Bound to Be a Groom

by Megan Mulry

  He and Sebastian were the same height and build—strong shoulders tapering to muscled hips—so when the duke pulled Sebastian into a rough hug, Pia had a moment of unexpected excitement. The idea of two men . . . like that . . . would be . . .

  “Quit gawking,” Anna growled.

  “Oh.” Pia looked modestly back to the ground, then decided she was not obliged to look away. Anna might control her when they were intimate, but Pia had no intention of submitting to her every whim. She pulled her hand from Anna’s forearm and crossed her arms defiantly in front of her chest.

  Sebastian was laughing and talking in English with his old friend. They’d become acquainted during the duke’s visit to Spain as a British envoy two years ago, but by the look of their obvious pleasure at reuniting, Pia was beginning to suspect Sebastian and Farleigh had been far more than acquaintances. Or perhaps that was her lust-addled brain playing tricks on her. Still, something about the way their eyes glinted and widened when they spoke to one another put Pia in a heightened sense of awareness.

  “How rude of me!” the duke said in perfect Spanish. He bowed and took Anna’s hand. “You must be Lady Anna de Montizon.” He kissed the back of her glove.

  Anna stiffened and withdrew her hand. Pia smiled inwardly at the prospect that Anna might be experiencing her first pangs of marital jealousy. The duke knit his brows momentarily and then turned his attention to Pia.

  His blue eyes sparkled. “And you are Patrizia Carvajal?”

  “I am, Your Grace.” Pia gave him a small curtsey and dipped her chin.

  “And do you also dislike when a duke kisses your hand?”

  Anna’s nostrils flared, and she walked the few steps to stand by Sebastian.

  “It depends . . .” Pia said with the slightest hint of a smile.

  “On what does it depend, my lady?”

  “On the duke, of course.” She held out her hand as she said it, offering it to him for a kiss. She caught a glimpse of Anna’s stormy expression, and it stirred something rebellious and sensual inside her.

  A few moments later, after the luggage had been secured, the four of them stepped into the duke’s closed carriage. The sheer size of the city was overwhelming enough, but the onslaught of sounds, smells, and streaming, packed humanity had both women staring out the carriage windows with wide, unblinking eyes. From the crowded docks of the Thames Embankment, through the teeming streets near the river, into the loud thoroughfare of Oxford Street, they gaped. As they passed near Bloomsbury, the duke mentioned something called Montagu House, where he promised they would all go visit a treasure of recently acquired artifacts, including the Rosetta Stone and the Townley collection.

  Pia squeezed Anna’s hand for a moment at the idea of so many grand discoveries, and her friend turned to smile in shared wonder.

  “It is truly magnificent, is it not?” Anna asked.

  “It is.” Pia smiled and was glad their wordless squabble at the dock was forgotten. Despite Anna’s intensity and subtlety when she was physically intimate, Pia had always known that her friend was rather a dolt in other ways. Anna was a wonderful listener, but she had to be focused on whomever it was she was listening to; she did not often see the subtle interactions of others unless they were rather glaringly put before her. In Anna’s complete absorption with the city’s splendor, for example, she had completely missed the byplay between her husband and the duke.

  Farleigh and Sebastian were sitting on the rear-facing seat in order to afford the ladies a better view. Ostensibly.

  Pia was now sure the two men simply wanted to sit next to one another so their strong legs and shoulders could jostle together as the carriage made its way through the huge city. The prospect—real or imagined—of those two men being lovers had sent Pia’s already-full mind into a veritable roil.

  Perhaps she had simply become a voluptuary after so many days spent in close confines with Anna and Sebastian, the three of them barely able to keep their hands off one another even in the communal areas of the packet ship. The only time Pia hadn’t felt utterly nauseated was when one or both of them had held her in their arms or touched her with more intimate affection. As a result, maybe everyone with whom she became acquainted would forevermore be reduced to some sort of physical possibility in Pia’s sex-addled brain.

  While Anna continued to stare out the window in silent wonder, Pia tried to steal surreptitious looks at those strong male thighs tightly constrained within finest buckskin. It was blindingly erotic, all that muscle barely disguised beneath a layer of taut leather. As she watched through dipped eyelids, Farleigh’s hand rested casually on Sebastian’s thigh, then squeezed the hard muscle. Pia’s eyes flew up, and both men smiled at her.

  She blushed and looked out the window—caught in the act, as it were. Without thinking much about it, she squeezed Anna’s hand, keeping it in hers as they continued deeper into the city and then on into the green spaces of Mayfair.

  As the carriage drew to a stop in front of an immaculate brick town house on a quiet, leafy lane, Farleigh gave Sebastian a rough slap on the cheek and said, “Come on, old chap!”

  Pia could see Sebastian’s cock twitch in his tight trousers in reaction to that seemingly friendly thwack.

  Oh dear, oh dear. Pia was in a whirl. Anna was staring out the window in amazement. Sebastian was staring at Pia with a knowing look in his eye. He knew she would love . . . what? To watch? To touch? As the two men wrestled one another like a pair of ancient Greek warriors. All that flesh and muscle, rubbing and sliding.

  Oh dear.

  Farleigh peered back into the carriage over Sebastian’s shoulder and asked in elegant Spanish, “Ladies, will you be coming inside then?”

  “Oh!” Anna said. “Is this where we are to stay?” She turned to look at Sebastian, who quickly looked away from Pia.

  “Yes, my love.” Sebastian extended his hand in a courtly manner to assist his wife. “Let me help you from the carriage.” Sebastian took her hand and helped her to the cobbled sidewalk.

  Pia took Farleigh’s extended hand, and the four of them entered through the brightly painted red door that was being held open by a servant splendidly attired in full livery of a matching shade of outrageous red, trimmed in gold.

  Farleigh squeezed Pia’s arm to get her attention. “Would you like a cup of tea or to go to your rooms to freshen up?”

  “I would like to rest, if that’s acceptable. It’s been such a long few days.”

  “Of course. It’s been a long journey. My man will show you up.”

  Pia nodded at the duke, then reached out to kiss Anna on both cheeks and smile at Sebastian. “Until later, my friends.” As Pia followed the butler, she turned at the first landing of the elegant stairway to glance down at the three people in the front hall. Pia had the sense that Anna and Farleigh were about to engage in some sort of biblical battle that would grant the victor eternal power over Sebastian’s beautiful body.

  Farleigh gestured for Anna and Sebastian to precede him into the drawing room.

  “Please, go ahead. I’ll just be a few moments, if it’s not too rude. I’ve something I need to attend to before I join you both for refreshments.”

  “Of course,” Sebastian said easily. “Take all the time you need. Anna and I will be perfectly content until you return.”

  Anna followed Sebastian into the elegant room, and he was startled to hear the latch click shut behind him. He turned quickly to see her standing in front of the closed door. She looked so formidable; even travel weary and exhausted, she projected a coiled power. Sebastian’s heart pounded with each step he took toward her.

  “Do you want him?” Anna asked softly, barely enunciating the words as she brought her fingers to his cheek.

  For a moment, his eyes closed in pleasure when her palm caressed his face. Then he looked at her, taking her measure, and spoke carefully while he leaned into her comforting touch. “Somehow I don’t think you will have the same reaction I did when I asked you a si
milar question about Pia in the library at Badajoz.”

  Anna furrowed her brow and looked down at the lovely tea that had been laid out on a spindly round table to her right. “You have trapped me.”

  Sebastian took her hand away from his cheek and held it in his. “How, my love? I have never done anything to trap you. I thought I offered you every freedom.”

  She looked like she might cry.

  “Do you fancy a turn in the garden?” Sebastian asked. “Perhaps we should speak alone.”

  When she looked up into his eyes, he was taken aback to see the most supplicating emotion emanating from deep within his powerful, dominating lover. He realized in that moment that regardless of her fervor in bed—or maybe because of it—she appeared to be quite ill prepared for emotional intensity.

  Sebastian released her hand as he reached to open the door to the hall. “Farleigh?” Sebastian called.

  The duke turned from the conversation he was having with one of his subordinates and replied, “Yes? Do you have everything? I’ll be there in a moment—”

  “No, no. The tea looks splendid, but Anna and I wish to take a turn in the garden. Will you excuse us?”

  “Of course, of course,” Farleigh said with a deep voice and an accommodating nod. “Fresh air is what you need after your journey. The doors are unlocked, and it is a lovely afternoon. Take your time.”

  He returned his attention to the servant without a further glance, and Sebastian pulled the door shut to afford them more privacy.

  “Shall we sit here or do you fancy a bit of fresh air in earnest?” he asked.

  “Perhaps we should take a turn outside,” Anna said on a sigh. “The softness of that silk sofa puts me in a mind to ravage you, and I think I must do the hard thing for once and speak my mind rather than indulge my senses.” She smoothed the fabric of her practical traveling gown, then reached out for Sebastian’s hand. “Come, my pet.”

  He did not take her hand but reached out slowly and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling into her neck and pulling her close. “I am happy to indulge your senses after you speak your mind . . .”

  She moaned into him, both of them responding to the pressure of his erection against the softness of her belly. “You are so lovely, Sebastian. But after.” She set him away from her and slid her hand onto his forearm. “Please take me round the gardens.”

  He opened the French doors that led to a surprisingly large walled garden behind the house. The enclosure had been cleverly designed to create hidden spaces within tall walls of greenery. A willow tree created a verdant cave. A pergola dripping in ancient lilacs offered another secret meeting place. Sebastian kept leading her away from the house. A large pine tree, gnarled and thick limbed, concealed a small bench that faced a charming little waterfall at the back corner of the garden. The small trickle of water cascaded endlessly into some sort of fountain that had been made to look like a mossy, rocky riverbed.

  “How’s this?” Sebastian asked, pulling aside a pine branch so Anna could duck and take a seat.

  “Lovely,” Anna said as she sat down on the bench.

  “Yes, it is. Now—” Sebastian sat beside her and turned her chin to face him. “—tell me what you are thinking.”

  “It sounds so hypocritical. I’m not sure I can say it out loud without hating myself a little.” She looked up to the sky—or what remained of it through the shady pine branches—and Sebastian couldn’t resist trailing his finger along her neck.

  “I adore you, Anna. You know that, don’t you? I will do whatever you wish.”

  She turned slowly to look at him. “Tell me your true feelings.”

  “I love you.” He spoke the words without hesitation.

  She shook her head and stared at the pine needles beneath her feet. “That’s not what I mean.”

  “Look at me, Anna.” When she didn’t respond, he added a quiet, “Please.”

  She looked at him but stayed silent.

  “Are you asking if I have feelings for Farleigh?”

  She firmed her lips but made no move to answer.

  He waited her out.

  Finally, she whispered, “Yes, that’s what I’m asking.”

  He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I do.”

  “Oh God.” Anna looked toward the main part of the garden, twisting her body away from him as if she might be able to escape if she stretched hard enough.

  “Anna?”

  “Yes?” she answered, without turning to look at him.

  “I don’t need to act on it. I was being honest because, well, I always am honest with you. I don’t know how else to be.”

  She turned then, and he finally saw the depth of affection in her eyes—all calculation and hesitancy gone, with only pure love remaining. He wanted so much to pull her against him, but he knew she was still battling her own feelings, or coming to admit them at last.

  “I will do whatever you wish where Farleigh is concerned.” He almost laughed at the idea. “Really, you must know that I will do whatever you wish where anyone is concerned. Don’t you see that?”

  “Oh dear. I hear your words, but I cannot quite grasp the truth of them.”

  “It seems I am forever convincing you of my honest intentions.”

  She reached for him—finally, it felt to him—and he pressed his hand over hers where it lay against his pounding heart. Keeping her close.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before now?” she asked, sounding almost hurt.

  “What was there to tell? That I had a bit of a romp with a man. Would it have shocked you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m selfish, not a hypocrite. I don’t care that you were with a man—I can hardly have a thing to say on that score, given my own history with Pia. But . . . your feelings are something else entirely. Perhaps it is that I now find myself a guest in his house that I am at a disadvantage. It seems like I should have known beforehand.”

  He sighed. “Truly, I was quite certain the spark had died out. But . . .” He looked at her lips and her cheeks, then back into her eyes. “But it seems he still stirs something in me.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing, Anna. Just because I have a frisson of renewed attraction to someone I once knew in that way, does not mean I am untrue. Or ever will be. I will always be loyal to you. In fact, if you would rather we stay elsewhere, at a hotel perhaps—”

  “No . . . I . . . just give me a moment to collect my thoughts. It’s not jealousy, precisely.”

  “Then what is it? Whatever it is, I don’t want you to feel the least discomfort.”

  Anna’s forehead drew together in concentration. She was absently rubbing his chest, smoothing the fabric of his jacket, while she appeared to be clicking through the possibilities in her mind. “I’m curious,” she said slowly. Sebastian held his tongue, unsure if she was going to ask the type of brazen question she was wont to ask—namely, how was the sex?—or if she was going to talk about her own feelings on the matter. “So . . . if I said I was . . . it was . . . fine with me . . . if you made love to Farleigh again . . . then you would?”

  A bit of both, he thought with a smile—her feelings, his sex. Her boldness in stating it outright sent a flush up his neck and cheeks. “Only if you were completely at ease with it, my love,” he answered at last, when he realized she was waiting for his reply.

  “And if I asked you not to?”

  “Then I would not.” He said it so quickly and with such conviction, there was no way either of them could deny the truth of it.

  “But you would never ask me to give up Pia . . .”

  He narrowed his eyes. “The thought would never cross my mind. It’s true, I would never ask such a thing of you.”

  “So then . . .” She looked so adorably flustered. “Why . . . how can you be so free with me?”

  Sebastian laughed, low and almost to himself. He looked at the ground, then at his hand over hers. “Because your happiness is my happiness,” he said softly. T
he truth of it filled him with a thick, hot desire.

  “Oh my.”

  He looked into her eyes. “And if my being with Farleigh—as lovers or in any other capacity—would make you unhappy, then that would make me unhappy, too.”

  “I am so confused. I don’t want to be so selfish. But, oh, I am the most selfish creature!” She clamped her small hand into a fist and punched her own thigh. “I would worry.” The tears came then.

  “Oh, my dear,” Sebastian reached to touch her neck, and she used her shoulder to shake off his offered comfort, as if she were not worthy of his kindness. He put his hands back in his lap. “What would you worry about?”

  “That he would do things for you . . . ” Anna stumbled over the words. “That he . . . is better . . . that he has things . . . the thing . . . I cannot provide . . .”

  “Oh, my love!” Sebastian pulled her into a hard hug, despite her resistance.

  She tugged at his hair and pulled his head down to hers. Her lips were harsh and punishing against his soft ones. She bit and tore at his mouth, as if she wanted to mark it permanently as hers. “You are mine,” she growled, pulling his hair harder until he moaned in blissful agreement.

  She reached between them, and he felt the resistance of his erection against her palm. “Undo your trousers,” she ordered.

  He pulled away and had the buttons undone in mere seconds. He dropped to his knees, the blanket of pine needles cushioning him. “How do you want me, Anna?”

  She put two fingers in his mouth, and he sucked them desperately, his eyes barely open, his tongue twirling around.

  “I want you inside me,” she whispered.

  Sebastian almost came right then. His eyes flew open. “Are you sure? What has changed your mind?” He continued kissing the palm of her hand, then along her wrist.