by Amelia Grey
Esmeralda’s head fell back, and her chest arched forward. Her breasts tightened with anticipation of more to come. His tongue circled her nipple, bathed it, and then gently drew it fully into his mouth again. A thousand sensations blossomed inside her, and her senses reeled in delight.
While his mouth tugged on her breasts, his hand slipped down her hip between her legs, and he cupped her. The feeling was warm and strangely comforting. His fingers found the intimate place between her legs. She swallowed and moaned with pleasure.
The gentle, gliding movements created even more desires and feelings she couldn’t explain and couldn’t control. She rose up and wound her arms around Griffin’s neck, burying her face into his shoulder and, hugging him to her, she gave herself up to the exquisite feelings spiraling through her as waves of explosive sensations tore through her womanly core, robbing her of breath before fading into pleasant, languid ripples.
“Griffin,” she whispered before collapsing back down onto the bed with no breath left in her lungs, no strength in her bones.
“That is what loving is supposed to feel like,” he whispered against her ear.
Griffin fitted his body between her legs and nestled his manhood against her as he covered her mouth with his. His kissed ravenously, gently pushing his body against hers, over and over again. He brought his tongue down the long sweep of her neck, tasting her, devouring her with more eager kisses and caresses.
Esmeralda gasped softly from the constant pushing of his body. She trembled and twisted beneath him. Her hands combed over the solid wall of his back, hips, and buttocks. Her lips kissed the heated skin of his shoulders.
“It’s all right?” he whispered against her lips.
“Yes,” she answered. It was all right.
When at last he’d fully entered her, he whispered her name and kissed her softly.
Griffin made love to her with a tenderness that overwhelmed her. His movements were slow, sensual, and reverent. He kissed her, stroked her body, and moved gently on top of her. That same indescribable pleasure she’d felt before kept mounting and caused her to join the rhythm of his hips meeting hers.
The delicious sensations continued when his movements changed to long, sure strokes that grew stronger, fuller, until with breathless wonder all the sensations in her body exploded once again.
Griffin’s breath quickened. His body shuddered as he slid his arms under her back and hugged her to him. Esmeralda relaxed on a contented sigh. Moments later, his rough breathing slowed and he rolled to his side facing her and pulled up the sheet.
They lay there side by side, not moving. For how long, she had no idea. It was just comforting having him beside her. She was too filled with the wonder of everything she’d experienced to want to move. If anyone had tried to tell her how magical it was to lie with a man, she couldn’t have comprehended what they were saying.
“You’ll have to tell her,” Griffin said into the darkness. “You know that, don’t you?”
Esmeralda tensed. About us? About tonight? “Tell Josephine what?” she asked.
“The real story about her mother, your family, and her father.”
“No,” she said unequivocally.
He raised up on his elbow and placed a short kiss on her lips. “Yes. She will have to know everything that you know. Not now. She’s still young, but in time you will have to tell her. You can’t keep it from her.”
“In time,” she said and looked past him out the small window. “Maybe.”
“She will ask you one day.”
Esmeralda knew he was right—again—but that was another one of those things she didn’t want to think about tonight.
“I still want to get Napoleon back for her.”
“But you won’t.”
“No.”
“Look at me,” he said. With the tips of his fingers under her chin, he turned her face toward him. “I should have allowed you to explain everything that happened yesterday.”
“Is that an apology?”
He smiled. “I only learned this morning that you’d asked Mr. Lambert to leave and thought he had. You didn’t know he’d returned.”
It didn’t matter. She was no longer a part of his household.
“I don’t want to talk about that, Griffin. It will serve no purpose.”
“It will for me.”
She looked at his broad shoulders and wanted to touch him again. “You,” she mumbled softly. “This is why I don’t like peers. It’s always about what you want. It never matters what others want. I have enough to deal with concerning Josephine and the agency, and your feelings about what happened aren’t high on my list right now.”
He gave her a lopsided smile that made her heart start spinning.
“After what just happened between us? After what you felt and I felt, you’re still miffed with me?”
Was she?
“Perhaps I am,” she admitted honestly.
“Are you going to forgive me for making a human mistake yesterday or are you going to hold it against me the rest of my life?”
Didn’t he know he wouldn’t be in her bed if she hadn’t already forgiven him?
“I don’t know,” she said as she reached over and kissed the crook of his neck.
His arm went around her shoulders. “It’s partly your fault, you know.”
“And why is that?”
“You should have interrupted me and told me to stop ranting about Sara and Lambert because someone had come and taken Napoleon away from Josephine.”
“You were already too angry.”
“I was rash.”
“You were being a beast.”
“I talked before I had all the facts.”
“You didn’t want to listen.”
He chuckled as his hand traced the line of her shoulder and down her arm to the plane of her hip. “You really have a low opinion of me, don’t you?”
“Peers in general,” she admitted honestly. “Though, I have to say that when I first went into your employ, you were kinder than I thought you would be.”
“But then yesterday I acted just the way you expected me to, didn’t I?”
“I knew you would eventually show your true self. And you did. You overreacted.”
“I talked before I had all the facts,” he repeated.
“You wouldn’t have listened anyway.”
All of a sudden, he rolled her over onto her back and propped himself on his elbows as he settled his body between her legs. “I’m afraid what I’m going to tell you now will not change your opinion of me, but I’m going to say it anyway because you are right. I do like to get my way. I do intend to get my way. I’m going to marry you, Esmeralda.”
A tremor shook her. “What?” She tried to rise, but he remained solidly on top of her.
“Lie back down,” he said softly. “You heard me. I’m going to marry you. I’m in love with you, Esmeralda. You’re the one I want. And you’re going to be my wife.”
You’re the one I want. You’re going to be my wife.
She was breathless. “You don’t mean that.”
“I would have never made love to you just now if I hadn’t already made up my mind that I wanted you for my wife.”
Esmeralda felt as if her heart were going to spin out of her chest. “I don’t know what to say.”
He looked deeply into her eyes and then kissed her so tenderly she felt all her bones turn liquid beneath him. “You must say yes. Didn’t I just tell you that I love you? You are mine and I’m not going to let anyone else have you, so get used to being told what to do.”
“I will never stand for that.”
“Good.” His hand molded over the fullness of her breast. “I will have a pleasurable time trying to bend you to my will. You and Josephine belong with me in my house as my wife and sister. Not as a member of my staff but as my equal. All you have to do is say yes.”
“Don’t you want to know if I love you?” she asked breathlessly as she slid her hands
down his sides.
He smiled. “I already know that you do, but it would be nice to hear you say it.”
Esmeralda swallowed past the lump in her throat and whispered, “Griffin, I love you, and yes, I’ll marry you.”
My Dear Readers:
London may never be the same. One of our favorite bachelors to write about has just been taken off the marriage mart. All in Polite Society expected the Duke of Griffin’s sisters, Lady Sara and Lady Vera, to be betrothed by the end of the Season, but no one expected the duke to be posting the banns for himself. He will be the first of the notorious Rakes of St. James to wed. The Duke of Griffin has made his intentions known, and the maiden who made the prized catch is Miss Esmeralda Swift. She and the duke will say nuptials in a private ceremony at his Mayfair home.
MISS HONORA TRUTH’S WEEKLY SCANDAL SHEET
Epilogue
Do remember that all is well when all ends well.
MISS MAMIE FORTESCUE’S DO’S AND DON’TS FOR CHAPERONES, GOVERNESSES, TUTORS, AND NURSES
Griffin strode into his Mayfair house whipping off his hat. He laid the copy of a book of poetry, The Quarterly Review, and Blackwood’s Magazine on the table, then removed his cloak and gloves.
“Esmeralda,” he called. “Josephine?”
“Her Grace and Miss Josephine are in the garden,” Sparks said, coming to Griffin with his cloak.
“Thank you, Sparks. So, she’s going into the garden again?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
That was a good sign. When Esmeralda and Josephine first moved back to Mayfair, Josephine wouldn’t go anywhere near the garden. He knew it reminded her of Napoleon.
He looked out the window and saw Esmeralda sitting on a bench. She wore a soft shade of pink and the single strand of pearls he’d given her for a wedding present. A contentedness he didn’t know was possible filled him. Josephine was looking at the flowers. The May Day Flower Fair was tomorrow. Fenton would be displaying his Persian irises, looking to win again. The gardener had asked them to go with him.
Esmeralda turned to look when she heard the back door open. She smiled and so did he. Josephine paid him no mind. He figured she was staring at the flowers, but it might have been another frog.
Holding the book and the magazines behind his back, he strode through the damp grass to Esmeralda and bent down to kiss her.
“That was a pleasant way to be greeted,” she said.
“Then I’ll make a habit of it.”
“I don’t think that would make Lady Evelyn happy. She is a stickler for doing everything the proper way.”
“I’m glad to see Josephine is out in the garden.”
Esmeralda glanced over at her sister and nodded. “She’ll let us know when she’s ready for another dog.”
“In the meantime,” Griffin said, “I have something to show you that I want to give her today. From behind his back he pulled his offerings. “This a book of Myles Graham’s poetry—it has every poem of his I could find.”
Surprise glinted in her eyes as she took it and looked it over. “Where did you get this? He never had anything published in a book.”
“I had it published for him. I’ve heard that books published posthumously usually sell very well.”
“This is for sale?”
He smiled. “At every book shop in London, and most of England and Ireland as well.”
“I—I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I see happiness in your lovely eyes and your face.”
“I am. I’m amazed, thrilled. But why?”
“I did it for Josephine. She didn’t want me to get Napoleon back for her, and I admit I’m glad she didn’t. It would have been difficult to take him away from another girl, but I would have bought her a horse or paid for her and her family to go on a grand tour or whatever she wanted if Josephine had wanted me to.”
Esmeralda smiled and covered his hand with hers. “I know that.”
“She made a selfless decision. I wanted to do something for her. I asked her if she had copies of her father’s poems. That I’d like to read them. She said she had a copy of all of them. I admit I haven’t read them yet. I immediately took them to a publishing company and paid to have them published.” He picked up the magazines. “Two well-respected journals have reviewed it, and while they aren’t glowing, they aren’t terrible. Seems his poetry has gotten better with age.”
Her eyes sparkled with tears. “Griffin, she will be thrilled. To have all of his poetry in one collection of his works. I don’t know what to say, but thank you.” She reached up kissed him.
“Esmeralda.” Josephine came running up, and they broke apart. She was holding a bouquet of purple Persian irises in her hand.
Griffin stiffened. “Josephine,” he asked. “Where did you get those flowers?”
“From right over there in the garden. Essie told me these are her favorites. I’ve been watching. Mr. Fenton takes very good care of them. And I knew it was the perfect day to pick them.”
Fenton was going to faint.
“Josephine, you know you aren’t supposed to pick any of the flowers in this garden,” Esmeralda admonished.
“Why? His Grace told me this was my home now too. If it’s my home, why can’t I pick the flowers? I know you like them.” She suddenly beamed with a smile. “They bloomed on your birthday.”
Griffin looked at Esmeralda. “I didn’t know it was your birthday.”
“Sometimes I don’t remember it myself.”
“Picking those flowers was a lovely way to remember your sister on her birthday,” he said to Josephine.
“I’m going to put these in water and bring them back to you,” Josephine said as she ran off.
“I’m afraid I don’t have a present for you, so I’m glad Josephine got you one.”
“You gave me the best present you could have chosen. This book of poetry for Josephine.”
“Should we wait until her birthday to show her these?”
“It’s not for several months yet. I think we should do it when she gets back. Thank you for being so kind to Josephine.”
“She is my sister. I will take care of her.” He looked around to the garden where the blooms had been broken off the stalks of the Persian irises. He just hoped Fenton would forgive her. “And I will take care of you, my love.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her again.
“I don’t think this is wise. Lady Evelyn or one of your sisters could be watching from a window.”
“My aunt is probably napping and the twins are probably in the midst of an argument about Sara’s wedding to Lambert.”
She laughed. “I love you, Griffin. More and more each day.”
“And I love you,” he whispered and kissed his wife again.
Don’t forget to smile.
MISS MAMIE FORTESCUE’S DO’S AND DON’TS FOR CHAPERONES, GOVERNESSES, TUTORS, AND NURSES
Dear Reader,
I hope you have enjoyed the first book in The Rakes of St. James trilogy. It was my pleasure to dream up Griffin and Esmeralda’s story. I know and appreciate that most Regency authors follow as true to the traditions and history of the time period as possible in their books. Others of us will sometimes bend or reshape what we know to be the truth and the way things really were for the sake of our stories. Such is the case in my trilogy The Rakes of St. James.
There is no recorded time during the Regency where there were three young and handsome dukes all eligible for marriage in the same year. But, as I do with all my books when I begin formulating a story, I enjoy starting with the premise Wouldn’t it be wonderful if … Indeed, wouldn’t it have been wonderful if there had been three such handsome and dashing dukes for a bevy of beautiful young ladies to choose from as I have in this book?
Please watch for the next two books in The Rakes of St. James trilogy.
I love to hear from readers. Please email me at [email protected] or follow me on Facebook at AmeliaGreybooks/Fac
ebook.com or on my website at ameliagrey.com.
Happy reading,
Amelia Grey
Coming soon…
Look for the next novel in the Rakes of St. James series from New York Times bestselling author
AMELIA GREY
To THE Duke, with Love
Available in December 2017 from St. Martin’s Paperbacks
Also by Amelia Grey
Wedding Night with the Earl
The Duke in My Bed
The Earl Claims a Bride
Praise for New York Times
and USA Today bestselling author
AMELIA GREY
and her acclaimed novels …
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—Library Journal
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—Night Owl Romance Reviewer Top Pick
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Amelia Grey read her first romance book when she was thirteen and she’s been a devoted reader of love stories ever since. Her awards include the Booksellers Best, Aspen Gold, and the Golden Quill. Writing as Gloria Dale Skinner, she won the coveted Romantic Times Award for Love and Laughter and the prestigious Maggie Award. Her books have sold to many countries in Europe, Indonesia, Turkey, Russia, and most recently to Japan. Several of her books have also been featured in Doubleday and Rhapsody Book Clubs. Amelia is the author of twenty-five books. She’s been happily married to her high school sweetheart for over thirty-five years and she lives on the beautiful gulf coast of Northwest Florida. Visit her at: www.ameliagrey.com, or sign up for email updates here.