The Duke of Morewether’s Secret Read online

Page 12


  “Christianós,” she moaned his name in her native tongue.

  Desire made her voice was even huskier than usual. He had known she would be unbelievable, miraculous, sublime. He had wanted to prove to her the gossip about his prowess as a lover was not exaggerated. It was the one thing — besides raising outstanding equine specimens — he was remarkably good at and, up to today, he’d not shown himself in the best light. Unfortunately, he was fast approaching the end of his control.

  “Christianós,” she said again, just above a whisper and punctuated his name by arching her back. Normally he would have taken a few moments to bask in his lover’s ardor, to revel in knowing he’d brought a woman to such excitement with only caresses and kisses and a few expert moves with his fingers. Not this time, though. Not with this woman.

  “I need you now, Thea,” he told her and shoved his trousers to his ankles, kicked at his boots to free his legs.

  “Yes,” she agreed and met his urgency with her own. She tried to assist him with his pants and, if he hadn’t been so damn desperate, the whole thing would have been comical.

  With his legs finally freed, he settled between her thighs. He slipped his fingers between her thighs again and found she was ready, really ready, so ready. He wanted to warn her, to let her know what was coming, but he couldn’t speak. Instead, he rubbed himself on her opening and damn near lost his mind.

  “Now,” she demanded, and thrust her hips into him. “Now.”

  Yes, now. His edged his way in, slowly, gritting his teeth. “Oh my God.”

  Her hands caressed his arms, across his chest, to his neck so she could pull him down to kiss her. His tongue met with hers as his cock slid home.

  “All right?” he whispered to her lips, afraid to move. She nodded, but lay still. He kept his weight on his palms on the blanket and moved his hips slightly, making a smooth test stroke. She gasped but mimicked the movement with her own hips, rising to meet his downward glide.

  He pulled out further the next time and stroked deeper. Thea responded with a moan and clutched at his shoulders. Taking the invitation, Christian set a rhythm, smooth rapid stokes which brought them both near mindlessness.

  He reached down and clasped her leg at the knee and hooked it around his hip. He adjusted his position to push into her even deeper, rose back to his knees and grasped her waist with both hands. She met him stroke for stroke, thrust for thrust until Thea gasped an enormous breath and then gave a silent scream while she pulsed around him. One more thrust, then another and he joined her, all his muscles straining, his head thrown back. After several long moments he slumped next to her and pulled her body into the shelter of his arms, stroked her back and whispered sweet words into her hair.

  “My,” she murmured after several contented moments. “They weren’t lying.”

  “Who?” Christian caressed her cheek with his fingertips then kissed her nose.

  “The ladies of London.”

  “I don’t want to hear about the gossips anymore. My life started over the moment I met you. Neither of us has a past anymore, we are today, this hour, since you agreed to be my wife.”

  Thea’s gaze focused on him, her gray eyes looked deep into his own. She seemed to be contemplating something, but whatever it was, the decision came quickly and she nodded then kissed him squarely on the mouth. “Agreed.”

  They lay there for what felt like forever. It was a lazy afternoon and spending it with Christian under the shade of an oak with the cool breeze drifting across their skin was gloriously decadent. Thea wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else in the world than right where she was. Christian had even folded his jacket to make a pillow and tucked it under her head.

  Eventually, he’d put his trousers on and had trotted over in bare feet to check on their horses. While he was gone, Thea pulled his abandoned shirt over her head.

  “Oh,” he exclaimed with obvious disappointment when he returned and she was no longer naked.

  “I would have put my chemise back on but it seems to be no longer serviceable.” She held up the worthless garment and gave it a bemused look.

  “I’ll buy you a hundred to replace it.” He took the rag from her and tossed it the furthest side of the blanket. He pulled her back down with him, tumbling onto the blanket and into an embrace.

  “We’re getting married,” she said with an excited grin. She pulled her arm from under his and played with the curls around his ears. An ebony tress drifted over his forehead which wouldn’t behave no matter how many times she pushed it back.

  “Indeed.” He kissed her lips and then her nose. “You’re going to be a duchess.”

  Thea squeaked. Probably not the response most of the London ladies would have made at the notion of becoming a duchess. “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” A duchess. Wouldn’t her father have been thrilled? Probably he would, but the damnable old man wouldn’t know anything about it now and that made the prospect more palatable.

  “You’ll be superb,” he assured her. He stretched to the side and dragged the picnic basket closer. “My mother will teach you everything you need to know.” He hacked off a piece of cheese and fed her a bite.

  “I’m not worried.” But she was. She’d have to be an idiot not to be intimidated at becoming a duchess. She nibbled on an offered piece of bread.

  Suddenly, Christian sat upright and looked to her intently. “It never occurred to me until now because you’re so independent. Is there someone I should have asked for your hand? Should I go see your cousin, your father’s heir?”

  “What for?” She pulled him back to lie beside her. “To ask that jackass for permission? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “All right then.” Christian laughed and popped a grape in her mouth. “In two weeks you’ll be mine.”

  “Two weeks?” The thought made her giddy. “Why so soon?”

  “Why not.” he answered and took a sip of wine from the bottle. “I see no reason to wait. You might change your mind.”

  Thea grinned. Not a chance. “You know I didn’t come to London to find a husband.”

  “So I’ve heard.” He passed her the bottle. He rummaged around in the basket and came up with some sugared biscuits. “I’d rather make it legal before you come to your senses.”

  She leaned forward on her elbow to look him in the eye from his reclining position next to her. The one arm crooked behind his head didn’t look as comfortable a pillow as the folded jacket he gave her. His exaggerated calm was a poor mask to the anxiety she felt thrumming through him. “I’ll not change my mind. You’re not the man I’d thought you were before I’d even met you. No one is more shocked than I, I assure you.” She laid her palm on his bare chest, felt the soft curls there. “Your priorities are the same as mine. Family is the most important thing to me as it is you. You’re kind and intelligent and ridiculously attractive.” She gave a low chuckle and bravely pinched his nipple as he’d done to her. He sucked a gasping breath between his teeth in response. “The worst of it is, I love you. I’m quite hopeless, really.”

  He smiled a wicked grin and pulled her down to kiss him, his posture changing rapidly from lazy to alert in seconds. The arm behind his head moved quickly to drag her atop him, pulled up her knees and, suddenly, she straddled him.

  Oh. Well, now, this is interesting. She sat tall, the wool of his trousers scratchy against her sensitive skin. She made an exploratory wiggle and felt the change in his size. Very interesting.

  “I’d rather have you helpless,” he told her and clamped his hands on her hips and held her still.

  “But it seems like you’re helpless now.” She leaned forward and kissed him. The thin fabric of his shirt, voluminous on her, billowed out making a thin barrier between her skin and the heat of his. Her nipples peaked at the sensation.

  “You think so?”

  She did think so until his hand slipped between their bodies and he did that amazing thing again with his fingers. She sat straighter, giving him better access. Oh
, my God, that was amazing; he was amazing. His hips gave a little roll, and he yanked his shirt from between their bodies. His fingers remained busy while his other hand kneaded her breasts, alternating one then the other.

  Thea tossed her head back and breathed out a long, slow moan. Oh Zeus and Apollo, she’d made the right decision to marry him. She sensed the finish coming, the glorious end he’d brought her to before. She strained against him, pushing her pelvis into this hand. His finger slid inside her and that was all the provocation she needed.

  Another quick roll of his hips and his trousers were shoved down. Before she had fully recovered from that glorious climax he was stroking her again, this time with the head of his cock. Strong hands urged her up, then he was guiding himself inside her.

  Thea tossed her head back again, reveled in the sensations. Again, his hands guided her, clasping her hips and showing her the movement, rolling his hips with her rise and fall.

  He groaned. “That’s it.”

  Thea opened her eyes and watched him. His gaze was hot, smoldering. His arousal gave her such a feeling of power. She experimented with some different movements with her hips and took his groans and rapid breathing as confirmation her instincts had been good ones.

  This time she drove them over the cliff and, as she fell, she was confident in her decision to marry him. She couldn’t believe Christian would ever be a man like her father. She was certain of it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Shining through the leaves of the giant oak tree, the early afternoon sun dappled Christian’s naked skin as they lay next to each on the blanket. It wasn’t as warm as home, but the breeze that drifted over her skin felt like a caress. She’d never been so languid, so decadent, as lying stark naked in a field with the most gorgeous man in all of England. It occurred to her if the experience was this nice in England, how much better this experience would be on a secluded beach on Peloponnese.

  “Have you ever swum naked before?” she asked.

  Christian’s dark head turned to face her, and he kissed her shoulder before he answered. “Indeed. Want to wander through the field ‘til we find a deep horse trough?”

  Thea chuckled. “No, but I was thinking how nice it would be if we were on a quiet beach at home. You’ve never seen water so blue.” She was feeling wistful which was nonsensical. Bringing Christian home as her new, unexpected husband would not be easy.

  Her fiancé rolled his entire body to the side and raised himself on his elbow to look at her. “I’m looking forward to seeing your home. With you as a guide. I’m sure no Londoner will ever have a better experience.”

  She brushed the curl from his forehead, but it fell stubbornly back against his brow. “I’ll show you everything.”

  “Not that I’m giving you the opportunity to change your mind, but now you’ve come to your senses and professed your love for me, will you tell me why you were so against me in the first place.”

  “I wasn’t against you,” she lied.

  “Well you weren’t for me either.”

  “I was being unfair since I didn’t know you. I thought I knew you.” Christian’s eyebrows knit together and even rubbing her thumb over his furrowed brow didn’t ease the tension there. He needed more, a better explanation. “I thought you were like my father, and I swore I’d never have a marriage like my mother’s. I’d sooner never marry than live like that.”

  Christian grasped her hand and held it to his lips for a moment before asking with a soft voice, “Did he beat her?”

  “No. Nothing like that.” She smiled to assure him. “He was devilishly handsome like you. Oh please, don’t roll your eyes. You beautiful men know exactly how you affect women, and you use it to your advantage. Everything I’d heard about you from the gossips of London convinced me you lived the same kind of wanton life he did — one with no regard for friend or family or who you destroyed in your wake. Of course, I know now that’s not true.” She kissed his lips because he seemed vaguely hurt.

  “Certainly not anymore.”

  “It turns out you share my values. Your family means everything to you. You are nothing like him, and I couldn’t love you more.”

  ~~~***~~~

  The wedding flew together faster than Thea thought possible. Christian had been true to his word and appeared before the Archbishop of Canterbury as soon as they returned to London. His mother, while thrilled with his intended, refused to allow the event to occur sooner than a fortnight. After all, there was a trousseau to purchase and a wedding breakfast to plan. Thea insisted there was no need for a new wardrobe because her clothes had all been purchased since her arrival in town merely two months before. The Duchess was having none of it, and of course Anna aligned with the side advocating shopping — but then any reason for Anna to launch an attack on Bond Street.

  By the time Thea’s sister-in-law-to-be, Francesca, arrived at the house two days later, Anna was marching around like a general, giving orders. “Don’t sit,” she told Francesca. “We have so much to do; we need to go right away.”

  “Oh.” Francesca looked disappointed. “I was hoping for a moment of quiet. Anthony has been very … busy as of late.”

  Thea patted her on the shoulder. “That I understand. My brothers have always been boisterous.”

  “I wish boisterous was all it is. I can’t even keep a nanny with all that boy’s antics.”

  Anna flicked her hands towards the door in a shooing motion. “This can all be discussed in the carriage. At this rate, we’re going to find the roads filled with traffic anyway and have plenty of time to sit.”

  “Don’t forget we’re fetching Penelope Cavendish on the way.” Francesca reminded the ladies as Anna herded them out the door, list in hand. “Olivia’s so disappointed she can’t join us.”

  “I saw her last week.” Thea dodged a rather frisky swat from Anna and picked up the pace. “The poor woman is as big as a mountain.”

  “It’s because she’s so tiny.” Anna observed. “There’s nowhere for that child to go but out.”

  Thea took the seat next to the window and the carriage was off, trundling along the lane. “I took her a collection of La Belle Assemblée and the most salacious gothic novel you’ve ever seen.”

  “She is disheartened, the poor thing.” Francesca shook her head. “I remember how much I hated confinement. She didn’t even have Dalton to order around for the last two days since he and my brother have been gone.”

  Thea whipped her head around. “Christian’s with Lord Dalton?” Her fiancé had left town the morning after the special license had been obtained. He’d kissed her goodbye — a rather toe-curling kiss to be sure, but he refused to tell her where he was going, only that he’d be back well before the wedding. It was a surprise, he had insisted.

  A mysterious smile curled Francesca’s lips. “Yes, and my husband as well.”

  “All three of them?” Anna leaned forward on the tufted bench.

  Francesca nodded.

  “Where did they go?” Thea asked. “What are they doing?”

  “I’m not allowed to tell.” Francesca sat straight against the seat back and folded her hands in her lap. The mysterious smile remained.

  “Will you tell me?” Anna poked her friend in the arm.

  Francesca shook her head. “No, indeed, I will not.”

  “I’m your best friend,” Anna protested.

  This time the Countess Harrington shrugged. “I can’t tell. I was made to promise.”

  Anna’s jaw flew open in protest and she gasped. “Surely you’re jesting. Your best friend.”

  “I’m going to be your sister. You have to tell me.” It was driving Thea mad — where had the man had gone off to with a twinkle in his eye with such secrecy? She didn’t approve of secrets on general principle. Nothing good ever came from keeping secrets. Except for possibly her brothers. They had been a secret at one time, but no longer, and she was dedicated to the prospect of making sure they had the lives they were due. She couldn’
t imagine how she’d eke out enough time before the wedding to revisit the educational prospects for the boys. Somehow falling in love had gotten her off her original mission. She frowned.

  “You’ll know soon enough.” Francesca was clearly reveling in extending the mystery. “Oh, don’t pout. He made me promise.”

  Anna squinted her eyes at Francesca for a moment, then turned her attention to Thea. “If we really want to know, we should set Penelope on her. That girl could pester her to the point of begging for the opportunity to tell us.”

  Thea rolled her eyes. “No. Whatever it is, I’ll know soon enough.”

  By the time Lady Penelope Cavendish, Lord Dalton’s oldest sister, hoisted herself into the carriage the topic of conversation had filtered back to the looming wedding and the excitement of purchasing even more new clothes. Thea’s insistence she had plenty of clothes was dismissed with a wave of a finely gloved hand.

  “When do you leave on your honeymoon?” Penelope asked with all the authority of an unmarried woman.

  “Two days after the wedding. That’s why Christian obtained the special license.” Thea didn’t mention the conversation where she told her fiancé they shouldn’t continue to have marital relations until after the wedding. That particular conversation ended with a breath-quickening kiss, some comical cursing from Christian and added to the reason for the flight to the Archbishop. “If we missed that particular ship it would be several more months before we could travel comfortably again.”

  Anna pulled her carefully written lists from her reticule. “That’s why I have some summer dresses listed — in deference to the weather in Greece.”