by Lavinia Kent
“Well, I don’t know that I am.”
“Oh. But still you could wait and see.”
“But if I am not, I imagine I would be soon. I cannot imagine stopping what we have begun.”
Bliss blushed slightly. “Oh dear, I do understand that. No, I don’t think Duldon would have been content to go back once we…”
“Exactly. And there are other complicating factors that I do not wish to discuss.”
—
Colton stared across the room at Thorton, determined in what he must do. He nodded to the terrace door, now firmly closed against cold and wind.
Thorton shook his head. “It’s miserable out there. The wind’s been rising all day. Why do we not retire to the billiards room?”
“No, outside.”
Thorton looked as if he was about to protest, but something in Colton’s gaze must have stopped him. “Let me fetch my hat.”
“No, now.” Colton strode to the door and shoved it open, letting it rattle behind him. He did not look to see if Thorton would follow.
He stood for a moment, staring across the dark lawns down toward the lake, which twinkled under the stars. Was he really prepared to risk everything? He finally had what he wanted and imagined that he was close to giving Angela what she needed. This morning had confirmed his feelings, and he knew the words were there inside him, waiting, but this must be managed first.
He heard the crunch of Thorton’s boots behind him.
He turned. “Do you prefer swords or pistols?”
“What?”
“Do you prefer swords or pistols?”
“Have you been drinking?” He could hear the disbelief in Thorton’s tone.
“No.” He spoke as coldly as he could, although his blood still boiled with anger at what Thorton had tried to do. “When we spoke before, I had no true standing. Now Miss Ripon is my betrothed, and I will not have her name or her reputation slandered. Swords or pistols?”
“There is no need for that. Whatever threats I made are unnecessary now. Everything is as it should be; you are both following the rules. Miss Thorton will not be working to entrap another man, pretending to be what she is not.”
He curled his hands into fists. He would pound Thorton to the ground, if that would not cause further talk. “I do not think you understand me. I no longer care what you think is necessary. None of my actions have been based on what you want. Everything I have done is because it is what I want.”
Thorton looked at him with some disbelief. “If you had truly wanted to marry the girl, you would have done it earlier. Once you’ve had her on her knees, why—”
“I would suggest you stop speaking right there or we will have to wait for months before you can stand well enough to meet me at dawn.”
“Dueling is illegal, against the rules.”
“Do I look like a man who cares for rules? Or do you take back everything you have said about Miss Ripon?”
“I haven’t said anything to anybody. And what does it matter if you’re going to marry the chit?”
“It would matter to her.”
“There is no reason to for me to say anything now.”
“But do you take it back? Admit that you spoke without cause?”
Colton could see the war on Thorton’s face. He did not want to take back what he had seen, but neither was he a man who wanted a dawn meeting.
“What exactly is it that you want me to say?” Thorton asked.
Colton considered. He sensed that the man might not be willing to push a falsehood from his lips, and in truth that was not what Colton wanted. “I want you to say that Miss Ripon is a woman of fine character and any man would be proud to wed her.”
“I can’t…” Lord Thorton grew silent as he met Colton’s stare.
“I believe you will find that you can.”
Thorton remained silent, but his eyes were filled with consideration.
“Speak.”
“I do not believe you would indulge in a duel,” Thorton said at last. “That would cause speculation as surely as anything I might say.”
“I find I do not really care. Miss Ripon will be my wife regardless, and speculation will fade with time. Do not test me.”
Thorton took a step away. “Very well. Miss Ripon is a woman of fine character, and any man would be proud to wed her. As in the end you both did observe the rules, I suppose I can accept that.”
“What is it about rules that has you obsessed?” Colton asked the question that had been in his mind since the beginning. “I could have understood if you were pursuing Miss Ripon yourself and were disappointed, but I have no comprehension of why you care so much about things that do not concern you.”
Thorton’s face became absolutely still, a strange light in his eyes. “My wife and my mother both died because they did not follow the rules.” He stalked off into the dark garden.
Colton paused, ready to follow, to demand more answers. He had no idea how Thorton’s mother had died. Lady Perse might know, or he could ask his own mother. But Thorton’s wife had died in a riding accident. How could that have anything to do with rules?
Did he really want to know? No, at least not right now. All he wanted right now was to return to Angela.
Giving one last look into the dark of the garden, he turned and headed back to the house, back to his angel.
—
Angela lay in her bed, staring up at the canopy. She was happy but strangely unsatisfied—and that wasn’t even thinking about her body, which hummed with longing for Colton and his touch. It seemed that she began to long for him within minutes of his leaving. If only he’d given her some clue as to when they’d be together again. He’d said house parties were conducive to secret rendezvous, but she didn’t see how they could be together before late tomorrow afternoon. Ever since they’d announced their engagement, someone was always stopping her to say congratulations. Even when she’d tried to slip off to spend a moment alone, her mother had followed.
And Bliss wanted to walk early in the morning. She claimed that if she rose early enough, her stomach didn’t have time to give her trouble, and how could Angela say no to such a request? Then there would be lunch and a shooting competition and…
She sat up in bed as her door creaked open.
What?
Colton.
There was no mistaking that long, lean silhouette.
“How—” she began.
But held up a finger to his lips, silencing her.
He walked toward the bed, his eyes roaming over her in the moonlight.
She expected him to join her, but instead he gestured for her to rise. Slipping from the bed, she stood before him. He smiled slightly, then waved her to the window, where the light shone brightest.
Ahh, that she understood. She positioned herself with care so that the light shone through the thin linen of her shift. Raising her hands, she pressed them against the cold glass, high above her head. Without waiting for his command, she let her feet slide wide.
For a moment she just stood there, staring out into the darkness. Despite the wind, it was a beautiful night, clear and cold, the stars sparkling like a sea of diamonds.
He moved closer. She could sense him before she felt the heat of his body against hers. His lips brushed the side of her neck, gently, softly, the barest touch of flesh on flesh. His hips moved forward until she could feel him pressed long and hard between her buttocks.
A soft moan escaped.
“Didn’t you say your mother was next door, my sweet angel?” He whispered so quietly it was hard to be sure he had actually spoken.
She nodded.
“Then perhaps we will have to find something to fill your sweet lips to keep them quiet.”
With a smile she turned, letting her face come to rest against his chest. She placed a soft kiss just above his heart, wishing it were possible to say the words she had come to know deep in her soul. Another kiss. And then another, each one slightly lower.
; Her mouth watered with what she knew was coming. She tilted her chin, looking up at him, slicking her lips with moisture.
“You are an eager little angel, aren’t you?” he said again in that magical low tone. “Do you think you deserve your reward?”
One of his hands came forward, catching her between her legs, pressing the fine linen against her, his fingers sure and steady.
She had to bite down hard to keep another moan from escaping. The linen felt rough against her delicate skin, despite its fineness. His foot pressed against one of hers, pushing it wider. His fingers worked the fabric against her, the abrasion sending a thousand needles of delight through her. His other hand was at her back then, gathering up the shift until it was well above her waist.
His fingers cupped her behind, massaging and separating her cheeks. She leaned her face tight against him, burying it in his chest, as she could not hold back her very audible groan of pleasure and need.
He stopped moving instantly, his hands stilling. He pushed her from him slightly. “Now, that was very naughty, my angel. I think you may have earned a punishment—at the very least you must now finish your task before you get your reward.” He placed a hand upon her shoulder and gently pushed her down.
As she slid down to her knees, Angela wanted to tell him that this was no task; it was as much a reward as anything else. She blew softly against his flap, seeing him jerk and grow.
Looking up for permission, she reached for the buttons and released him, so thick and heavy. With one finger she traced the vein that ran along the underside of his cock, before reaching with her tongue to taste the single drop of fluid that clung to the end.
Her lips parted and she slid her mouth forward, taking him inch by inch, reaching forward until breathing was almost impossible. She pulled back and then slid forward again. This time when she pulled back, she looked up, seeing the strain and effort on his face. His lips were tight and pressed together.
He was having as much trouble suppressing a moan as she had. She sucked her lips tighter, drawing him as deep as she could, feeling the pressure on the back of her throat. Her tongue flicked along the underside, each movement causing his whole body to jerk.
There was such power in this—and such pleasure.
His hands tangled in her hair as he forced her to his pace, speeding and slowing. She gave control willingly; his pleasure was her pleasure.
He tensed suddenly and she thought the moment had come, but then abruptly she found herself lifted to standing and turned. Her breasts pressed against the window as his hand squeezed a nipple tight. It was all she could do not to cry out as he twisted lightly at the peak, still swollen from this morning. The pain zapped down between her legs, just as a hand wrapped about her, the fingers again seeking and finding that perfect spot between her legs.
Her shift was raised again. She felt him behind—and then he was in her, filling her, stretching flesh still tender from the first time. She bit down as he pounded hard, pushing her with some force against the cold glass. The ache in her core ebbed for the briefest of moments and then grew tenfold. She tilted her hips, wanting more, needing more.
“Do you think anybody’s out there, looking up?” he whispered.
Could there be? She peered out into the darkness, her mind filled with the image of what she must look like pressed tight against the window, her white shift so thin it hid nothing and raised high to her waist—and his hand: There could be no mistaking what his hand was doing. What a sight it must be.
His fingers slipped about her clit, squeezing and releasing, even as he thrust hard into her from behind.
Her body was moving with his now, forward, back. Each thrust coiling her tighter, drawing her closer to the point where she would burst. Her breathing was fast and labored, all her energy focused on staying quiet.
Colton’s lips found the base of her neck, first nuzzling, but then his teeth pressed harder.
She was not the only one trying to smother any possible sound. His movements grew frantic, plunging deeper and deeper. His fingers stroking and squeezing her, bringing her further and further into a world of sensation. The cold of the glass against her swelling breasts. The bite of his teeth upon her neck. The fullness of his every thrust. The ache growing greater and greater.
She couldn’t take more. She couldn’t.
Only she did. He demanded and she gave.
Higher and higher she rose.
Then he plunged in deep, stilled.
“Now,” he whispered. “Come for me now.” He pulled out once, his fingers loosened—and then he thrust hard, his fingers pinching, the nails biting.
And she burst. A blur of color and wonder. Her arm rose to catch her cry, teeth biting tender flesh.
She felt him behind, felt him surge and cry silently, tension climaxing—and then the instant slowness of relaxation.
His head sank to her shoulder, his full weight resting against her, pressing her even tighter to the window. Her legs struggled to stay firm, even as she wanted to sag to the floor.
Suddenly she found herself lifted, her head against his shoulder, his strong arm beneath her bended knees. He carried her to her bed, laying her gently against the pillows and pulling the covers up to her neck. Only then did she realize how cold the room had become.
He stepped away, fastening the flap of his trousers.
She patted the bed beside her.
He shook his head. “We’ve already risked too much, but I could not resist. Knowing you are mine has, I fear, left me permanently in need. I want to mark you and scream to the world that you are mine.”
Her hand rose to the back of her neck. “I think you may have already succeeded. I will have to wear a scarf on the morrow.”
“I am sorry.”
That was blatantly not true. “I am sure you are and that it will never happen again.”
“Are you happy?”
The question took her by surprise. Looking into his eyes, she considered, giving him the best answer that she could. “Yes, I am happy. It is not perfect. I can’t deny that I want more. Oh, don’t get that look—that’s not what I—I mean more in life. Does that make any sense?”
He stepped toward her. “Yes, and I can only say I will try. I do mean to make you happy, my angel.” His hand lifted and brushed back her hair. He stared straight into her eyes. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened. A slight smile formed on his lips. “I meant it earlier, even if I was not truly ready to say it. Angela, I do love you.”
And she believed him. It was that simple. It was why she had said yes this morning and it was why she’d welcomed him tonight. He did want her to be happy. She believed that too. “If you’re not careful, you’ll make my dreams come true.”
“I am working on it. I am already thinking about a certain English spy and how to torture her to make her talk.”
That wasn’t what she’d meant either, but she could tell he knew that—and she couldn’t deny that even the thought of such torture had her body humming.
It was her turn to reach out, to brush her fingers over his lips. It was her turn to speak, to say the words. She opened her mouth—and before she could say more, a voice called through the wall. “Are you having problems sleeping, Angela? I keep thinking I hear voices in there.”
“My mother,” she whispered.
He stepped away.
She grinned and mouthed the words. “I love you.”
Colton’s eyes lit, filled with warmth and care. Then, placing a hand on his heart, he slipped from the room.
Angela stared after him for a moment, unable to hold back the smile on her lips.
“Angela?” Another call.
She slipped out of the bed, walked to the wall that joined the rooms, and called, “I am fine, Mother; just happy.”
And it was true, so very, very true.
BY LAVINIA KENT
Mastering the Marquess
Revealing Ruby (novella)
Bound by Bliss
Sarah’s
Surrender (novella)
Ravishing Ruby
Angel in Scarlet
About the Author
LAVINIA KENT is a former two-term president of the Washington Romance Writers and a four-time Romance Writers of America Golden Heart nominee. She lives in Washington, D.C., with her family and an ever-changing menagerie of pets.
Want more from Lavinia Kent?
laviniakent.com
Facebook.com/LaviniaKent
@laviniakent
The Editor’s Corner
Looking for your next book boyfriend? I think I can help you out—check out these wonderful stories from Loveswept:
Something brand-new from Loveswept debut author Lynda Aicher, The Harder He Falls. Author Ellie Cahill releases a sexy, witty new adult story called Just a Girl. The first in the Bayard Hockey series comes from Kelly Jamieson with Shut Out. New York Times bestselling author Missy Johnson steams it up with The Proposition. The third story in Cassie Mae’s LOL All About Love romantic comedy series holds true to its name: Crazy About Love. Readers will fall fast and hard and clamor for the next in Tina Wainscott’s Florida-set Falling Fast series with Falling Free. Sharon Cullen’s Highland Pride series continues with MacLean’s Passion, as Scotland’s most reckless smuggler meets his match in a beautiful spitfire who arouses a renewed sense of duty, camaraderie, and passion in him. New York Times bestselling author L. P. Dover sets hearts on fire in Defending Hayden, where a damaged football star teams up with the only woman who can take away the pain. More from Lavinia Kent’s Bound and Determined series comes in the form of Angel in Scarlet. And I hope you’ll agree that there are never too many men in kilts: Ladies, meet the Wild Highland Guardians, new from Violetta Rand in Her Highland Rogue.
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Until next month ~Happy Romance!
Gina Wachtel
Associate Publisher
Read on for a sneak peek of the next intoxicating, erotic historical romance in Lavinia Kent’s Bound and Determined series