Romancing the Rogue

by Kim Bowman

  With hesitation, Grace began to follow his lead and kissed him back.

  Ewan reached his hands around her and pressed the small of her back, guiding her into a closer embrace that left no space between them. Reaching up, he lost himself in the long tresses he had unbound earlier and thrilled at their weight and texture. Each caress of her tongue, and nip at his lips brought Ewan closer to the point of breaking, but with each moment, his resolve seemed to firm further.

  This was no passing fancy, no hidden rendezvous. This was Grace, and it was love. And as much as he wanted to reach down and pick her up, to carry her to a secluded corner and make her his in every way, he restrained himself.

  Gently he broke the kiss, savoring the taste of her lips, a flavor all her own teasing his senses. Looking down into her green eyes, he swore to never forget the look of passion in the smolder of her eyes and swell of her lips.

  I’m the cause of her heated gaze; I am the one who christened her lips, he thought with triumph. Silently he vowed he would be the only one to do that to her, no one else. Which left only one question.

  “Grace?” he whispered as he leaned down and lightly brushed her swollen lips with his own, reveling in their softness.

  “Ewan.” Her voice was husky with desire.

  Ewan couldn’t suppress the groan as he felt himself once again burn with desire. Closing his eyes to calm himself, he took a deep breath. “Grace, love.”

  She looked up, waiting.

  “Do you think…?” He paused, searching for the perfect words, not wanting to rush through without thinking. “Would you ever consider…?”

  ~~~~

  Grace waited expectantly, holding her breath. What was he asking? Could he truly be considering marriage? To her? She couldn’t believe it, wouldn’t believe it until her she heard the words.

  With exaggerated motions Ewan reached up and smoothed her hair away from her face, trailing his finger down her face causing Grace to close her eyes.

  “I love you,” he whispered. Grace’s eyes shot open as she searched his for confirmation of his words within their depths.

  “I love you, Grace. I don’t know when I started. It might have been when you were five and I put a frog in your bed.” He chuckled at the memory as he continued to trace lines down her face. “Or perhaps it was when you lied to your father and as a result caused me to suffer the worst punishment of my life.” He traced her lips with his finger, causing them to burn with an exquisite pleasure. “Or maybe I was simply born to love you and was too ignorant to realize it until I almost lost you.” His hand stilled on her lip. “But it’s true, and my heart is yours, only yours.”

  He trailed his fingers down to her chest and placed his palm on her heart as he reached with his other hand and placed her hand upon his heart as well. “It beats for you.” He moved her hand up to his mouth. “I breathe for you,” he whispered as he kissed her fingertips one by one. “I live for you, Grace.” The clarity in his blue eyes conveyed his sincerity. “Grant me life, Grace, be my wife, because my heart will surely cease to beat without you.” He searched her eyes with a vulnerability Grace was humbled to discover.

  “Yes,” Grace whispered, hardly able to believe she was being asked.

  With a blue fire burning in his gaze, Ewan leaned down to find life in his love’s kiss.

  Grace melted into Ewan’s embrace and returned his affections unabashedly. Feeling free in her love for Ewan, she unleashed her careful control and kissed him with all the love in her heart. She was unable to get close enough to him as he pressed his body against hers. She couldn’t kiss him deep enough nor long enough. Just as Ewan braced her against the wall, she heard the door to the hall open. Breaking apart from their heated embrace, she saw her father blink, then smile and clear his throat in effort to hide his amusement.

  Before Grace could find her voice, Ewan spoke first.

  “She’s ruined me, sir. I demand she marry me at once,” he called loudly to her father, earning a laugh that quickly turned into a cough.

  “I see, well, Grace, you must do the proper thing and marry him. Make an honest man of him, you know…” The uncomfortable smile her father gave them caused Grace to grin in amusement. Of all the wicked things to say, Ewan had come up with a clever remark indeed!

  “I’ll marry him, but as for being honest — well, that we’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Ahh, always my pretty little liar, hmm?” he teased as he brazenly nipped her ear as he whispered the words.

  “Who’s the liar now?” She shivered in response to his gentle tugging on her earlobe.

  “Um, well, I’ll expect to see you two in exactly five minutes. Understood?” Her father called as he left them alone once more.

  “I imagined him to be a bit more upset in finding me in such a compromising position,” Grace mused as she watched her father retreat.

  “Ah, well, I did already speak with him and secure his permission for your hand. I can’t say he was all too surprised, which in turn did surprise me,” Ewan admitted with a wry grin.

  Looking up into his glorious face, she couldn’t help but reach up and trace the outline of his jaw with her gloved finger.

  “I’ve ruined you, hmm?” She continued to caress his face then tugged at his hair as he groaned.

  “Not exactly in the manner one would assume, although I’ve yet to be compromised by you in that sense.” His eyes were smoldering as he took in her hungry gaze. “You’ve utterly ruined me for anyone else but you, Grace,” he whispered, kissing her nose ever so lightly before rubbing it with his.

  “Plus,” he added, leaning back and gaining a teasing glint in his eye, “I had to find a way to redeem your sinful soul,” he teased as he leaned down and placed a lingering kiss to her lips.

  “Save my soul? This coming from a rake of the first order.”

  “Reformed rake,” he corrected.

  “You had better be…” she half-threatened.

  “Oh, believe me, I’m reformed, but back to the saving of your blackened soul…” He poked her pert nose with the tip of his finger.

  “Ah yes, how could I forget?”

  “After all, you did lie to your father about me over ten years ago…” He trailed off as he leaned down to kiss her again. “In effort to get rid of me,” he mumbled between kisses.

  “It didn’t work,” she murmured as she leaned forward to meet his kiss once again.

  “Ahh, and now you see the truth of my statement. I lied as well, and by saying you ruined me, I get to keep you… forever. And therefore, I redeemed your sinful soul by correcting the mistake of your youth.” Ewan leaned back but bound his strong arms around Grace’s waist holding her firm in his grasp.

  “My, my. Aren’t you the holy one tonight?” Grace replied dryly as she reached up and wound her arms around his neck.

  “Oh, I’m holy tonight, love, but very, very soon…” His eyes were hooded with desire as he leaned forward and nipped her ear before he continued, whispering the next words into her ear. “Soon I’ll be exceedingly wicked.” He kissed her passionately then, using his teeth to nip at her lower lip and then sucking it before he branded her with his tongue, evoking the most delicious sensations within Grace.

  A knock sounded on the door, and Ewan pulled back. “That would be your father,” he said, his breathing labored as his eyes roamed over her face and his arms continued to hold her tight.

  “I believe we have an announcement to make.” Grace smiled up at her husband-to-be, full of joy.

  “Indeed we do.” He reached out and grasped Grace’s hand as they walked to the door.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  Grace snuggled into the warmth her husband provided as she drifted back into the sweet bliss of sleep.

  “Good morning, love,” Evan mumbled as he teased the side of her face with a caress before leaning in and placing a warm and inviting kiss on her cheek.

  “It’s not morning yet.” Grace said, keeping her
eyes closed. Once again, she thought how she wanted to stay in her husband’s arms forever, never leaving them. Although if she were honest, during the past year she hadn’t left them often, which her delicate condition proved.

  ~~~~

  “Seems the sun is mistaken,” Evan teased as he gently moved his arm around his wife pulling her even closer into the curve of his body. Her scent and profound softness never ceased to awaken the insatiable desire he couldn’t extinguish, even with last night’s lovemaking. He smiled, thrilled to know that it would always be that way. Never could he have enough of her luscious body or fiery spirit. As his arm caressed her growing belly he smiled as he felt the slightest of kick to his palm.

  “Gregory knows…” Evan teased, waiting for Grace’s certain reply.

  “No, Georgiana knows.” She corrected, turning over to face her husband and grinning in response to the mischief in his eyes.

  “Regardless…” Evan smiled as his eyes roamed over his cherished wife’s features. “It’s Christmas, and he — or she,” he added at his wife’s raised eyebrow, “knows that today is special. It’s the day of magic, is it not?” Evan asked as he took a silken threat of his wife’s golden hair and ticked her nose with it, earning a light swat at his hand.

  “It is indeed a day of magic.” Grace caressed his face with her hand, once again marveling at the bristly texture of his skin from his dark stubble.

  “How are you feeling?” Ewan asked, concerned as ever over her condition.

  “Sleepy. In fact, I think I’ll just lie here and let you take care of the day’s festivities…” She rolled over and grinned as she waited for her husband’s reaction.

  “Oh no you don’t!” He pulled her back against him, holding her captive in the strength of his arms. “The last time you tried that, I was left with the responsibility of picking parlor games and refreshments. One of the more awkward moments of my life, thank you very much.”

  “Whit thought it was funny.” Grace giggled at her husband’s expense.

  “He would be sure to find any situation that caused me discomfort hilarious. He wouldn’t let me forget it about it for a month.”

  “Only because you didn’t realize that brandy wasn’t considered a refreshment, at least for ladies.”

  “That was a mistake! I said that I needed brandy, not Lady Specter.”

  “Yes, well her expression was amusing when she was handed a glass and told it was requested especially for her.”

  “In my defense, I haven’t seen a lady drink brandy that liberally since…”

  “That’s enough. I don’t want to know any details of your past,” Grace interrupted, putting her bare fingers over his mouth. “It’s doesn’t matter, what matters is that you’re mine now.”

  ~~~~

  “Indeed I am,” Ewan said reverently as Grace removed her fingers from his lips.

  “And you’re mine.” He pushed Grace onto her back and hovered over her, careful to not put any pressure on her swollen belly.

  “Mine and mine alone,” he whispered against her lips as he kissed them teasingly, knowing his wife would be expecting and wanting more. With a hungry tenacity he took his wife’s lips with his own, fiercely demanding her response and fully receiving it.

  “We’ll be late.” Grace spoke between kisses.

  “Hang it all,” Ewan mumbled against her soft lips, as he attempted to remove any clothing his wife had foolishly donned.

  “But it is our house party,” Grace said but made no move to end their passionate exchange.

  “It’s only Rachel and Shiply. I doubt they’ll even be on time. They were only recently married themselves.” Ewan growled as he began to do far more than exchange kisses with his wife.

  A few hours later at dinner, Ewan glanced at his wife and shared an amused smile. For indeed Shiply and Rachel had been quite late.

  About the Author

  Kristin Vayden is a stay-at-home mom of five children. Her inspiration for the romance she writes comes from her tall, dark and handsome husband with killer blue eyes. When she’s not writing, she loves to make soap, sauerkraut, sourdough bread, and gluten free muffins. Life is full of blessings and she praises God for the blessed and abundant life He’s given her.

  Other books by Kristin Vayden:

  To Refuse a Rake

  Living London

  Pursued

  Surviving Scotland

  Beyond Broken

  The Only Reason for the London Season (free!)

  What the Duke Wants

  To Tempt An Earl

  The Forsaken Love of a Lord

  Coming Soon:

  The Viking: An Epic Romance

  Whispered Lies

  Something Like a Lady

  by Kay Springsteen and Kim Bowman

  Prologue

  Sprowston Hall near Norwich

  Norfolk, England

  September, 1799

  “Come along, Annabella, time for your afternoon lessons.” Miss Lucy spoke in her strictest governess voice, but the smile on her wrinkled face matched the twinkle in her eyes.

  A small black slate rested on the round table near the fireplace. Miss Lucy liked to work there, said she needed the heat to warm her bones. Annabella didn’t know if it warmed her bones or not, but it did make her sleepy and that made the lessons hard to finish.

  Annabella stood and began to shuffle across the room but stopped. “I need a moment,” she said, racing back to the window. She simply had to check one more time. Holding her breath, she pressed her face hard against the glass. There it was. A cloud of dust in the distance. Excitement made her heart race. “Papa…” she whispered.

  It had to be. This time it just had to be her father coming home. Mama had said to expect him soon. How long had he been gone this time? Annabella had lost count of the days.

  The dust obscured the coach as it traveled the long drive to the house. But then the sunlight flashed on shiny mahogany. “It is Papa’s coach!” Annabella leapt from the window seat and raced across the nursery floor.

  “Annabella!” called Miss Lucy as she exited the room.

  Heart thumping, she ran along the hallway to the main staircase then down the marble steps to the foyer. Papa, Papa, Papa. It’s Papa. He’s come home. Her feet slipped along the polished black and white marble tiles, but she didn’t fall.

  She couldn’t wait to throw her arms around Papa’s neck as he lifted her in the air. He would smell of his favorite pipe tobacco and mint. And he would have sugar-stick candy in his vest pocket, even though he would pretend he hadn’t remembered to bring any.

  “Annabella!” said her mother in that soft but stern tone.

  She knew she should stop.

  But it was Papa’s coach. “Papa’s home!” No time for further explanation — and none would be needed. Surely this time her mother would be just as excited as she. Papa had been gone much longer than usual. With scarcely a pause, she continued her mad dash. A startled footman opened the door, his movements jerky and uncertain.

  “Annabella!” Her mother’s voice sharpened. “Please conduct yourself like a proper young lady.”

  The admonition followed Annabella through the door, but her mother did not. She always waited inside, bemoaning Annabella’s unladylike behavior when she dashed outside instead of waiting for her father to enter the house.

  The coach had stopped at the bottom of the long staircase. Annabella’s slippers slapped against the slate steps as she galloped down to meet it. A footman held open the carriage door.

  Miss Lucy had explained about nobility and taught Annabella that her father was Bernard Lambert Price, Third Baronet of Kedelston. But to Annabella, he was just Papa.

  A familiar face peered from the carriage, and then Papa unfolded himself through the door. Thick nut-brown hair fell across his forehead. The light breeze ruffled his curls, but he didn’t reach for his hat. Instead, he looked around, and his eyes lit up when his gaze swept over Annabella.

  “Hello
, my girl!” He opened his arms just as she reached him and used her momentum to lift her high in the air.

  Squealing with delight, Annabella wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Papa! I’ve missed you so!”

  Her father chuckled as he hugged her and then set her on her feet again. “And I’ve missed you, Lady Annabella. But what’s this?” He held her away from him and looked her over. “Have you grown since I left?” His rich baritone warmed her heart. Maybe he would tell her stories of his travels before bed. He’d been simply everywhere in the world. And one day, she planned to go with him.

  “Did you bring it, Papa? Did you bring my sugar-stick candy?”

  “Oh…” A frown creased his forehead. “I knew I was forgetting something when I came through London.”

  Patience wavering, Annabella stomped her foot. “Papa!”

  He chuckled softly then cleared his throat as he pushed aside his brown tailcoat and patted his pockets. A tender smile widened his lips, and he withdrew a slender object.

  It wasn’t candy but something even better. “A present!”

  With a little flourish, Papa shook his hand and the object magically unfolded into a fan. Crafted of silk, in a pleasant shade of Egyptian blue, narrow ivory lace lined the edge. A spray of pink and orange flowers had been painted in the middle.

  “Papa… it’s beautiful.” Her fingers ached to touch it. “Did you bring it home for Mama?”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “This is yours, my little lady. I was in a far off land called Japan when I saw this in one of the marketplaces there. I thought of you and knew I must bring it home with me.”