by Bay, Louise
Christ, sometimes this woman knew me better than I knew myself, but she was right. The sex between us was always better than the best I’d ever had, and there was no reason that would change now. I thrust into her, rough and hard, erasing any doubt the sex would ever be something that was a problem for us. I wasn’t sure if it were pressure or performance anxiety that had put me on pause, but whatever it was, Darcy had cut through it.
She always did.
“Using me for my body.” I grunted.
She sucked in a breath and bit her lip as I pushed in again. “You’d better believe it.” She struggled to keep her voice level as I fucked her with deep, punishing strokes that turned her words to the desperate sounds that I loved to hear so much.
Our eyes met and her love for me, my devotion reflected back, was almost overwhelming.
This was what being in love was. Connection on every level. Being someone’s world and them being yours. Knowing I’d do anything to make her happy.
My body clenched as I realized I wasn’t going to be able to hold back for long. I liked making her come first, took satisfaction from that, but not today.
“I want us to come together, Logan.” She trailed her fingernails down my back, tracing pleasure up and down my skin. It was too much.
I grabbed her hands and pushed them over her head. “You want me like I want you?” I knew I’d been the one to push her away, I’d fucked up but I’d more than learned my lesson. I’d never needed reassurance from a woman before. Never needed anything from anyone. But Darcy was so mixed up in who I was now, who I was becoming that I had no choice but to need her. She was a part of me.
She held my gaze. “Always.”
It was what I needed to hear, and it released something in me, and in her, too.
“Logan.” She tightened her grip. “Logan.”
I dipped down to kiss her, wanting to swallow her sounds, experience her pleasure as she came. With just the sweep of her tongue over mine, my orgasm coursed through my body, meeting hers with a vengeance, binding us together.
Epilogue
Darcy
“I’m just not really a ring type of person.” I took in the tray of huge diamonds in front of me, a little overwhelmed. They were all massive and showy and although I appreciated the thought, none of them seemed like me. I squeezed Logan’s hand—I didn’t want him to think that I was being ungrateful.
“I don’t understand. Are you telling me you won’t marry me or that you don’t want to wear a ring?”
“I’ve already said I’ll marry you.” We were on the top floor of the Hilton Park Lane at the same restaurant we’d come to for our first date. He’d warned me the proposal was going to happen, he’d been warning me most days since we’d been reunited, but I’d known from the moment I’d gone to his office all those months ago that we’d be together forever. I’d never needed a proposal, but Logan had insisted.
“Just no ring?” he asked.
I glanced up at the Cartier jeweler who sat on the other side of the table. How Logan had convinced him to bring such an extensive collection of jewelry outside the safety of their store, I had no idea. The six-man security detail that had followed him in probably had something to do with it.
“They are all very beautiful,” I reassured Logan. “I’m not sure it’s practical. I’m up to my knees in mud most days and then with the horses or—”
“You don’t always have to be practical, Darcy. Sometimes you can just buy something because it’s pretty. And you can always take it off when you’re out on the estate.”
“What’s the point in that? If I’m going to marry you, it’s not a part-time gig.”
A smile curled his lips and I cupped his face, smoothing my thumb over his mouth.
“What about just a simple band?” I suggested. “Just plain gold, if it comes off and gets lost, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.”
Logan chuckled as the jeweler closed the lid on the heavy leather box on the table and replaced it with an identical one. “What about something like this?” he asked. “Normally bigger is better, but personally, I like these simple bands that look like a row of diamonds. People wear them as wedding bands, but it might suit you as an engagement ring.”
He opened the lid to reveal at least fifty rings, just as he’d described. Elegant and sophisticated, less likely to get caught in horse hair or torn off as I moved bales of hay. “Yeah, this is better.”
“Only you would want the least expensive thing in the store,” Logan said, shaking his head.
I glanced up at him, grabbed his tie and pulled him toward me for a kiss. “I love great jewelry. Just not for every day. I want an engagement ring that represents us—we don’t need showy. I always figure a big diamond is making up for something that’s missing.”
“Do any in particular catch your eye?” the jeweler asked.
I studied the rows of bands. They were all pretty.
“What about this one?” Logan pointed.
The jeweler pulled it out of the leather and handed it to Logan.
“I like it,” he said, showing it to me, taking my left hand. It was very simple, even though the diamonds were some of the biggest. It looked like a row of raindrops had been wound around a ring of platinum. It was simple and light and very pretty.
Logan slipped the ring on and my heartbeat scattered in my chest.
I bit down on my bottom lip. I’d known in theory that we were going to be together forever, but watching as he put that ring on my finger, it seemed more real somehow.
We both stared down at my hand. “I think it’s perfect,” he said. “It’s completely you.”
The ring fit exactly and I wondered whether every piece that was here today was in my size. “I love it.”
Logan turned to the jeweler. “I think that’s our decision made.”
“It looks beautiful on you,” he said and gathered up his boxes with the help of his burly security guards, then left the two of us alone.
“Now we just have a wedding to plan,” Logan said as he slid me onto his lap so we were both facing the twinkling lights of the city, the countryside a dark blanket off in the distance.
“You want to get married here?” I asked. “You said it summed us up, London and the countryside in one perfect view.”
“I think this view is about who we were when we first met. Now, I’m not so sure.” He nuzzled into my neck and pulled me closer. “I would have thought Woolton Hall was the most obvious place to hold the wedding.”
“Maybe, but I think our wedding should be about us and our friends and family.”
“But doesn’t that include the entire village? You know, I think every woman in Woolton sees you as their daughter.”
I sank back into him. He was right. The whole village had seen me grow up, helped raise me, given me my values, showed me what was important in life. It was only fitting that they should witness me move on to the next phase of my life.
“Perhaps you’re right. The ceremony could be just a few of us and then we should just have a big party and invite everyone.”
“Sounds like the perfect compromise,” Logan said.
We’d been getting better at making those. He was moving into Woolton Hall and I’d promised to come to London two nights a week. We agreed that eventually Mrs. Steele would move in with us, but she wanted to keep her independence, and her garden, as long as possible.
“I think you’re right. I’ve been looking for family everywhere my whole life. And now I’ve found it.” I turned my head and kissed his jaw. He was my home, the place I felt most myself, the person I trusted above anyone in the world. Logan was my family now.
Logan
“Why didn’t you try to convince me to stay in bed?” Darcy asked as we wandered hand in hand past the stables and toward Badsley House.
Sunday mornings had become both ritual and negotiation. Darcy would insist it was the perfect time for a morning walk to her favorite spot that overlooked Chilternshire, and I would try t
o persuade her to stay in bed just a little longer. But this morning was different.
The mist swirled across the lawns and the sun was trying to break through. It was a special part of the day, and I’d come to enjoy our Sunday morning walks together.
I shrugged. “It’s your birthday, so it’s only fair we do what you want to do today. Plus, you stayed in bed with me last Sunday morning—and last night should keep me satiated for a few more hours yet.” That was a total lie. There wasn’t a time when I didn’t want Darcy, even if I’d had her just a few moments before, but I had a surprise for her and everything was in place.
She narrowed her eyes as if she didn’t quite believe me, but didn’t say anything. “Isn’t it a perfect morning? You have to learn to ride, and we can go out together.”
“I’m not sure I’m ever going to be a good rider. I think it’s like skiing—you can’t be great at it unless you learn as a child.” I was much more at home boxing or lifting weights.
“You do okay,” she said, a compliment considering I’d only been on a horse a handful of times and okay was as good as I got.
“We need to make sure our kids ride and ski from the time they can walk.”
“Our kids? We’re not even married yet.”
“You of all people should know that just because people are married, it doesn’t mean they’re ready for children and just because people aren’t married doesn’t mean they’re not.”
She gazed up at me, the soft, pink bloom in her cheeks making her glow. “Are you saying you’re ready for kids?”
I kissed her on her head. “With you, I’m ready for anything.” Losing Darcy had sent any expectations I’d had about the way my life was going to be up in flames. The day she’d come back to me, I’d started with a clean slate. She was at the center of everything I wanted, and with her, I wanted everything.
She bit back a smile in the most delicious way.
I paused and pulled a scarf from my pocket. We were just a few steps away from her favorite spot and her birthday surprise. “I need you to put this on,” I said, holding up the handful of navy blue silk I’d stolen from her dressing room.
“I’m not cold. Where did you get that—”
“I’m going to blindfold you.”
She tugged out of my grip. “What are you talking about?”
I cupped her face and skimmed her cheek with my thumb. “Trust me. I have a surprise for you.”
She didn’t say yes, but neither did she object. She clung to my shirt as I wrapped the silk around her eyes.
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I guided her forward.
“Logan, what are you doing?”
“Shhh, just a few more steps.” I paused when we got to the clearing. Everything and everybody was where it was meant to be.
“Okay, promise me you won’t scream.”
“Logan, I swear, if you—”
I pulled off her blindfold and watched as she took in what was before her. Ryder, Scarlett and their children had arrived last night and slept at Badsley House with Violet and Alexander. Aurora had messaged me before Darcy and I had set off to say everything was in place. My grandmother had been determined to be part of the surprise and with some help from Ryder and Alexander, seemed to have arrived unscathed.
“Happy birthday,” everyone chorused.
“I can’t believe you’re all here.” Overwhelmed, Darcy sped toward her friends and family, pulling them into hug after hug. “How did this happen? I thought you were in Shanghai or something?” she asked Ryder.
“Logan made it happen. Organized us all,” Ryder said.
She turned back to me and held out her hand. “You did this for me?” she asked as I joined the fray.
I shrugged. “You’re not an easy woman to impress. I can’t just drop some money on a fancy gift.”
“Having all my favorite people around me is better than anything you could ever buy me.”
Darcy might have been brought up in an incredibly wealthy family, but what made her rich was how much she loved those in her life, and how they loved her in return.
“Well, I did kind of buy you something, you know, in case seeing this lot was a bit of a let-down.” I nodded to the bench I’d placed overlooking the view she loved so much. “I thought as we got older, we’d need somewhere to sit when we came up here.”
“Logan, it’s perfect.”
I followed as she smoothed her fingers over the oak curve of its back then rounded toward the front. “Really?”
She traced her fingers over the words I’d had inscribed on the back of the bench. “Where Logan Steele fell in love with Darcy Westbury on 12 March.”
“From the first moment I laid eyes on you. It just took me awhile to get used to the idea.”
She circled her arms around my waist and pulled me close. “I think I fell in love with you the exact same day. I just didn’t want to admit it.”
“I think we’re both a little stubborn.” I kissed her lightly on the lips. “Happy birthday, my love. Let’s celebrate.”
Lane and Mrs. MacBee had set up some champagne, but refused to join us, so Ryder poured out glasses. I took two and handed one to Darcy.
“I can’t, Logan,” Darcy said, worry crossing her face.
“I know it’s early. I just thought we should start the celebrations early.” I brushed her hair from her face.
“No, it’s not that. I want to. I just…can’t.” She took my hand from her face and placed it over her belly. “You said we didn’t have to be married to start a family, right?”
My stomach swooped and I tossed the two glasses of champagne on the grass beside us so I could place both hands on her belly. “Are you serious?” I glanced from my hands to her face, trying to take it all in.
“I am. Are you freaking out?” A mixture of hopeful concern crossed her face. My beautiful girl shouldn’t have any worries.
I was going to be a father—I couldn’t think of anything better.
“Freaking out? I’m fucking delighted.” I turned to our friends and family crowded around the champagne table. “Did you hear that?” I bellowed. “We’re going to be parents.” I fell to my knees and pressed my lips over her stomach.
Shrieks and cheers surrounded us as everyone piled over to congratulate us both.
I’d intended to surprise Darcy on her birthday. Typical, that she’d outdo me. She always did, in every way. As my grandmother said: she gave me a run for my money.
And that was the thing I liked about her best.
* * *
I hope you enjoyed The Earl of London, keep reading for the next book Park Avenue Prince.
Park Avenue Prince
Published by Louise Bay 2017
Copyright © 2017, 2018 Louise Bay. All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.
ISBN: 978-1-910747-48-3
Chapter One
Sam
“It’s huge, Sam,” Angie said as she walked into the empty living space with high ceilings and views of Central Park and across the city. The sun was so bright I had to shield my eyes as I looked out the windows on the west side. I sucked in a deep breath as I took it all in. Did I really own this place? I knew it was my signature on the paperwork but sometimes it felt as though I were leading someone else’s life.
“That’s what they all tell me.” I chuckled. Like most men, I still had the puerile sense of humor of a fifteen-year-old boy. But after fifteen years of friendship, Angie expected nothing more.
“You’re disgusting. I’m not talking about
your penis, for crying out loud.”
“Who said anything about my penis?” I held my arms out wide. “I’m talking about this place. As usual, your mind is in the gutter.”
Angie shook her head, but there was no denying the size of the new apartment I’d just bought. It was seven thousand, two hundred eighty-six square feet of the Upper East Side and I lived here now. “The view will ensure it keeps its value,” I said, looking out at the Manhattan skyline.
“The location alone will make sure that happens. It’s 740 Park Avenue, Sam.” She was shaking her head, incredulous. I didn’t blame her.
The address had been important. One of the most sought after listings in New York made my purchase one of the safest real estate transactions in America. A victory for me, but also a good place to put my money, or some of it, anyway.
“Do you ever think this isn’t your life at all?”
“Sometimes.” I’d made every dollar it took to buy this apartment in the last decade. When I’d graduated high school, I’d left the group children’s home where I’d spent the previous six years with nothing but two pairs of jeans, two t-shirts, a sweatshirt and some underwear. For me, leaving my old life behind, getting to start again, had been liberating. The only thing that’d tagged along from those days was Angie. We’d met the first day in my new school after I went to the home. She was in the girls’ home nearby and must have recognized a fellow orphan. We’d been best friends ever since.
In fifteen years, I’d not managed to shake her off. All the odds had been stacked against me. But here I was, standing in my apartment on Park Avenue overlooking the whole of the city. I’d always known, even when I wasn’t sure where my next meal was coming from, that if I was in control of my life, things would get better.
And they had.
“You thinking about Hightimes?” Angie asked.
I shoved my hands into my pockets. “How could I not be?” The group home where I’d spent the last part of my childhood couldn’t have been further from Park Avenue. And it was where I’d developed the drive and determination that had me standing right where I was.
