This, then, was what she had been told to expect. She took a deep breath, calming her breathing, attempting to relax, and suddenly—
“Odette?”
She stared up at him, eyes wide. It had not hurt, at least nothing more than a little pinching sensation, but now…. It was an odd feeling, so strange, so full, so….
“Odette?” Chance’s voice was anxious, his body quivering with tension above her. “Love?”
“Oui, I’m fine, it’s all right… don’t stop.”
He let out a ragged breath, his relief so obvious that she giggled. His blue eyes met hers, amusement and happiness shining there.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Non. Ah, non, mon beau, never that. It is only that you are so wonderful. You take such care of me.”
“I always will,” he whispered, and then he was kissing her, and moving inside her, and his hands were caressing her and… Oh.
The intimacy of it, the rightness of being here with this man, her husband, was astonishing. Tears pricked at her eyes as the perfection of it overwhelmed her, so much so that she was almost afraid it would be spoiled somehow, but she trusted in him to guide her, and followed where he led.
Even so, it was a shock, albeit a delicious one, as the pleasure gathered inside her, an urgent, frantic sensation building up and up until she hardly knew what to do with herself. It was at once too much and not enough, and she almost shouted at him to help her before she went mad, but then she was flying apart. Something bright and lovely exploded inside her, shattering into a million pieces. She cried out and her body jerked and shuddered, out of control as she was fragmented and thrown into the heavens. The strangest thing, though, was that as she came back to herself, she was no longer an odd collection of pieces, there was nothing broken or missing, only rearranged… complete for the first time in her life.
She held him as the pleasure took him too, sliding her palms over passion-dampened skin and knowing she would never forget the sound of his release, the way he called her name, the way he told her he loved her.
As his breathing steadied, he stared down at her. Odette met his gaze. She put her hand to his cheek, knowing full well her heart was in her eyes.
“J’taime, Chance. I love you too.”
Epilogue
“Wherein a Christmas tradition.”
20thDecember 1822. Ivy Cottage. Devon.
“Must we really leave?” Chance grumbled, pulling the covers up about them and tugging Odette closer. He spooned around her back, one hand settling over her burgeoning stomach.
“You know very well we must, and don’t pretend you don’t want to go. You adore Christmas at Blackdown.”
Chance chucked and kissed her shoulder. “What, all my six sisters in one place with their dreadful children and husbands? Good heavens. Whatever gave you such a fanciful notion?”
“Well, you’ve been counting the days since November,” she said dryly. “That was my first clue.”
He harrumphed but did not argue the point. They both loved Christmas at the castle, complete with chaotic family. It was strange how Odette had once seen Blackdown as being cold and frightening, when now the sight of the big old place coming into view gave her a burst of happiness, a sense of coming home. Not that they didn’t have their own home, too. They had chosen one of Chance’s smaller properties to make their own, and had rebuilt it extensively. It was wholly theirs, their joint project, and they loved it dearly. They had travelled a lot in the first years of their marriage, just as Chance had promised, until Odette had fallen pregnant, and then she had not been sorry to go home, too excited by the prospect of their baby to think of much else. Coming home to the castle, though, that was special too. Chance adored seeing his sisters and had become especially close to his half-sister, Marie.
They shared their father’s blue eyes and were obviously siblings, bickering amicably and involving all their sisters in their ridiculous arguments. They quite obviously adored each other’s company and saw each other as often as was possible. They looked forward to Christmas most of all, though, as they shared it with Lord and Lady Blackdown, whose happiness in seeing them all was bright and honest on each occasion.
“Father will spoil Oliver rotten again,” Chance grumbled. “He’s a very different grandfather than a father. I never got treated that way, I can assure you.”
Odette turned to face him, a complex manoeuvre, as her large stomach hindered her progress.
“He’s mellowed,” she said, reaching up to stroke her husband’s face. “And he’s so proud of you, mon beau. Of you and Oliver. It shines from him. Haven’t you noticed he drives your poor brothers-in-law distracted, forever retelling stories of your heroics during the war? They can’t possibly live up to your legend.”
Chance frowned over that. “He does do that, doesn’t he? Do you know, I didn’t even realise he knew those stories, that he had followed my career? He was always so angry with me for going.”
“Because he was afraid of losing you.”
“I thought it was just the title,” he admitted, shaking his head. “For such a long time I thought that was all he cared about, but now, seeing him with our son….”
“He finds it hard to say things aloud, Chance, that is all. You must read between the lines. Or, failing that, ask your mother.”
“Or you,” he said, nuzzling into her neck.
Odette shivered as his lips feathered kisses over her skin.
“Or me,” she agreed, closing her eyes and smiling.
“It is lovely here, though,” he murmured. “And I shall be sorry to leave.”
“It is.”
It had become their tradition to return to Ivy Cottage for a week before going to the castle for Christmas. This was where they had spent the first blissful week of their marriage, and every year they added to the memories. They came in the summer, too, as Chance had done when he was a boy. This year he had begun to teach three-year-old Oliver to swim, much to both of their delight.
“Perhaps we should come back here after Christmas, too,” Chance murmured, stroking a lazy hand over the curve of her stomach. “Once we return home, you’ll be swept up in a whirl of activity, and the house will be full to the brim with your friends from morning till night. I think I shall be a masterful and cruel husband, and insist on having you all to myself for another week.”
“Indeed, how cruel you are, monseigneur,” she sighed, knowing why he was doing it. He didn’t mind a bit if her friends came, he only fretted that she was doing too much, that she was tired, and he wasn’t entirely wrong so she would not fight him over it. “But I am a good, biddable wife, and so I shall do as I am told.”
There was a snort of such amusement that Odette felt compelled to smack his hand.
“Devil,” she said, laughing.
“Biddable,” he crowed, the bed shaking with his mirth. “Oh, I shall have to share that one with Father. He worships the ground you walk on, but even he wouldn’t have that.”
“I am most biddable, providing you bid me to do something I believe to be a good idea,” she retorted with a dignified little sniff. “There’s no sense in being foolish about it.”
“No, dear,” he soothed. “None at all.”
His hand crept up from her stomach to cup her breast, so much fuller now with her pregnancy in full bloom.
“Mmm,” he murmured, turning her back over so his chest was to her back. “I do like these. Such a bounteous gift.”
Odette huffed, but did not protest in the least.
“I wonder you can bear to look at me. I’m the size of a whale this time,” she said, her tone light, though there was the tiniest thread of truth behind her words.
Chance stilled, and then pushed himself up on his elbow, staring down at her. She glanced back at him as he smoothed the hair from her face to get a better look at her.
“What nonsense is this?” he asked. “Do you still not understand how besotted I am, wife? I fell headlong into love with
you the moment you peeked around the pantry door at Corry Brook Farm. Indeed, I fell so hard, it’s a wonder I don’t have a concussion still. You are everything I never dreamed of, everything I had no idea I even wanted.”
She laughed at that and he grinned.
“It’s true. I could never have dreamed something as lovely as you. I’ve not the imagination to create someone half so wonderful. You are my friend, my lover, my wife, mother to my children, and keeper of my heart. I love you like this,” he said, placing his hand on her stomach. “And in all your beautiful guises. You may rely on that.”
Odette blinked away tears as he settled back down beside her.
“J’taime.”
“I know,” he said, sounding smug.
She smiled and closed her eyes, listening to the waves crashing on the shore beyond the cottage garden.
“There’s quite a storm out there tonight.”
Chance nodded. “A snowstorm.”
She turned her head to look at him. “Truly?”
“Yes. I looked out before I came to bed, the world is white and pristine, just like the day I took refuge in an abandoned farmhouse. I remember waking beside you, listening to the wild melody of the storm outside.”
“A melody?” she said doubtfully as the wind howled about the walls of the cottage.
Chance nodded, trailing his lips over her shoulder.
“Mm-hm. When I am warm in a bed with you, and my heart is at peace, the rest of the world can rage and go to the devil, and all I hear is a melody. I heard it the first time I woke with you. My word, I was in agony. Did you know that? I was so desperate to act the gentleman, but I wanted you so badly.”
“I wanted you too,” she said, pleased by the way his eyes darkened.
“Yes, I know. I remember the look in your eyes.”
“Just like this.” She lifted her hand to trace a finger over his eyelid and he laughed.
“I expect so. I wanted to tumble you onto that mattress and make you mine, there and then, and instead I had to run out into the snow and take matters into my own hands,” he said ruefully.
Odette laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks.
Chance snorted. “It wasn’t funny at the time I assure you. I suffered agonies.”
“Oh,” she managed, chest heaving. “Oh, my… my poor Charlie.”
He grinned at the name, one she had kept to use when they were alone, to remind them of those first days together.
“I’ll let you make it up to me,” he said, his voice low and a wicked glint in his blue eyes.
“Ah, yes. You did teach me how to please you, after all. I suppose I ought not let your lessons go to waste.”
“That would be a crying shame.”
She snorted at the gravity of his words.
“Still, I shall make allowances for your….”
“Bulk?” she offered, one dark eyebrow quirked.
“Delicate condition,” he corrected, making her splutter again as he pressed his hips closer, his shaft hot and hard against the cleft of her bottom. “In the circumstances, I shall do all the hard work.”
“What an excellent husband you are,” she sighed as his hand drifted to the dark curls between her thighs.
“A paragon among men,” he agreed.
Odette closed her eyes and gave herself into her husband’s care, safe and beloved, and very well satisfied with her lot, and outside the wild melody of the wind howled across the countryside.
Looking for more Christmas fun? Check out my Christmas Regency Romance tale
The Girl is Not for Christmas
Miss Olivia Penrose is a lost cause and she knows it. She is just too stubborn to admit defeat.
After a series of disastrous investments, her family is on the brink of bankruptcy. Now, Olivia is the only thing standing between her brother Charlie’s rapidly growing family and penury. Olivia has one chance to capture the eye of a wealthy man and marry well. Her great aunt’s lavish New Year ball. Between now and then, Livvy must transform herself from who she is, into a woman who can drive a respectable fellow mad with desire. An impossible task.
Ever practical, she knows there is only one man who can help with her transformation
The notorious Earl of Kingston, dubbed the King of Sin by the scandal sheets, is recovering from the toll taken by his immoral lifestyle. With his own financial and private affairs in a mess, King escapes London to stay with his old friend Charlie for Christmas.
When his friend’s odd little sister demands his helps to learn the art of seduction, King is at once horrified, intrigued, and too bloody wicked to refuse.
Before the holiday is over, King is in way over his head, and must persuade Livvy that the King of Sin is dead, and he’s the man she needs.
Always free to read with Kindle Unlimited
The Girl is Not for Christmas
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About Me!
I started this incredible journey way back in 2010 with The Key to Erebus but didn’t summon the courage to hit publish until October 2012. For anyone who’s done it, you’ll know publishing your first title is a terribly scary thing! I still get butterflies on the morning a new title releases but the terror has subsided at least. Now I just live in dread of the day my daughters are old enough to read them.
The horror! (On both sides I suspect.)
2017 marked the year that I made my first foray into Historical Romance and the world of the Regency Romance, and my word what a year! I was delighted by the response to this series and can’t wait to add more titles. Paranormal Romance readers need not despair however as there is much more to come there too. Writing has become an addiction and as soon as one book is over I’m hugely excited to start the next so you can expect plenty more in the future.
As many of my works reflect I am greatly influenced by the beautiful French countryside in which I live. I’ve been here in the South West for the past twenty years though I was born and raised in England. My three gorgeous girls are all bilingual and the youngest who is only six, is showing signs of following in my footsteps after producing The Lonely Princess all by herself.
I’m told book two is coming soon ...
She’s keeping me on my toes, so I’d better get cracking!
KEEP READING TO DISCOVER MY OTHER BOOKS!
Other Works by Emma V. Leech
(For those of you who have read The French Fae Legend series, please remember that chronologically The Heart of Arima precedes The Dark Prince)
Rogues & Gentlemen
The Rogue
The Earl’s Temptation
Scandal’s Daughter
The Devil May Care
Nearly Ruining Mr. Russell
Winter’s Wild Melody (A Christmas Novella)
One Wicked Winter
To Tame a Savage Heart
Persuading Patience
The Last Man in London
Flaming June
Charity and the Devil
A Slight Indiscretion
The Corinthian Duke
The Blackest of Hearts
Duke and Duplicity
The Scent of Scandal
Melting Miss Wynter
The Winter Bride, a novella
The Rogue and The Earl’s Temptation Boxset
The Regency
Romance Mysteries
Dying for a Duke
A Dog in a Doublet
The Rum and the Fox
Girls Who Dare
To Dare a Duke
To Steal A Kiss
To Break the Rules
To Follow Her Heart
To Wager with Love
To Dance with a Devil
To Winter at Wildsyde
To Experiment with Desire
To Ride with the Knight
To Hunt the Hunter
To Dance until Dawn
Daring Daughters
Dare to be Wicked (February 19, 2021)
Stand Alone
The Girl is Not for Christmas (A Regency Christmas)
The Book Lover (a paranormal novella)
Audio Books!
Don’t have time to read but still need your romance fix? The wait is over…
By popular demand, get your favourite Emma V Leech Regency Romance books on audio at Audible as performed by the incomparable Philip Battley and Gerard Marzilli. Several titles available and more added each month!
Click the links to choose your favourite and start listening now.
Rogues & Gentlemen
The Rogue ***
The Earl’s Tempation
Scandal's Daughter
The Devil May Care
Nearly Ruining Mr Russell
One Wicked Winter ***
To Tame a Savage Heart ***
Persuading Patience
The Last Man in London
Flaming June ***
The Winter Bride, a novella ***
Girls Who Dare
To Dare a Duke
To Steal A Kiss ***
To Break the Rules ***
To Follow her Heart
The Regency Romance Mysteries
Winter's Wild Melody Page 9