To Refuse a Rake

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To Refuse a Rake Page 14

by Kristin Vayden


  When it was finally time, Emma took a deep breath before entering the hall where Hudson waited with the vicar. Sadie was already ahead of her, along with Lenore, and now, it was her moment. The doors opened and she took her first step, then another before glancing up to find Hudson’s gaze. Even from the back of the hall, his chocolate eyes were full of emotion and amazement. If she had never seen herself in the mirror that day, his expression spoke volumes of how he saw her as beautiful and breathtaking. All the things Sadie had foretold.

  The hall was full. Word had spread that Lord Daventry had melted the resolve of her intention to remain a spinster, and the ton wanted a glimpse for themselves. All the hundred invitations sent out on short notice had been returned with affirmative responses. Even now, the thought brought a smile to Emma’s face. But the thought was only a flicker in the midst of a million emotions all overtaking her as she walked toward the front. Hudson’s gaze never wavered, but he shifted as if striving to remain in place, not rush to her side and claim her. Emma felt a wicked smirk tilt her lips and she slowed her steps, prolonging the moment and surely provoking Hudson.

  As if reading her intentions, Hudson’s eyebrow rose in challenge as a devilish expression overtook his features.

  Unable to stand it any longer, Emma increased her pace to an almost impolite speed and soon she was standing beside Hudson, gazing into the warm chocolate of his gaze.

  “You’ll pay for that later,” Hudson whispered as he leaned forward to kiss her hand.

  “I have no doubt.” Emma quirked an eyebrow.

  The service was over quickly and soon they were on their way to the wedding breakfast. Upon entering the carriage, Hudson pulled her onto his lap and began to kiss her earnestly and with unbridled need. His powerful hands soon had caressed each inch of her accessible through the fabric of the dress. Emma returned his attention, plunging her hands into his hair and pulling him deeper into a searing kiss.

  “We, we must wait… the breakfast. We’re expected.” Emma gasped as Hudson’s lips left hers and trailed hot kisses down her neck and lower until he was pulling at the bodice of her gown.

  “Hang the breakfast,” Hudson murmured against her flesh.

  “I don’t think that—” Emma’s words were cut off when Hudson captured them with a searing kiss, causing her to completely forget her train of thought.

  The carriage stopped, causing Hudson to pause in his lavish attentions. He gazed up at Emma, a hungry passion dancing in his eyes. Emma fought to catch her breath; her body would surely catch on fire from such a gaze!

  “Fifteen minutes.” Hudson growled as he closed his eyes and visibly tried to calm himself.

  “Ten,” Emma replied as she traced the line of his jaw.

  “Five. Only five. Five minutes in the hell that is that breakfast and then we leave. Agreed?” Hudson’s gaze sent shivers of delightful anticipation through her.

  “Agreed.”

  As much as Emma wanted to leave after the agreed upon five minutes, it quickly came and went. Then ten minutes passed. She kept casting hopeless glances at Hudson, but neither of them seemed able to find a way of leaving without causing a dramatic scene. After thirty minutes, she saw Hudson make his way across the room, wearing a determined gaze and walking with a purposeful step that caused others to give him a wide berth. Emma’s belly swirled with anticipation. He was finished; he was coming to claim her. With a mighty bow, he took her hand and led her to the floor. He glanced at the orchestra and they began a waltz. Emma gave him curious look but played along. Surely it was strange to waltz at this moment!

  “Trust me.” Hudson whispered in her ear.

  Soon Lenore and Lord Hewett joined the waltz with them, leading to a flood of people taking the dance floor beside them.

  “Now,” Hudson commanded softly and began to dance toward the side of the room. When they reached the edge he slowed his steps and squeezed her hand. Swiftly, he led her to a side room that opened to a side entrance. Their carriage waited and Emma paused. Turning to Hudson she reached up and gave him a searing kiss of intense gratitude.

  “My thoughts exactly,” she whispered against his lips.

  ****

  Hudson counted the stairs to his London town home, knowing precisely that he had five steps left until he could slam the door on the world and captivate his wife without further interruption. It had been the longest morning of his life, and if his body were any more aroused, he would yell in frustration. Already he was clenching his teeth as he took the final two steps.

  “Mine, you are officially, irrevocably mine.” Hudson almost growled the words before sweeping Emma’s inviting form into his arms and leaping up the remaining stairs two at a time. Upon entering his room, he strode purposefully to the bed and set down her feminine frame onto the mattress. The soft bed bent slightly under her. He wanted to cover her, be the weight on top of her, pressing her into the soft fullness of the bed and driving his name from her berry lips!

  With herculean effort, he took a step back and collected his thoughts. As much as he simply wanted to possess her, he knew she was an innocent and this would be her first experience at making love. He was determined that it be beyond anything she could imagine. Yet, he silently groaned at the fortitude required for him to restrain himself so fully. But she was worth it, and such was love. Because as much as he wanted her body, he adored, loved every part that made Emma, his wife. Her needs, wants, desires easily conquered his own and with that realization firmly in place, he felt his heartbeat slow to a steady, determined pace as he made his way to where Emma waited, watching him.

  “Emma. My wife.” Hudson spoke the words with reverence as moved toward her. Her eyes widened before darkening with passion and arousal. “Mine,” Hudson vowed as he leaned close, placing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

  Emma let out a slightly shaky breath and Hudson paused. Was she frightened? Never had it occurred to him that she would be frightened. He leaned back, gazing into her eyes and searching them for an answer.

  “Emma, are you…” He paused. “Emma, my love, you have no reason to be afraid,” he whispered tenderly, cupping her face in his hand and savoring her soft skin’s texture.

  “Afraid?” Emma asked. Confusion clouded her expression.

  “Yes, you have nothing—”

  “I’m not afraid. But I am…” She paused, glancing down as if embarrassed.

  A rose blush covered her enticing face and Hudson’s body tightened even further.

  “I’m afraid I’m simply, impatient.” Emma glanced up with a sheepish expression.

  Hudson felt his face break into a wide grin. “Then you shall wait no longer.” With lithe movements, Hudson pressed her into the soft mattress while caressing her lips with his own, teasing them with his tongue but not giving what he now knew she craved. No. He would build up the anticipation until she cried out for him, until her only thought was desire, and until his name was possessed by her surrender.

  Methodically, he pressed into her, savoring the sensation of her soft form beneath his. He deepened the kiss, plundering her mouth with his tongue and devouring the flavor of her sweet kiss with a growing passion. He felt his control slipping and he held to his last shreds of restraint and released her, slowly leaning back until he stood. With his gaze fixed on her wide, desire-laced expression, he began to undress, slowly and with precision so that her eyes could take their fill. Though his intention was to inspire further desire in her, he found himself influenced by the same spell. When he stood before her unclothed, he reached out his hand, beckoning her to rise.

  Emma stood and when he motioned for her to turn, she obeyed readily. Her flesh was searing in its heat as he began to kiss her neck while undressing her. Soon all that remained was a thin camisole. Hudson pulled her back against him tightly, teasing her, all the while unpinning her hair. The pins made a slight clink as they hit the floor, and soon he was tracing her belly with his almost shaking hands. Slowly, he lifted the light fabr
ic. She trembled as his hands caressed her belly and higher, taking in her entire shape before tossing the clothing to the floor.

  With a deep breath, Hudson reached around and caressed her skin, savoring the weight of her flesh and kneading it with his hands. She gasped and her breath started to come in short gasps. Hudson traced down her ribs to her hips, splaying his hands over them and pressing them into his form. He couldn’t suppress a groan of desire as his blood roared in his ears in response. Slowly, he traced his hands down her hips until he removed all that remained.

  “I love you.” Hudson spoke the words reverently, for there was nothing more holy or true. He loved her with every fiber of his vibrating being.

  “I love you, too,” Emma responded, sending a shot of heat through Hudson.

  “Turn around.” Hudson gently commanded in her ear as she stood with her back against him, completely naked.

  Emma didn’t hesitate, but turned and immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hot and explosively searing kiss. Hudson didn’t pause, but pressed her backward until she stepped against the bed. With swift movements, he tore the blankets away and lifted his wife onto the mattress, immediately covering her, burning with heat where his skin touched hers. Her soft skin, even hotter than his own, made his body tremble with the need to touch every inch. He shook as he struggled to rein in his desire. Her eyes glazed with passion as she moved against him. Her gaze was hungry, mirroring his own desire.

  “Hudson.” She gasped as her hands roamed over his flesh, at first tentative then with growing force as she was pulled him closer until he felt the incompleteness of their union like a branding iron to his body. He tried to take it slowly and memorize each sensation and the delicate and addictive flavor of her skin. When he began to kiss lower and lower she bucked beneath him with a passionate gasp. Hudson’s control snapped.

  “I love you, I need you—” Without further delay he thoroughly claimed his wife, savoring the sensation of truly making love.

  Emma gasped at first, and Hudson hesitated, but soon she found her own rhythm. Hudson marveled at the power of it all. Never had intimacy been so consuming, so passionate! His body hummed in accord with hers until they were no longer two, but united as one. Fulfilling his earlier promise, he was indeed thorough, deliberate, and the last thing he heard before succumbing to his own desire was his name claimed by his wife in her own surrender.

  Epilogue

  “Hudson! It’s finally in Lady Bea’s Paper!” Emma shouted as she read the article that was just a further description of the news that surrounded every social event. “It says here:

  ‘She had mistakenly entered the Earl of Shifton’s room, thinking it was her own. After she disrobed, she climbed in bed only to find the bed occupied, with the earl and his countess! She screamed, the countess screamed and rumor has it, the earl screamed along with them. Lady Alton left the room in nothing but her camisole. It is unlikely that Lady Alton will be finishing out the season in London as rumor also has it that she has retired to the country for a while.’

  Can you believe it?” Emma giggled.

  As she watched Hudson striding across the room, she replayed all the many events of the past few weeks. Lady Alton’s scandal was only slightly more well-known than the shock that had spread across the ton when she and Hudson had put the special license to good use and married with little fanfare. The wedding had taken place only three days after the famed house party of Lady Linden. Three days had been far too long in Emma’s opinion. Indeed, even now she wondered how she had survived so many years thinking love was hopeless. Hudson had shown and continued to show her just how wrong she was, and she would never grow tired of such a reminder.

  “Mercifully, there’s nothing about the earlier escapade where she tried to invade Lord and Lady Hewett’s room! Lenore would have died of mortification!” Emma shook her head.

  “Is there anything about the scandalous Lord and Lady Daventry?” Hudson asked with a wicked grin.

  “Thankfully, no.”

  “And here I thought my seduction of you would at least warrant a mention in the gossip papers,” Hudson teased.

  “You always did think too highly of yourself.” Emma quipped.

  Hudson’s strong arms wrapped around her, immediately searing her with warmth and igniting hungry passion.

  “Are you done?” Hudson spoke hotly in Emma’s ear as he reached around and plucked the paper from her hand and tossed it onto the table.

  “Apparently so,” Emma teased, leaning back into her husband’s embrace.

  “Brilliant. You know, we do have a few hours ‘til we’re expected at your sister’s…” Hudson’s voice trailed off as he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth, sending delicious shivers down her spine.

  “Indeed, how ever will we fill those long, tedious hours ‘til my sister’s engagement party?” Emma giggled. She was thrilled for her sister, the soon-to-be Duchess of Longton! But Hudson nibbled her skin and erased all other thoughts. Emma reached back to tug on her husband’s reddish and raven locks.

  “I can think of a few… activities that would be sublimely diverting,” Hudson murmured against her neck then proceeded to tease her flesh with his tongue.

  “Can you, now?” Emma spoke breathlessly, a slow anticipation burning within her. Surely she would never sate the hungry desire for her husband!

  “Indeed.” Hudson leaned down and swept Emma into his arms. With a hot and passionate kiss, he paused and teased her. As his tongue swept over her lips and dipped into her mouth, Emma melted further into his embrace.

  When Hudson broke the seal of their lips and began to carry her up the stairs to their chamber, Emma leaned in and whispered in his ear. “Kiss me, Hudson. Please, please kiss me,” she whispered the words that she swore she’d never say, yet were the very words that had set her free. The very words that had given her all her heart desired, even when she didn’t know what it was.

  “I’ll never tire of hearing that.” Hudson opened their door and closed it quickly behind them. In a few strides he was to their bed. Immediately he laid Emma down and covered her with his solid frame. Again the intensity of their passion built inside of her such a smoldering fire that she was sure she would be consumed!

  For indeed, as Hudson once again ignited and sated her every desire, the greatest gift he gave her was the truth.

  A soft breeze blew through the open window and ruffled the pages of Emma’s journal on her writing desk. But the lovers, absorbed in one another, didn’t notice.

  Love is a risk, but fools aren’t the ones who risk it. The true fools are those who refused the gift. You can refuse a rake, but if he is sincerely after your heart, his love will overcome any walls you build around yourself. For if one thing is true, never say never, because that is when love happens.

  Other books by Kristin Vayden:

  Redeeming the Deception of Grace

  Living London

  Pursued

  Surviving Scotland

  Coming Soon:

  Beyond Broken

  The Viking: An Epic Romance

  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.

  Also by Kristin Vayden

  Surviving Scotland

  Chapter One

  The sound of a gentle wind blowing through the trees stirred me from my dreams. The fresh scent of heather and wet grass tickled my senses, and the sun warmed my face. Taking in a deep cleansing breath, I tried to remember the last time that London had smelled so clean and fresh. The sound of birds chirping and crickets singing almost lulled me back into peaceful slumber, but something crawled across my hand, and I bolted upright, shaking off the offendi
ng insect.

  The light was overly bright and I blinked, trying to focus, but it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. As I waited for my vision to clear, my mind started to shake off its sleep-induced passivity and actively began to question the strange sounds and smells.

  I gasped as I considered my surroundings. Gone were my bed, fireplace, sitting room, and home. Gone was the bustling city of London with its smoke and vile air. Gone was everything familiar. In its place was soft, loamy soil with emerald green grass, tall trees that pointed to the heavens, and colorful gentle heather that graced the meadow I had been sleeping in.

  Taking in a deep breath I realized belatedly that I could breathe easily, and I gazed down concerned at my lack of corset. Rather than wearing my usual attire, I was clothed in loose stays under a homespun shift. A patterned length of cloth draped over my shoulders. The blue and red plaid was woolen and warm, effectively eliminating the morning chill. I lifted my hands to touch my hair and found that it was still in a plait from the night before; at least I thought that it was the night before. I began to question my sanity.

  The sound of beating hooves shook me from my stupor, and I stood and glanced about for a place to hide. As I ducked behind a tree that was covered with ample brush, I peeked through the twisted branches to see who approached. Three men dismounted and began speaking in thick Scottish brogues.

  The tallest one began to search the edge of the meadow and quickly spotted me. I was captivated by his dark, wavy hair, which was accented by tanned skin. But what held my attention were his legs; they were bare. He wore a type of skirt — a kilt actually. I had read about them, but hadn’t realized they would have left so much of a man’s legs exposed. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Tall socks covered his calves and were tied up with thin pieces of leather that matched his boots. His torso was covered with a homespun shirt that opened at the chest. The rest of his kilt, or perhaps it was a tartan, was wrapped around his chest at an angle. As my gaze lifted to his face, I noticed he was staring at me.

 

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