How to Woo... A Reluctant Bride (7 page)

Oh, but the risk was worth it, if the last few days were any indication. She’d never been so aware of her body, of her being as a woman. Her hand drifted to her abdomen. Already she might be carrying his child in her womb. The thought of a baby to love filled her with joy.

Barefoot, she padded from the room and wandered through the hunting box. She found the small study Evan had appropriated and wandered in. He’d left a few things on the small desk and she went to investigate.

When she picked up the book she’d occasionally caught him reading, two pieces of paper fell out on the desk. Sitting, she opened the book, entitled
The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayana
. “What an odd title,” she murmured as she began leafing through it.

* * *

When Evan awoke, Lydia was gone as was his pajama top. He grinned at the thought of her wearing it, her shapely legs showing.

Jumping out of bed, he donned his pajama bottoms and went in search of her. She was in the study, standing at the window, staring out at the garden. She looked adorable wearing nothing but his pajama top, exposing her long legs. “Good morning, love.”

He moved beside her, slipped his arms around her waist, and kissed her neck. She stood stiffly, not responding.

“Is something wrong, Lydia?”

She turned to glare at him, her eyes narrowed. “Was it all a joke to you? Or was it a wager?”

He stared back at her perplexed. “What are you talking about?”

She gestured toward his desk. “I saw the book. And your lists.”

Pushing past him, she strode to the desk, picked up one of his papers, and read, “
‘the man should become a great friend of the brother of the girl.’”
She whirled to face him. “Harry hadn’t seen you in years. Not until you had need of a highborn bride.”

“Harry and I don’t exactly travel in the same circles, but we were friends in school,” he reminded her. “We happened to run into each other a few months ago and renewed our acquaintance.” He’d never told her it was Harry who suggested his sister Lydia when Evan said he was looking for a bride. Better to let her think it was his idea. She’d been hurt enough by her family as it was.

“I suppose I should just be glad you didn’t kidnap me, like the book recommends.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Kidnapping is against the law! Do you really think me such a barbarian?”

“After reading all this, I do not know what to think, except you’ve been making love to me, using this book.” She picked up the
Kama Sutra,
which had been left lying open. “It’s all right here. The first time we had ‘congress’ it was the ‘widely opened position.’ At other times it was the ‘clasping’ or ‘pressing position.’ And yesterday, outside, you made love to me like an animal!”

The last accusation made Evan wince. “I was trying to introduce some variety in our lovemaking.”

She returned to one of his lists. “That’s not all you used the book for.
‘The man should do whatever the girl takes most delight in, and he should get for her whatever she may have a desire to possess.’
That’s why you wooed me with flowers, and trips to the opera, and bought the grand piano. Can you deny it?”

“I thought it good advice,” he said, knowing how lame it sounded.

“Wasn’t it enough you’d already bought me?” Her voice rose at the end, and he saw her blinking back tears.

He stepped toward her, his hand out. “Oh, Lydia, it wasn’t like that. Yes, I wanted to please you. I knew your heart wasn’t in this marriage.” When she refused to take his hand, he dropped it to his side. “I know you got a bad bargain. I know it wasn’t fair. Won’t you give me another chance?”

She stared back at him, looking more hurt than angry.

Pain ricocheted through him at the possibility he’d ruined his chances with her. “Was my lovemaking so distasteful?”

Her eyes widened as she suddenly seemed to realize she had the power to hurt him, too. “No, not at all.” A blush suffused her face and she dropped her gaze. “I rather liked that.”

He let out a sigh of relief and pulled her into his arms, encouraged when she didn’t resist. “Good, at least I did something right. We can return the piano.”

Her head shot up. “Don’t you dare! I love the piano.”

“Then what were you so angry about?”

She bit her lower lip. “I guess I felt you’d been manipulating me from the beginning. To make me more compliant, perhaps. And using that book to do it.”

“Uncle Frederick didn’t even give me the book until the day of our engagement party. By then I feared I was already falling in love with you, and in despair of ever winning your regard.”

She froze. “What did you just say?”

“Uncle Fred—”

“Not that part. The last part.”

He gazed down at the woman in his arms. “That I was falling in love with you? Well, I was and I am.”

“Oh, Evan.” She hugged him, nestling her head on his shoulder.

“Is there any chance my love might be reciprocated some day?”

She pulled back and smiled at him. “Oh, I think there’s every chance of that happening.”

He whooped, scooped her into his arms and spun around in a circle. She was laughing when he set her back on her feet.

“I just have one question.”

“What is it, love?”

“Do you expect us to try every one of those positions? I’m not sure I can manage some of them.”

“I understand it takes a lot of practice, but we have a lifetime for that.”

She smiled at him, a teasing glint in her eye. “Then we’d better get started.”

He crushed her to him, his hands on her bum as she twined her arms around his neck. She pulled his head down and kissed him, sucking on his lower lip, then she darted her tongue into his mouth. She learned fast, his Lydia. His cock hardened and lengthened as his tongue dueled with hers.

Moving one hand to his waistband, he untied his pajamas, let them drop to the floor and stepped out of them. He broke the kiss long enough to strip his top over her head, revealing her long, lush body. “I love that you’re so tall.”

She looked surprised. “Really? I thought men preferred petite, doll-like creatures.”

He shrugged. “Some do, I suppose, but if you were shorter, we wouldn’t be able to try the Suspended Congress.”

“You mean make love standing up?”

He grinned. “I’m game to try if you are.”

She laughed and trailed her hands down his torso. His cock jerked when she took it in her hand. “Whatever you desire, husband.”

He growled and pulled her hands to his shoulders, then kissed her, hard, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, showing her what he longed to do to her body. One hand on her bum, he used the other to probe her
yoni
, finding it slick and ready. He teased the tender flesh, seeking the hard nub of her clitoris, the source of her pleasure. Using his thumb to tease it, he slipped one finger, then another inside her, stretching her inner channel. As he pressed against her flesh, moving from side to side, he felt her muscles clamp around his fingers and her hips bucked into his hand. He eased his fingers from inside her and caressed her pussy.

“Ready?” His voice was harsh, his breathing rapid.

Her response was incoherent, but he understood. Bracing his back against the wall, he spread his legs and bent his knees a bit until he could trace her wet slit with the tip of his rod. She hooked one leg around his, making it easier for him to enter her. Hands on her hips, he entered her. She clung to him, swaying with each thrust of his cock. They moved in unison, each taking and receiving pleasure, until he could hold back no longer. He spilled his seed into her with a harsh groan. Before his contractions ceased, she came too with a shuddering cry.

He leaned against the wall, Lydia resting against his body, and waited for his breathing to return to normal. When it did, he kissed the top of her head where it lay on his shoulder. “I love you.”

She wrapped her arms around him tighter. “I love you, too, Evan.”

“So you’re no longer angry at me for making love to you by the book?”

A giggle burbled from her throat and she looked up at him, her face full of mischief. “No, I’m beginning to think it a splendid idea.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Then shall we return to bed and try again? There has to be an easier position.”

She moved to the desk, grabbed the book, and darted out of the room. Evan ran after her, eager to please his new bride in every way.

“If men and women act according to each other’s liking, their love for each other will not be lessened even in one hundred years.” —The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayana

Watch for Harry’s story,
How To Woo… A Wealthy Widow
, coming in 2013!

About the Author

Lyndi Lamont is the racy alter ego of romance author Linda McLaughlin. Writing sexy stories gives her a license to be naughty, at least between the pages of her books! She has written several full-length novels plus numerous short stories and novellas, ranging from historical to futuristic. She believes that love is unending and universal, and enjoys transporting her readers into a different world where her characters learn that, in the journey of life, love is the sweetest reward.

Connect online:

Linda McLaughlin

Lyndi Lamont

Blog

Twitter

And if you enjoyed
How To Woo… A Reluctant Bride
, please consider posting a review at the site where you bought the book.

Other Titles by Lyndi Lamont

Alliance: Clandestine Desire

Alliance: Cosmic Scandal

Alliance: Diplomatic Relations

Alliance: Fertile Ground

Alliance: Galactic Affairs

Alliance: Stellar Romance

Dare All For Love

Deception

Desperado

Finding Jason

Good Vibrations

Ilona’s Wolf

Lily And The Gambler

Lusty Liaisons

Maroone

Painting Penelope

Prepare To Be Boarded

Seducing The Enemy

Sex, Lies & Real Estate

By Linda McLaughlin

Lady Elinor’s Escape

Rogue’s Hostage

By Lyn O’Farrell

Worth The Risk

Bonus Material

If you’d like more Historical Romance, check out this excerpt from:

A Marquess for Christmas

By Vivienne Westlake

Regency Erotic Romance

When Violet Laurens is accosted on the road by thieves, a handsome stranger comes to her rescue. He is badly injured and doesn’t remember who he is, so she takes him home and cares for him. But the closer they become, the more Violet fears the inevitable moment when he must leave her.

The Marquess of Kittrick has vowed not to marry, despite his family’s wishes. He wants nothing to do with prim and proper young ladies, even a beautiful widow who makes him question all of his previous assumptions.

Every touch, every glance between them builds a passion that neither can deny—or control. But when Kit is no longer able to hide his identity, will he sacrifice his pride and claim Violet as his own? Or will he return to his dissolute ways and destroy the fragile love he never believed he could find?

A Marquess for Christmas

“He still sleeps fitfully, my lady.” Avery put his hand to the man’s head. “A little warm. We should get some ice and keep his temperature down.”

“And you have checked his bandages?” The bleeding had stopped, but the chance of infection was high. She stood by the four poster bed, looking down at her savior, who lay still and quiet, despite the people in the room.

“Yes, the wound is not healed, but neither is it as gruesome as it was yesterday.”

“And he has not awoken?”

“He tosses and murmurs and has managed the chamber pot a couple of times, but he does not speak and his eyes are glazed and unfocused.”

It had been two days since the incident. She prayed it was the laudanum keeping him so dazed and not his injury. But they could not be sure yet.

“If he does not awaken in the next day or two, we shall have to fetch Doctor Littleton. For now, let us keep him cool and make sure that someone checks on him every hour.”

Violet went to the window and opened it. The sky was cloudy and the ground covered with a thin layer of snow. “The fresh, cool air should do him good.” She rang the bell then went back to the bed and sat down. The man’s hands felt hot under hers, but she raised them to her cheek to be sure. Definitely too warm.

“My lady?” Miriam entered the room.

“Go and fetch some ice please. If there’s no ice, send a footman outside and gather snow. We need to keep him cool until his fever breaks.”

She leaned over to the small bedside table, dipped a cloth into a small ceramic basin, and wrung it out. “I will see to him for a while, Avery.” She looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you.”

Gently, she took the cloth and wiped the man’s face, always conscious of the bandage. She hummed as she worked. It was a very old song that she’d learned as a girl. Sometimes her mother would sing it as she stitched.

“
Come live with me and be my love and we will all the pleasures prove. The hill and valley, dale and field, and all the craggy mountains yield
.”

She washed his arms, noting each twist and turn of muscle. She even tested it with her finger to see if it was as firm as it appeared. Nothing about him was soft— except for his lips and the silky threads of his hair.

She brushed the towel over his neck and down to the exposed skin at the opening of his tunic. The hair there was thin and fine. She couldn’t help but stare as she swept over his chest. His nipples were wide, but tightened into little nubs when she touched them.

What would it feel like to run her palms over them? Would they react to her as they did to the damp cloth? What about her mouth?

Violet turned away and blushed. She closed her eyes and willed herself to remember him fighting off the thief and the moment when he’d taken the fateful blow. She needed to focus on her task and not on the yearnings she felt for a man she barely knew.