“Soon? Soon!” Angelina repeated incredulously. “We have known each other but two and a half days, Alexander.”
He raised dark, slanted brows. “During which time we have come to know each other as well, I believe, if not better, than most betrothed couples of the ton do on their wedding days!”
“Oh, please do get up!” Angelina clasped his arm and attempted to pull him to his feet. Unsuccessfully. “You must rise, Xander! What will your aunt think if she comes back into the room and sees you like this?” She shot a nervous glance toward the closed door. “I do not know her terribly well as yet, but I am sure she would not think it at all the thing for the Duke of Stourbridge to be down on his knees in this undignified manner!”
Alexander tried to hold back his amusement—he really did try—but in the end he failed miserably as a bark of laughter broke free, and then another, followed by yet another.
Angelina stared down at him incredulously. “Xander, have you completely taken leave of your senses?”
“Probably.” He sobered slightly, although he could not seem to prevent the smile that still curved his lips. Something he found he did all too easily when he was in Angelina’s company. “Do you have any idea how adorable you are, Angel? How utterly, utterly unique?”
Angelina ceased trying to force him to his feet to instead stare down at him in wary—if hopeful!—disbelief. Hopeful, because she was very much afraid she had forgotten Miss Bristow’s warning completely and fallen in love with the haughty and aristocratic Duke of Stourbridge the moment he walked into that cavernous hallway two evenings ago and demanded to know what she was about, interrupting his dinner party! And she was very sure that she had fallen in love with the Alexander with whom she had made love with and to the evening before!
Could Alexander really be serious in this marriage proposal? Surely he could not, she instantly rebuked herself. A duke did not marry the daughter of a—a—
“My mother was an actress and a mistress of my father,” she announced with a challenging rise of her chin.
“I am well aware of the fact.” Alexander gave an inclination of his head as he finally rose slowly to his feet and took both of her hands into his own. “Your father, until his death, was one of my closest friends.”
Angelina swallowed hard at this mention of the dear and kind man whom had visited her often whilst he was alive. “He was not married to my mother.”
“No,” Alexander acknowledged softly. “He was unfortunately married very young, an arranged marriage to a cousin, I believe, and so was not free to marry your mother when he met her several years after that marriage had taken place.”
“He would have married my mother if he had been free,” Angel protested fiercely.
“Again, I am well aware of the fact,” Alexander assured her gently. “Angel, your family history is of little matter to me—”
“How can you say such a thing?” she gasped incredulously.
“Quite easily—when it is the truth. I admit, sending you to a school, where you were tutored in subjects most young ladies are never fully made aware of, does not give that impression but…Angel, I had no idea, until you informed me of it two days ago, that you had attended such an academy.” His expression was grim. “I had been the duke only a matter of months at the time of your father’s death, and he made his request to me to see that you were not left alone and destitute now that both your parents were dead. In my preoccupation with my new duties, I foolishly left the details of your education to my then man of business. Obviously I was not clear enough as to my wishes in the matter.” He scowled.
Angelina’s eyes were wide. “It was never your wish that I be—be schooled to become your mistress?”
“Certainly not! At least…” His hands tightened about hers. “Angel, it is now my dearest wish that you do indeed become my mistress—but only if you will first become my wife.”
She gave a quizzical frown. “You wish me to be your mistress, as well as your wife…?”
He smiled roguishly. “In the usual way of the ton, I believe I would be expected to first take a wife and then a mistress. But in you, my darling Angel, I have found both those things in one saucily seductive woman. Of course, it also helps that I love and adore you,” he added matter-of-factly.
Angelina’s eyes became even wider. “You love and adore me…?”
“To distraction,” Alexander confirmed decidedly. “From the moment I first looked at you, it would seem,” he added self-derisively. “I had not realized how empty my home was until after you had left it yesterday evening, Angel. How soulless. You have brought joy and warmth into my life, into my very household, in a way I had never imagined.” His eyes glittered darkly.
“I have…?”
He gave a rueful nod of his head. “All these years, I have thought my inability to love to be some defect in my character. That there must be a blank space where my heart should be. After you left yesterday evening, I discovered I do have a heart, after all. And that, with your going, you had taken it with you. I do love you so very much, Angel. Do you think you might ever come to love me in return?”
“Miss Bristow advised against any of us falling in love with our protectors—”
“And, in the normal course of things, Miss Bristow was wise to issue such a warning.” He nodded abruptly. “But it is my dearest wish to become your husband, Angel, and not your protector. A husband you will hopefully come to love as dearly as he already loves you.”
She shook her head. “It is too late for that, Xander—”
“Never say that, Angel!” He groaned. “I will wait to make love to you again until you feel the same way about me, I swear. I will court you. Shower you with diamonds. Angel, I cannot bear it if you do not one day come to love me in the same way that I already love you—”
“By all means, court me and shower me with diamonds if you feel you must, darling Xander,” she acknowledged happily. “But abstinence from our lovemaking is going too far!”
His expression softened slightly. “Then I will make love to and with you day and night until you fall in love with me,” he vowed fiercely.
“Make love to me day and night by all means, my darling, but when I said it was already too late to hope that I might one day come to love you, I simply meant it was too late because I already do love you! From that very first moment, too, I believe,” Angelina assured softly. “I had not expected the Duke of Stourbridge to be so young. So tall. Or so arrogantly, wonderfully handsome. His features and body so—so incredibly and magnificently formed! Or his lovemaking ecstasy beyond my wildest dreams! I already love you so very much, Xander,” she repeated quietly.
“My darling!” Joy lit up the previously austere lines of Alexander’s face.
Angelina placed her hands upon his chest as he would have taken her in his arms. “Xander, a duke cannot marry the daughter of a woman who was both an—an actress and a—”
“This duke can certainly marry whom he damn well pleases!” he stated with all the arrogance of that duke, his expression once again softening as he saw how apprehensive his beloved still looked. “Please say you will marry me, Angel. I cannot bear even the thought of living another day without knowing you are to be mine forever!” he admitted gruffly.
Could she? Could Angelina Hawkins, the illegitimate daughter of an actress and a lord, really marry a duke? No, that was not the question. The question was, how could she not marry Alexander, duke or otherwise, when he asked her, when he proclaimed his love for her, when he said he adored her and could not bear to live without her?
Her eyes glowed and her cheeks felt warm. “I do love you so very much, Xander.”
“And…?”
She smiled up at him lovingly. “And I did so enjoy our lovemaking yesterday evening.”
His eyes glittered with the same remembered enjoyment. “And…?”
“And if you are really sure that you want me—”
“Angel, I have never been surer of anything i
n my so-far jaded existence!” he vowed fiercely.
“Then, my love, my darling Xander, I wholeheartedly accept your proposal of marriage!”
“Angel!” Alexander drew her into his arms and pulled her down onto the chaise beside him before his mouth claimed hers.
“Your aunt…?” Angelina reminded worriedly as those kisses threatened to spiral into another bout of lovemaking.
Alexander stood to cross the room and turn the key in the lock. “Has plenty of other salons in which she might receive her afternoon guests,” he assured dismissively as he returned to her side.
Clothes were discarded. Murmurs and ecstatic sighs followed. A gasp as Alexander thrust into Angel to claim her. A soft and muffled scream minutes later as Angel’s pleasure reached its satisfying peak. Quickly followed by Alexander’s own achingly ecstatic groans as those inner quakes and spasms caused him to spill himself deep inside her.
“I believe Hawk to be a fitting name for our first son,” Angel murmured sometime later as she lay still naked and deeply sated in Alexander’s arms. “In order that my own name is not lost completely.”
“Whatever you wish, my darl—First son?” Alexander echoed as he sat up slightly in order that he might look down at her. “How many sons are you planning on giving me?” he prompted indulgently, knowing that he could deny this woman nothing. That she did, indeed, hold the whole of his heart in her tiny hands.
“Oh, at least two, possibly three,” his Angel assured him lightly.
“As long as we also have a daughter, or two, with your beauty, golden curls and determined nature,” Alexander murmured with satisfaction. “Although I think I would prefer that they not attend Miss Bristow’s school in Brighton!” he added dryly.
“I have so far heard no complaints from you concerning my own tutelage,” Angelina teased huskily.
“And neither will you,” Alexander assured warmly. “In fact, I am already looking forward to sharing the revelations of your next lesson!”
Angelina laughed softly. “We have only just begun, my darling,” she promised warmly.
Alexander gazed down at her adoringly, utterly sure of his love for this warm and wonderful woman. Knowing that, with her, each day together would be a joy, each night a revelation, to be savored and cherished for as long as the two of them lived.…
Dear Reader
Welcome to the sensual and exciting world of The Notorious St. Claires!
Angelina and Alexander’s love story, as the matriarch and patriarch of the St. Claire family, is where the story all began and it was great fun matching wits between these two strong-willed lovers.
September will see the publication of my full-length story, THE DUKE’S CINDERELLA BRIDE, in Harlequin Historical in which Angelina and Alexander’s aristocratically haughty eldest son Hawk more than meets his match in the beautiful and unconventional Jane Smith. This will be followed with the stories of his three rebellious siblings.
I hope you enjoy Angelina and Alexander’s love story, and that you will look out for The Notorious St. Claires quartet!
Be sure not to miss any of Carole’s exciting series, The Notorious St. Claires, only available in Harlequin Historical!
September 2009–THE DUKE’S CINDERELLA BRIDE
November 2009–THE RAKE’S WICKED PROPOSAL
January 2010–THE ROGUE’S DISGRACED LADY
March 2010–Arabella’s story
Enjoy more passion through the ages with the sensual Harlequin Historical UNDONE titles on sale now:
HIS SILKEN SEDUCTION by Joanna Maitland
A NIGHT FOR HER PLEASURE by Terri Brisbin
DISROBED AND DISHONORED by Louise Allen
THE UNLACING OF MISS LEIGH by Diane Gaston
A NIGHT OF WICKED DELIGHT by Joanne Rock
PLEASURED BY THE ENGLISH SPY by Bronwyn Scott
THE RAKE’S INTIMATE ENCOUNTER by Ann Lethbridge
NOTORIOUS LORD, COMPROMISED MISS by Annie Burrows
THE UNMASKING OF LADY LOVELESS by Nicola Cornick
LIBERTINE LORD, PICKPOCKET MISS by Bronwyn Scott
THE VIKING’S FORBIDDEN LOVE-SLAVE by Michelle Willingham
SHIPWRECKED AND SEDUCED by Amanda McCabe
Craving something a little longer? Find more historical romantic adventure from Harlequin Historical at www.eHarlequin.com or your local bookstore.
Interested in writing for Harlequin Historical UNDONE? Send your submission to [email protected].
Carole Mortimer was born in England, the youngest of three children. She began writing in 1978, and has now written over one hundred and forty books for Harlequin Mills and Boon®. Carole has six sons, Matthew, Joshua, Timothy, Michael, David and Peter. She says, ‘I’m happily married to Peter senior; we’re best friends as well as lovers, which is probably the best recipe for a successful relationship. We live in a lovely part of England.’
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3858-3
At the Duke’s Service
Copyright © 2009 by Carole Mortimer
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