Lord Stanton's Last Mistress

by Lara Temple

  The kiss that silenced her was hard, deep, possessing her in a way none of his kisses had before. She lost all track of her fears and rationalisations. She was just Christina with the man she wanted, loved, needed. When he finally raised his head she didn’t need the burn of emotion in his eyes to tell her he loved her. For the first time she just knew.

  Alex loved her.

  ‘I think you do need to marry me after all.’ She touched his cheek, once, lightly and laid her own against his chest. She could hear his heart, feel it.

  She was home.

  Epilogue

  Illiakos—1823

  ‘Scared?’

  ‘Terrified. You’re mad! The only way we make it down is in pieces on those rocks.’

  ‘Trust me.’

  Christina’s eyes were a shade darker than the sea stretched out beneath them, narrowed in the smile that was the delight of his life. Of course he trusted her. With more than his sorry hide. He put his hand in hers and followed. The basket lurched and so did his stomach, but she tucked her hand into his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment before turning to the others standing on the wooden platform that led to the suspended basket.

  ‘If you prefer you can take the cliff path. Yannis will show you, but this is faster if you want to wait for the basket to come back up.’

  ‘There’s a path?’ Alex asked hopefully, taking in the old rope and the creaking of the pulleys. But it was too late. Chrissie gave the command to Yannis, wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck, rising to press her lips to his and took utter possession of his mouth as the world fell out from under them. Vaguely he heard his friends’ laughter snatched away by the wind above them and the roar of the surf below. Everything else was the sensation of falling, of the demanding passion of her embrace, her body the only firm point in a collapsing universe. It was only seconds but it felt immense, a whole existence. Then weight returned and the creaking of the rope and she pulled away a little, her eyes warm with pleasure. They were slowing, the shore coming towards them in a dazzle of brown, honey and blue. By the time they reached the platform constructed on a shelf of rocks above the line of the sand his breathing was settling, if not his pulse.

  ‘Well?’ she murmured.

  ‘You are right, that was amazing. You are amazing.’

  She laughed and unhitched the gate on the side of the basket.

  ‘I didn’t want to warn you because the first time is always the most nerve-racking. The King had this constructed for Queen Sabina so she could bathe in the sea for her health.’

  Alex took her hand to help her out and looked up as the basket was hauled back up towards the top to the cliff. Even from here it looked dizzyingly high. He wanted to do it again.

  ‘That ride has a very uplifting effect. It’s a pity we can’t operate it ourselves. I rather like the idea of trying that again and then spending a few hours down here alone.’

  He slid his hands over her hips and bottom, pulling her against him, to show her precisely how uplifting. She tucked her hands under his shirt, scraping her nails down his back for a moment before pulling away with an embarrassed laugh.

  ‘Your friends can see everything from up there.’

  He sighed and turned to watch as Raven and Lily took the plunge. It was wonderful to have Raven and Hunter and their wives join them in Venice after the Verona Congress ended and come with them to visit the King and Princess Ari. He wasn’t in the least surprised Chrissie, Nell and Lily had become such fast friends despite Chrissie’s initial fears. But just at the moment he wished his friends elsewhere. He wanted Chrissie to himself. They were still owed a proper honeymoon since they had hardly any time to themselves before having to travel to Verona ahead of the Congress. Perhaps they should adopt Lily and Raven’s idea of retreating to an island for a month. Just them, some books, the sea...

  ‘Plotting something?’ Chrissie asked, not raising her head from where it rested on his shoulder.

  ‘Why do you think I am plotting something?’

  ‘I can feel it.’

  ‘Am I so sadly transparent?’

  ‘Not sadly. Don’t complain, you know you love it when I read your mind.’

  ‘Of course I do. It saves so much time.’

  She laughed, her breath warm through the linen of his shirt, her fingers sneaking under the material again.

  ‘So, what are you plotting?’

  ‘Your downfall, my love. Again.’

  She smiled, rising on tiptoe to kiss him before hurrying to help Raven and Lily exit the basket as it reached the rocks. Lily jumped out with all her customary energy, her tawny eyes glistening with excitement, her hand twined with Raven’s.

  ‘May we do that again?’

  ‘You can, you madcap.’ Raven laughed as they watched the basket begin another journey up to where Hunter and Nell waited. ‘I’ll watch from terra firma. Has that thing ever broken?’

  ‘Not yet. It is modelled after a contraption the King saw when he was visiting the monasteries of Meteora in Greece. What do you think, Nell?’ she asked as Nell and Hunter stepped out of the basket.

  ‘Now I know what it must feel like to fly. I was certain we would crash. It was marvellous! May we try again?’

  Hunter groaned.

  ‘Next we’ll be spending the rest of our stay here plunging to our doom, serially. I was hoping for some restful hours of sea bathing. Or perhaps not that restful.’ The descent and the wind had undone Nell’s fine flaxen hair and she twisted it into a knot, but Hunter pulled away her hands, anchoring them in his. ‘No, leave your hair down, seeing you windblown gives me ideas. How private is this beach, Christina?’

  Alex tucked Chrissie back against his side.

  ‘As the newest to the state of matrimony I claim precedence over the use of the beach. You two go find your own corners. Is the water still cold this time of year, Chrissie?’

  ‘It is still chilly. By the end of the summer it as warm as a bath, though.’

  ‘Chilly is good. Trust me, I’ll warm you.’

  Her eyes widened.

  ‘Alex, you’re not serious, are you?’

  ‘You can swim, can’t you?’

  He hauled her up, holding her firm against him as she squirmed, caught by the feel of her in his arms, bringing with it the ache which was so familiar it was becoming almost normal.

  ‘Alex! At least take off your boots and coat. You might be cold later,’ she said and he burst out laughing and hugged her to him as he strode towards the water.

  ‘I love it when you worry about me.’

  ‘I know you do. Now, if you’ll just be sensible and... Alex!’

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed this story

  check out the other books in the

  WILD LORDS AND INNOCENT LADIES series

  LORD HUNTER’S CINDERELLA HEIRESS

  LORD RAVENSCAR’S INCONVENIENT

  BETROTHAL

  And be sure to check out these

  other great reads by Lara Temple

  THE RELUCTANT VISCOUNT

  THE DUKE’S UNEXPECTED BRIDE

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A RANCH TO CALL HOME by Carol Arens.

  A Ranch to Call Home

  by Carol Arens

  Chapter One

  September 1883, Forget-Me-Not, Texas

  A frizzle of unease teased Laura Lee’s stomach. She rolled up the newest edition of the Ladies’ Home Journal and Practical Housekeeper tight in her fist.

  The elegant wedding gown that she had stitched with her own blistered fingers fell in lacy waves to the boardwalk, where she stood in front of Auntie June’s boardinghouse waiting for her very own prince to arrive and carry her off to the preacher.

  The pocket watch tucked within the secret pouch stitched into her petticoat marked time against her hi
p.

  Tick, tock, tick... Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes crept up on half an hour.

  As a distraction, she watched the breeze pluck golden leaves from the trees and blow them over the rooftops of the main street of Forget-Me-Not. One leaf fell on the brim of a man’s Stetson. He brushed it off, then went inside the bank.

  At forty-five minutes, with Johnny nowhere in sight, she reminded herself she had nothing to fear. Her groom had no doubt been delayed by something that was far beyond his control.

  Any moment now, dust would stir at the end of the street... Johnny urging his horse to a gallop through a veil of falling leaves. He would be wearing an expression of apology on his dashingly handsome face.

  And truth be told, it wasn’t uncommon for Johnny to be late. Once they were married, she would be able to help cure him of that habit.

  Tick, tock, tick. Ten more minutes slid past. She gripped the Ladies’ Home Journal and Practical Housekeeper tighter.

  “Curse it! Where are you, Johnny Ruiz?” She loosened her hold on the precious magazine—her guide to all things domestic and wonderful.

  As soon as the impatient words left her mouth, she regretted them. Ordinarily she was sweet tempered, the very soul of composure.

  “Howdy, miss,” came a deep male voice. Boot steps thumped on the boardwalk, bringing the speaker within feet of her. “May I be of assistance?”

  She spun toward him and looked up...and up at a tall man wearing a black duster, a Stetson dipped over his brow. It was the man who had flicked the leaf from his hat and gone into the bank.

  “Why, no.” She had thought Johnny to be handsome but this man... Well, my word. It took all of a second to feel ashamed of the thought. Johnny was her true love and would forever be the most handsome man in her heart. “Thank you, but I’m fine as can be.”

  “Name’s Jesse Creed, ma’am,” he said, dipping his dark hat in greeting. “Couldn’t help but notice you’ve been standing in this spot for a good long time now. I reckon that fellow you just mentioned might not show up.”

  He might assume so since she had blurted it out. Which did not mean it was any concern of his.

  “Perhaps I simply enjoy taking in the morning sunshine.” In a wedding gown.

  It cut her heart that this stranger thought her to be abandoned, given that was the very fear that had plagued her for the past ten minutes...as ridiculous a fear as it was.

  Johnny loved her. Nothing could keep him from being here unless something horrible had happened. What if he’d been injured...or worse?

  “It’s not my business but—”

  “Just so. It is not.” She unrolled the magazine and pressed it flat to her chest. “And just how do you know how long I’ve been standing here, sir?”

  “I’ve been to the bank, the livery and the blacksmith. Passed in front of you three times.”

  She’d been so intent on watching for Johnny that she had only noticed him once.

  “Well, you may go along your way knowing that I am perfectly fine.”

  “Good day, then.” He tipped his hat and continued down the boardwalk.

  One shop down, Jesse Creed stopped, turned. His olive green gaze settling upon her was more than a bit distracting...the sound of his voice far too appealing. In fact, it stirred her in a way she didn’t understand. “If you find you do need something, Auntie June is the one to ask for help. Here in town she’s everyone’s honorary aunt.”

  Was that handsome fellow a married man? she wondered before she could stop. She chastised herself for wondering, given that she was an engaged woman.

  A very lucky engaged woman. Johnny was dark-eyed and dashing...fun loving...passionate.

  And striding out of the front door of the hotel across the street.

  * * *

  Jesse Creed would have laid a wager that the pretty woman’s “Johnny” was not going to show up. That she was as abandoned as her expression said she was.

  Looks like he’d have lost that money. Just as he mounted the steps to the general store, a cowpoke, spiffed up and looking swank, sauntered out of the hotel. The lady rushed across the street and into his arms.

  What she did not seem to notice was that another woman drew aside the curtain of a second-story window. She peered down at the couple with resentment contorting her mouth, narrowing her eyes. A red robe drooped off her bare shoulders.

  The bride-to-be, and clearly she was that, was not going to find life an easy path with that faithless fellow as her husband.

  Sometimes Jesse wished that he didn’t notice so much, but his former career as a bounty hunter made him take note of details that many folks would not.

  Hell, the woman’s future was none of his business. He didn’t even know her. Still, he’d go on his way easier if he didn’t guess what her future held in store.

  In the end, he knew she would not welcome his observation if he told her. She probably wouldn’t believe him. There was nothing to do but continue on his way to the general store. It was a shame, though, a pretty thing like her headed for such trouble.

  Coming up the steps of the store, he nearly smacked into Auntie June on her way out. Carrying a sack of what he guessed to be sugar, she wasn’t looking where she was going, but up the street instead.

  Her short, pillow-like body listed left, but he caught her by the forearms and righted her.

  “Jesse Creed! I do declare I ought to watch out where I’m going. But I can’t rightly say I mind being rescued by such a dashing fellow.”

  “Always a pleasure, Auntie June.” And it was. The woman was one of the kindest souls he had ever met. It had been Auntie June who had convinced Corum Peterson to sell his ranch to Jesse, when he had been a stranger in Forget-Me-Not.

  “I’m just relieved to see that her young man showed up.” She turned her attention again to the couple kissing in the middle of the street. “She sewed all night long on that wedding gown.”

  “Looks like it was worth the effort,” he answered, meaning that she looked fetching in it, not that he thought the man deserved the trouble she had gone to.

  “I hope so.” She glanced back at him, brows arched over honey-brown eyes. “I’m not convinced.”

  “Seems like she is, though.”

  “Yes...and I do remember what it’s like to be blinded by love.” She stroked the bag of sugar with one finger, shaking her head. “The light of day was a harsh thing to face, I can tell you.”

  “Whoever the fellow was who broke your heart, he was a fool.”

  “What a pity you weren’t born forty years sooner. I turned many a head back then.” Reaching up, she patted his cheek. “I’d best get on my way if I want to get this pie baked in time for supper.”

  Jesse stood for a moment, watching the good-hearted lady walk away. In his opinion, she still could turn heads. After she turned aside into the dressmaker shop, he entered the general store.

  “Mornin’, Thomas,” he said, walking past a display of frilly yard goods. The scent of coffee on the simmer hit him like a welcome home.

  And home he was. After a lifetime of living here and there, often without a roof to keep out the night, he’d purchased a ranch and settled down in the sweet town of Forget-Me-Not.

  “Say, Jesse! Bingham’s nearly busting with excitement. I’m mighty grateful you hired him to come along with you to pick up your horses.”

  “No thanks needed. He’ll be earning every bit of his pay.”

  “Grateful for that, too. The boy was headed for trouble, taking up with the Underwoods like he was. Good honest work will give him something to be proud of.”

  Jesse understood that. He’d earned a lot of money as a bounty hunter but the profession had darkened his soul. Ranching was something to feel honorable about...to let him lay his head on his pillow at night and sleep without regret.

  “I’ll tak
e good care of your boy, don’t you worry, Thomas.”

  “I won’t. Or not overly. I’d rather see him bucked off a stallion than spend an hour with Hoodoo and his brothers. Those young men grow wilder by the day.”

  For the large part, Forget-Me-Not was a peaceful place to lay down roots, but every town had its problems. Most folks waited anxiously for the day that the Underwood boys left home and went looking for adventure that couldn’t be found in this tranquil place.

  In Jesse’s opinion and with what hard experience had shown him, those five hoodlums’ quest for adventure would land them in prison or dead.

  Something, cans he guessed, clattered to the floor in the storeroom. A series of clanking sounds indicated that they were being set to rights. Heavy boot thumps crossed the floor. Something else rattled but didn’t fall.

  The curtain separating the rooms fanned out and Bingham Teal burst into the room, his saddle pack slung over his shoulder.

  “I’m ready to go, Mr. Creed.” A grin as wide as sunrise split the kid’s face. He rushed out the front door of the store, his hat nearly brushing the frame, hurrying away without a goodbye. His father raised his arm as if to call him back but then let it fall to his side.

  All at once, Bingham charged back into the store, took his father’s hand and pumped it up and down. “See you in two weeks, Pa!” He stepped toward the door again but spun about and wrapped his father in a great hug.

  Once again, Bingham hurried out of the store.

  “Mind your manners!” Thomas called after his great, lurching offspring. “If you catch a whiff of jasmine along the trail, Jesse, it’ll be his mother watching over him. I reckon she’s bursting her heavenly buttons over what a fine boy he grew into.”

  “I’ll bring him home safe, two weeks...three at most.”

  Thomas lifted a blanket from behind the counter. “Never know when the night might turn bitter cold.”

  Jesse took the heavy wool cover, tipped his Stetson in farewell, then followed the boy outside.

  While this was a great adventure for Bingham, it was more so for Jesse. He’d moved onto his ranch only a month ago. There had been enough time to make repairs to the barn and paddock, but being anxious to pick up his herd of horses, he’d neglected fixing up the house.