKE. Copyright © 2015 by Jan Nowasky. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition NOVEMBER 2015 ISBN: 9780062391025
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062391018
FIRST EDITION
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Falling Into Bed with a Duke (Hellions of Havisham) Page 27