The Kiss (41 page)
"Then don't, my love. Come to me."
And with that he lifted her as if she were a feather in the summer breeze and drew her down onto the narrow pallet with him above her. His hands, his mouth, his touch were everywhere and he groaned each time she urged him closer.
It seemed an eternity since they had last touched and she was dizzy from wanting. He was driving her wild with his patient, slow seduction.
He stared at her breasts reverently and then teased them to heightened sensitivity by his touch and his lips.
Finally when she couldn't bear another moment, he hooked a hand under one knee, nudged her thighs farther apart and drove his hard thickness deep, deep inside of her with one long, bold movement. His length kissed her womb—as if he were trying to imprint himself on her forevermore. The pleasure raged inside of her. As he began the ancient push-pull of passion, she felt such overwhelming joy rush through her that she thought she might burst from it.
Suddenly he withdrew, breathless with passion, and rested his forehead against hers.
"Georgiana ... I had meant to wait. Had meant to tell you again and again what was in my heart until you promised. I can't go on until I know for certain. You will marry me, won't you? You never promised." He wore such a look of desperate love and uncertainty on his face. A look she had seen so many times on her own face in her tiny mirror in her room.
She smiled. "Well, how can I not marry you? You wanted a marriage of convenience and I can't think of anything more convenient than discovering we both love each other."
He breathed a sigh of relief and kissed her forehead. "My love, my dearest, dearest love. How I love thee." He appeared years younger at this moment in time—more like the boy she had known but with the seriousness of the man he had become.
She kissed his temple, insanely happy to be able to unleash her love for him. "I've waited so long to hear those words. And all the days, months, and years make them all the sweeter."
He brushed one last potent kiss upon her lips and gave himself fully to her again when Geor-giana arched heavenward.
She stared into the inky night sky and gazed at the stars all around them as rapture overtook them both, flinging them into the thready clouds above to soar with the wind.
November 15
—
to do
- Discuss menus with Mrs. Killen
- Casually find out if Mr. Grayson Wilde is in want of a wife. Very casually.
- Arrange to go driving with Sarah and Elizabeth
- Visit Luc & Rosamunde
—
don't forget presents for babies
- Write a letter to Mr. Brown. Read it many, many times before posting
Dear Mr. Brown,
You shall write to me at once and tell me precisely where you have taken my darling girl. How could you take her away? Grace Sheffey has always been much like a very special goddaughter to me.
I'm not certain I can forgive you for this. And I was just starting to think, mind you, only a particle of a smidgeon of a thought, that I might con
sider in a more favorable light what you told me in the phaeton.
But I won't do so unless you bring her back. Grace needs me right now
—
much more so than ever before. I fear if I'm not with her, she might simply give up on securing happiness altogether or, heaven forbid, do something very rash. What could you possibly have been thinking to take her to Scotland? And at winter's onset?
You are to keep an eye on her every moment of every day. And if I hear anything about someone getting lost in one of those deathly bogs or freezing fogs, I will string you up using Grace's strands of pearls.
You must bring her back to me. I can't stand it a moment longer.
If I don't receive an express from you shortly, Quinn and I have agreed to take his phaeton, which is fully repaired
—
quite nicely by the by
—
and we will drive to Scotland to find you both.
I put my faith in you once, long ago, to my everlasting detriment. I might be willing to put my faith in you again. Please, please don't disappoint me. I'm too old for disappointments.
From your lass,
Ata
PS. Georgiana and Quinn are to be married by Special License. It is all very convenient as Sarah, Elizabeth and I are to reside at Penrose indefinitely while Quinn and Georgiana oversee the renovations at Trehallow. Grayson Wilde is proving an
exceptional steward. But John . . . he is not the same as you.
The old lady flitted the feathered edge of her quill against her pursed lips and smiled. That should do the trick quite nicely.
Flying.
That's what Georgiana had said.
Kissing was like flying.
She just hoped these old wings could stand the strain.
But they were willing. They were
very
willing.
Greatest thanks to agent Helen Breitwieser of Cornerstone Literary for her exceptional guidance and to Avon/HarperCollins Executive Editor Lyssa Keusch, Editor May Chen, and Cristine Grace for shepherding this book through publication with so much care. Much gratitude to Cybil Solyn for her terrific insight and support, Mike Odell at the Greenbrier Falconry School for his falconry lessons, and to Crystal Davis and Kelley Grasnow for providing the inspiration behind a strong heroine with a great heart and a desire to work hard—the type of person I most admire.
And special appreciation to several people who are always so encouraging: John Charles, Gregory W. Gingery, Kathryn Caskie, Elsie Hogarth, Louise Bergin, Candice Hern, Anna Campbell, Diana Peterfreund, Deborah Barnhardt, Diana Crosby, Hope Tarr, Ann Kane, Fairleigh Killen— and to www.RomanceNovel.TVs Maria Lokken, Marisa O'Neill, and Kim Castillo, as well as Michelle Buonfiglio at LifetimeTV.com.
Finally, as always, endless thanks to my beloved husband, children, mother, sisters, and parents-in-law, and to two very special cousins—Peter Nash and Count Arnaud d'Aurelle de Paladines—all of whom provide a well of love and support whenever I most need it.
