His teeth grazed the taut bud and he felt her shake beneath him, her fingers digging into his back, her nails tiny points of pleasure-pain as he drew the hardened tip deeper into his mouth and pulled with his teeth and his tongue.
“I love you, Shanal, and I’m going to show you just how much,” he growled against her skin, pressing kisses lower and lower down her body.
She moaned in delight as his hands spread her thighs, as he nuzzled her neatly trimmed thatch of dark hair. Her hips bowed upward as he licked the curve of her groin. His mouth found her center, his tongue flicking against the bead of nerve endings he knew would tip her completely over the edge. Again and again he stroked that tiny pearl. Beneath his hands he felt the muscles in her legs grow tense, then begin to tremble as a wave rode through her body, then another and another until she collapsed against the bed, gasping.
Her fingers tangled lazily in his hair, traced tiny circles against his scalp. Raif rose over her again, fitting his body against hers. When he looked down at her face he felt a deep sense of pride that he’d finally chased away her shadows—that this beautiful creature was his as much as he was hers, and that he’d made her as happy as she deserved to be.
He fitted himself between her legs, nudging his arousal against her hot, wet center. He groaned as his tip slid into her body.
“Yes,” she whispered to him, her hands at his hips, pulling him, urging him to go all the way. “Be mine.”
“Always,” he answered, kissing her and allowing his length to slide deep inside her.
She was heat and velvet, all in one. Her inner muscles tightened around him, drawing him deeper. The act of joining with another human being had never felt so perfect or so right. He pulled back and then slid home again, slow and sure—taking every second, every sensation, and savoring it as the extraordinary gift it was.
“I love you, Raif,” Shanal cried, holding him tight.
This was the ultimate in life, he thought fleetingly. This was perfection. And then he let instinct take over, and the moment became a blur of unique pleasure, of giving and receiving, and finally, of completion as they climaxed together in a kaleidoscope of sensual gratification.
When his heart rate had returned to something approximating normal, Raif rolled to his side, holding Shanal in his arms as if she was the most precious thing in his world. She was and, God willing, always would be. Only one thing more would make this moment perfect.
He pulled away slightly so he could see her face, then drew in a long breath.
“Shanal, I want you to know that I will always be here for you and—” he pressed his hand across her lower belly “—our baby. I know you are most probably sick of weddings by now, but when you’re ready, would you do me the utmost honor of becoming my wife?”
Her perfectly formed lips pulled into a smile. “I think I can find it in me to walk down the aisle once more, as long as you’re the one waiting for me at the other end. But it will definitely be the last time,” she teased, tracing the line of his nose with a fingertip. Then her expression grew serious and she nodded. “I would love to be your wife, Raif. It would be my greatest privilege to spend the rest of my life with you and to raise our children together.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he answered with a smile. “Because if you’d said no, I might have had to whisk you away on a houseboat once again, and this time never let you go.”
She shook her head. “You don’t ever need to worry about that. I’m yours, for always. As you are mine.”
Epilogue
Raif turned to watch his family as they took their seats in the marquee on the lawn at The Masters, his infant son, dressed in a baby tuxedo, cradled in his arms. In the background, the vineyard stretched out over the hillside, and farther in the distance, the dark silhouette of the old family mansion stood sentinel on top of the hill. The setting had a permanence and sense of history that he’d always enjoyed. It was good to know that some things never changed. But as he looked around at everyone gathered here at the family home to celebrate the birth of his and Shanal’s first child, and their wedding, it was also good to see the future shaping and changing with each new member of the family.
“Here, you better give me that baby,” his mother said, bustling over to his side. “You’re spoiling him rotten, you know. He needs his grandmother’s firm hand.”
Raif relinquished his son with a laugh. “Mum, you know you’re the family softie. Besides, haven’t you always said you can never spoil a baby?”
“Very true. But I have a feeling your hands are going to be all too full very shortly. Don’t you have a wedding to enjoy?”
“I do,” he said with a wide smile. “And I’m looking forward to it.”
“Well, you’ve both waited long enough. It’s a shame Shanal’s dad didn’t live long enough to see her happily married.”
“Yeah, but at least he found peace before he went. He saw her happy, and that’s the main thing, right? And he knew we’d be naming our little guy Curtis, after him.”
Marianne Masters patted her eldest son lovingly on one cheek. “You’re a good man, Raif Masters. I’m so proud of you.”
“I love you, Mum.”
Ethan arrived beside him, dressed in a dinner suit and with a boutonniere affixed to his lapel. He raised the one he held in his hand. “Your turn,” he said, pinning the flower to his cousin’s suit jacket. “And we need to go line up. Apparently, your bride is ready.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Raif asked.
Together they walked toward the temporary altar that had been set up beneath the decorated marquee on the grounds. The June weather had been kind so far and the predicted rain had held off.
“What’s the latest on Burton Rogers?” Ethan asked. “The case against him still hasn’t gone to court yet, has it?”
“I’m told his lawyers are dragging it out—fighting to have him declared mentally unfit to stand trial. Either way, he’ll be put away for a long time and he won’t be able to hurt the people I love ever again.”
“They should lock people like him up forever,” Ethan said emphatically.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Raif and Ethan joined Raif’s brother, Cade, and the celebrant who stood waiting. Raif turned to face the aisle that Shanal would be coming down. As he listened for the music that would cue her arrival, he studied the faces before him. His parents sat in front, looking exceptionally proud and happy. Their trip to France had whetted their appetite for more travel and they had a trip to Tuscany planned for the European autumn. Whether his father succeeded in taking Marianne away from baby Curtis for more than a month would be the test, though, Raif thought.
His cousins Judd Wilson and Nicole Jackson were also there with their respective spouses, Anna and Nate. Anna bore a delicate bump, announcing her early pregnancy. Ethan’s sister, Tamsyn, sat a row back with her husband, Finn Gallagher, who was propping their sleeping five-month-old daughter on one shoulder. Beside Tamsyn was her half sister, Alexis, who together with her husband, Raoul, was busy reining in their twin boys. The toddlers were charming and delightful, but also well-skilled at keeping their parents on their toes. The boys’ half sister, Ruby, a month shy of her third birthday, was to be Shanal’s flower girl, and Raif had heard that she’d been delighted when she was shown the miniature sari she would wear today.
And then the sound of delicate notes wrought from violin strings dragged his attention back to the house, to where his bride now appeared on the back veranda, together with her mother and Ruby. She was a resplendent vision in red and gold, eschewing a white bridal gown for her mother’s traditions, and to Raif she’d never looked more beautiful. His eyes never left her as, with her mother by her side, she followed Ruby down the aisle. Shanal grinned at him in return. They turned together to face the celebrant, who smiled at them both, then
began.
“We are gathered here today...”
“No running away this time,” Raif whispered to his bride as the celebrant intoned in the background.
“Never again,” Shanal answered. “I have everything I want right here, with you.”
* * * * *
If you loved this story from USA TODAY bestselling author Yvonne Lindsay, pick up the books in THE MASTER VINTNERS series:
THE WAYWARD SON
A FORBIDDEN AFFAIR
ONE SECRET NIGHT
THE HIGH PRICE OF SECRETS
WANTING WHAT SHE CAN’T HAVE
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One
“She’s the perfect choice for you,” Gabriel Alessandro’s brother joked, nudging his shoulder.
The two princes were standing at the edge of the dance floor watching their father, the king, sweep Gabriel’s future bride through a series of elegant turns while their mother concentrated on keeping her toes from beneath the prime minister’s clumsy feet.
Gabriel released an audible sigh. With his future bride’s father building a high-tech manufacturing plant just outside the capital, Sherdana’s economy would receive the boost it badly needed. “Of course she is.”
Lady Olivia Darcy, daughter of a wealthy British earl, was just a little too perfect. While she exuded poise and warmth in public, in private she never relaxed, never let down her guard. This hadn’t bothered him at all in the days leading up to their engagement. From the moment he’d begun looking for a wife he’d decided to listen to his head and not his heart. Past experience had demonstrated losing himself in passion led to nothing but heartache and disappointment.
“Then why are you looking so grim?”
Why indeed? Even though Gabriel didn’t have to pretend to be besotted with his fiancée in front of his brother, he wasn’t about to admit his regret that his personal life would have less passion and drama once he was married.
Until the wedding planning had begun in earnest, he’d considered himself well and thoroughly lucky to have found a woman who wouldn’t drive him mad with her theatrics and demands. It was in sharp contrast to his affair with Marissa, which had been a tempestuous four-year romance with no future.
Gabriel was not a world-famous musician or a dashing Hollywood actor or even a wealthy playboy. He was the heir apparent of a small European country with strict laws that dictated his wife must be either an aristocrat or a citizen of Sherdana. Marissa had been neither.
“How happy would you be if you were marrying a virtual stranger?” Gabriel kept his voice soft, but there was no hiding his bitterness.
Christian’s grin was positively wicked. “The best part about being the youngest is that I don’t have to worry about getting married at all.”
Gabriel muttered an expletive. He was well aware that neither of his brothers envied him. In many ways that was a relief. In centuries past Sherdana had seen its fair share of plots against the crown both from without and within. It would have been awful if either of his brothers had schemed to keep him off the throne. But that was highly unlikely. Nic lived in the US, building rocket ships that might someday carry regular—wealthy—citizens into space while Christian was very happy buying and selling companies.
“...hot.”
“Hot?” Gabriel caught the final word his brother had spoken. “What’s hot?”
“Not what.” Christian shot him a wry glance. “Who. Your future bride. I was just remarking that you should spend some time getting to know her. It might be more enjoyable than you think. She’s hot.”
Lady Olivia Darcy was many things, but Gabriel wouldn’t label her as hot. A gorgeous package of stylish sophistication, she had the fashion designers competing to dress her. Her features were delicate and feminine, her skin pale and unblemished. She was slender, but not boyish, with long legs, graceful arms and an elegant neck. There was a serene expression in her keen blue gaze.
And it wasn’t as if she was a frivolous socialite, spending her days shopping and her nights in clubs. She worked tirelessly for almost a dozen charities all focused on children’s causes. The perfect future queen of Sherdana.
Gabriel shot his brother a narrow look. “You just referred to your future sister-in-law and queen as hot. Do you think Mother would approve?”
“I’m her baby boy.” The youngest of the triplets, Christian had played the birth-order card all his life. “She approves of everything I do.”
“She doesn’t approve of your antics, she simply feels bad for all those times she had to leave you to the nanny because she could only carry Nic and me.”
Ignoring his brother’s gibe, Christian nodded toward the queen. “She’s hot, too, you know. She’d have to be to keep Father interested all these years.”
Gabriel had no interest in discussing his parents’ love life. “What has you so determined to stir up trouble tonight?”
Christian’s expression settled into severe lines. “Now that Mother has you all settled, she going to turn her sights to Nic and me.”
“Nic is more interested in fuel systems than women,” Gabriel said. “And you’ve made it clear you have no intention of giving up your bachelor ways.”
In the five years since his car accident, Christian had become guarded and pessimistic when it came to his personal life. Although the burn scars that spread down his neck and over his shoulder, chest and upper arm on the right side were hidden beneath the high collar of his formal blue tunic, the worst of Christian’s hurts were below the skin, deep in his soul where no healing reached. The damage was visible in those rare moments when he drank too much or thought no one was watching.
Gabriel continued, “I don’t think either of our parents hold out any hope that the two of you will settle down anytime soon.”
“You know Mother is a romantic,” Christian said.
“She’s also pragmatic.”
But Christian didn’t look convinced. “If that was true, she’d accept that you will father all the heirs Sherdana could ever want or need and leave Nic and me alone. That’s not the impression she gave me earlier this evening.”
A knot of discomfort formed in Gabriel’s chest as he thought of his future bride. Once again his gaze slid to Olivia, who was now dancing with the prime minister. Although her smile was lovely, the reserve in her blue eyes made her seem untouchable.
His days with Marissa had been sensual, wild and all-consuming. They’d awaken before dawn in her Paris apartment and make love in the quiet hush of the early morning. After which they’d sit by the window, gorge themselves with pastries washed down with strong coffee and watch the sun paint the rooftops with golden light.
“Your Royal Highness.”
Gabriel turned to his private secretary, who’d appeared out of nowhere. Usually Stewart Barnes was the calm eye in the middle of the hurricane. At the moment, sweat s
hone on his forehead.
The hairs on the back of Gabriel’s neck rose. “Problem?”
Stewart’s approach had caught Christian’s attention, as well. “I’ll deal with it,” he said, stepping away from his brother’s side.
“No, sir.” The private secretary moved to block Christian. He gave a small shake of his head and met Gabriel’s hard gaze with a look that conveyed the seriousness of the issue. “I know the timing is bad, but a lawyer has arrived with an urgent message for you.”
“A lawyer?”
“How did he get into the palace?” Christian snapped, eyes blazing.
Gabriel barely registered Christian’s words. “What could possibly be so important?”
“Did Captain Poulin give you a reason for granting this man entrance at such an inappropriate hour?”
“Can’t it wait until after the party?”
Stewart’s attention bounced between the two men as they fired questions at him. “He wouldn’t tell me what it’s about, Highness, only the name of his client.” Stewart’s tone was low and urgent. “I think you’d better speak to him.”
Unable to imagine what could have rattled his unflappable private secretary, Gabriel shared a glance with Christian. “Who is his client?”
“Marissa Somme.”
Hearing his former lover’s name aroused a hundred emotions Gabriel would have preferred not to feel. He was a little surprised that Marissa had waited so long to contact him. He’d expected her to pull a stunt five months ago when he’d announced his engagement. To say she had a flare for the dramatic was like describing the Himalayas as tall hills.
The Wedding Bargain Page 16
