“Shhh,” he said, pressing a finger to her mouth. “You don’t have to ask, my love. I’m sorry you felt you did.” He took his finger away and replaced it with his mouth, kissing her deeply, devouring her, showing her with his body and hands and mouth how much he loved her. God, he’d missed her, the sounds she made, the way she moved her body against his when he aroused her. He smoothed one hand along her thigh, letting out a low moan when he found her completely naked underneath her nightgown.
“Let me see you,” he said, and she lifted her arms and let him remove the nightgown, revealing herself to him without one bit of reticence. “I forgive you,” he said, smiling, as he brought his mouth to one nipple, sucking deeply. She arched against him, and he heard her chuckle.
“Are you saying that all I had to do was remove my nightgown and you would have forgiven me?”
“Instantly,” he said, turning to her other nipple and flicking his tongue against it. She brought his head up to hers and they kissed deeply as she moved her hand over his chest and around to his back, pulling him closer and closer, as if she were trying to pull him inside her. He moved his hand between her legs, feeling her slick and warm, finding the spot that made her cry out, made her move her hips involuntarily against his hand. She was the most beautiful woman when she was aroused. The complete darkness of the room only enhanced the intense feeling of arousal when she began jerking herself against him in abandon, seeking her release.
Alexander moved between her legs and tasted her, inserting one finger deeply so he could feel the spasms that meant she was coming.
“Oh,” she said, right before she was completely overcome, her body pulsing against him, her hips jerking erotically.
She was still pulsing her release when he entered her, and stopped, savoring the miracle in his arms. At that moment, the world was right and beautiful. He moved because he could not bear to stay still any longer, and she drove her hips up to meet him.
“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this,” she said, kissing him.
She was slick and tight and lovely, and she was his wife.
His
wife. Elsie, the girl who wouldn’t stop talking, who captured his heart even though he had tried so hard to protect it. God, he loved her. Loved her. In his head, he said it over and over as his rhythm increased, as his release grew ever closer. Her legs drew around him, holding him close as she matched his thrusts with her own, as she let out the sounds that told him she was close, as close as he was. And when he felt her contract around him, he was lost to a place he never wanted to climb out of.
He lay, spent and out of breath, atop her, bracing on elbows so she wouldn’t take the full brunt of his weight. “I finally figured out how to stop you from talking,” he said, feeling rather pleased at the moment.
“Hmph,” she said, but she was smiling. “You know, Your Grace, you have found a perfect match. You are silent. I am talkative. You are morose and I am interminably cheerful.”
“Like comedy and tragedy?”
She nodded. “One cannot exist without the other.”
“I do believe I am figuring that out.” He lay on his side, but pulled her close. “I ...”
When he hesitated, she pulled herself up onto one elbow and looked down on him. “Yes?”
“I need you,” he said simply.
“Well, of course you do, silly. And I need you. So we are a perfect pair, the two of us.”
“Elsie, don’t make fun. Living with me will not be easy. I am prone to despair, I don’t like people, and quite often I am rather not very much fun to be with.”
She kissed his cheek. “But you’re very handsome and that can make up for quite a lot, you know.”
Despite himself, he let out a laugh. “I’ve a feeling you won’t let me be serious, even when the situation calls for it.”
“I’m not as shallow as all that. But I will make it my life’s work to keep you giddy with happiness.”
He let out a sigh as if the prospect of a giddy life was not such a good thing. “And what shall my life’s work be?”
“To make very certain I feel loved.”
“I do believe,” Alexander said, kissing her on the very tip of her nose, “that is something I can do.”
Epilogue
“Where is the artist?” Lord Smythe-Kingsley asked, looking at one of Alexander’s finest works on exhibit at the Royal Academy of Arts. “I’d like to express my great admiration of his work.”
“His Grace is somewhere,” Elsie said, pretending to look around the crowded gallery and lying through her teeth. “You must have just missed him.” And so it went through three days of the wildly successful exhibit of the Duke of Kingston’s oils.
Alexander loved to paint but absolutely abhorred the public adoration he received during his exhibits. His annual shows drew huge crowds, who he claimed attended as much to view his paintings as in the hope of viewing the artist himself. Elsie adored walking among the crowds, hearing accolades about the man she loved most in the world. He was touted as a great master, and his paintings now sold for thousands of pounds.
“It’s the mystery more than the mastery,” he said to Elsie, after his exhibit closed. The two stood before his favorite piece—the one of Elsie bending over their son’s ornate crib and looking lovingly down into his smiling face. Christopher Wilkinson, Lord Hathwaite and future Marquess, was nearly always smiling and had already begun to talk, obviously taking after his beautiful mother.
That particular painting was not for sale, though many wealthy members of the ton had made exorbitant offers.
“I don’t know how it has happened, Alexander, but you are the most popular member of the peerage in all of England. How very ironic,” Elsie said.
“Painfully ironic.”
“And no one but me knows you can play the piano like a virtuoso. Imagine the invitations we’d receive then.”
“Are you trying to torture me? We attend far too many social events as it is.”
“Two a Season is not far too many.”
“It’s one more than I agreed to,” he pointed out.
“Yes, but that was before I realized how much you love me. Now I have such a wonderful weapon to use at my will.”
“You are a devious wench,” he said, pulling her against him and kissing her soundly.
Alexander called for his carriage, not quite believing how his life had changed in the past two years. He was starting to realize that this feeling—this strange and wonderful feeling that had started the night of the violin concert—was, oddly enough, unrestrained happiness.
“Why are you smiling?” Elsie asked, a smile of her own on her face.
“Because, my love, I have so much to smile about.”
She nodded thoughtfully and placed her hand in his. “Yes,” she said, her eyes filling with tears as they often did when she took the time to think about how very happy she was. “You do.” It appeared her life’s work—to keep him giddy with happiness—was succeeding, after all.
Did you miss Jane’s other books?
Go back and read those as well!
MARRY CHRISTMAS
A Christmas wedding to the Duke of Bellingham. Any other socialite in Newport, Rhode Island, would be overjoyed at the prospect, but Elizabeth Cummings finds her mother’s announcement as appealing as a prison sentence. Elizabeth has not the slightest desire to meet Randall Blackmore, let alone be bartered for an English title. Her heart belongs to another, and the duke’s prestige, arrogance, and rugged charm will make no difference to her plans of elopement.
Against his expectations and desires, Randall Blackmore has inherited a dukedom and a vast estate that only marriage to an heiress can save. Selling his title to the highest bidder is a wretched obligation, but to Randall’s surprise his intended bride is pretty, courageous, delightfully impertinent—and completely uninterested in becoming a Duchess. Yet suddenly, no other woman will do, and a marriage in name only will never be enough for a husband determined to win his wife in body, heart, and soul ...
A CHRISTMAS SCANDAL
Dashing, debonair, and completely irresistible, Edward Hollings has all of Newport buzzing—and to Maggie Pierce’s surprise, she alone has caught his eye. But when the handsome earl returns to England without proposing, a devastated Maggie knows she must forget him. Life only gets worse for Maggie, as all her dreams of happiness and love come crashing down around her. When Maggie receives an invitation to go to England for the Christmas birth of her dear friend’s baby, she accepts—vowing to keep her devastating lies and shameful secrets from the one man she has ever loved ...
Edward vowed he’d never marry, but he came dangerously close with Maggie. She’s beautiful, witty, indescribably desirable—and Edward can’t forget her. When Maggie visits mutual friends for Christmas, Edward can’t stay away. In fact, he finds himself more attracted to her than ever—a desire fueled even more by Maggie’s repeated snubs. With the love he never thought he’d find slipping away, Edward is determined to make Maggie his own, no matter what the cost ...
A CHRISTMAS WALTZ
To Lady Amelia Wellesley, it seems utterly romantic to surprise her dashing fiancé at his home in Texas so the two can marry by Christmas. But Amelia’s surprise goes awry when Carson Kitteridge calls off their wedding as soon as she arrives, leaving Amelia in disgrace ...
With nowhere to turn, Amelia finds an unlikely savior in Carson’s brother, Dr. Boone Kitteridge. Boone offers to marry Amelia, sparing her the shame of returning to England unwed. But Boone isn’t just protecting Amelia’s honor; secretly, he finds her irresistible, and the thought of indulging his desire for her is too tempting to ignore. As Boone and Amelia forge a fragile bond, something goes terribly wrong—and it will take nothing less than a Christmas miracle for Amelia to discover who she is destined to love ...
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Copyright © 2011 by Jane Goodger
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