Hot Historicals Bundle with An Invitation to Sin, The Naked Baron, When His Kiss Is Wicked, & Mastering the Marquess

by Jo Beverley

  Alex smiled. He’d made Kate moan. He wanted to moan, too. His…desire was becoming a very large, throbbing ache.

  He laved her nipple and made her moan again.

  Why was Kate in his room? Did she have the same purpose he’d had when he’d opened her door?

  Well, there was no rush. They had all night. Mmm. All night. He could think of a number of things he would like to do to pass the time.

  He moved to her other breast. He needed to get her out of this nightgown. He wanted to see every beautiful inch of her as he had at Oxbury House. He’d dreamt of that night so many times.

  He returned to her mouth and skimmed his free hand over her hip, down her leg, to the hem of her nightgown. This chair was all very well, but he would prefer the bed. He wanted to stretch her out naked on the sheets and have both hands free to explore her thoroughly. Very thoroughly.

  He started sliding his hand back up her leg, taking her gown with him.

  At some point she would come to the reason for her visit. If she did not, he would initiate a conversation. One way or the other, she was not leaving this room without telling him whether he was going to be a father or not.

  God! The thought that his child might be growing in Kate’s body…it was terrifying and awe-inspiring. His babe at her breast…a son or daughter with his blood and Kate’s. It was a dream he’d not had the courage to dream for years.

  He kissed her slowly and thoroughly, pretending it was true, praying it was true.

  He would ask her if she did not tell him, but it would be better if she told him. Perhaps she would find it easier to talk in bed…naked in bed…

  He now had her skirt up to her knees. He could not proceed farther without a bit of contortion. It was time to move this interesting activity to a more congenial location.

  He slipped one arm under Kate’s knees and the other around her back and stood up.

  “Eek!” She flung her arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

  He grinned. “Taking you to bed. Does that meet with your approval?”

  “Yes.” Some of the lust cleared from her eyes and she frowned. “No.”

  “No? I promise sharing a bed will be far more comfortable than sharing that chair—though that was very nice and I will return us there, if you insist.” He bent his head to kiss her again, but she put her fingers on his lips before he could reach her mouth.

  “No, Alex. Put me down.”

  She hated to say those words, but she had to. If she went to bed with him now, she would not find the presence of mind to tell him what she had come here to say, at least not until long after they had done what she most wanted to do in that lovely bed. She might even persuade herself to put off telling him till the end of the house party.

  He shifted his hands and slid her down the length of his body. She felt the hard ridge of his erection. He was as eager to go to bed as she was.

  Would it be so very wrong? The damage—would he see it as damage?—was already done; he couldn’t get her with child again. They would both enjoy the interlude. They could spend the remaining nights of the house party pleasuring each other. It would be wonderful.

  It would be wrong. By keeping her child—their child—a secret, she would be lying to him, and she wanted only truth between them from this moment on. When she opened her body to him this time, she wanted to open her mind and heart as well. If he wanted no part of her once he knew—well, so be it.

  She took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and looked directly into Alex’s eyes.

  Chapter 18

  “There is something I must tell you.”

  Kate looked so serious. Her eyes were huge; her face was still; there wasn’t a hint of a smile anywhere in her countenance. She was still standing in the circle of his arms, but she had withdrawn completely.

  He fought the urge to pull her close. “Yes, Kate?”

  “I…I…” She swallowed. There was a tight, almost panicked look about her eyes now. Should he help her, tell her he already knew?

  But did he know? Perhaps she was trying to tell him something else. “Just say it, Kate. It can’t be that bad.”

  “But it is!” Her voice was almost a wail. She must have heard it, too, because she pressed her lips tightly together and closed her eyes. Was that a tear shimmering on her cheekbone? He brushed his thumb over the dampness, then wove both hands through her hair to cradle her head. He kissed her gently, briefly on the mouth.

  “Tell me, sweetheart. Trust me, please?”

  Her eyes flew open. “But you can’t trust me!”

  Can’t trust her? He felt as though he’d been kicked in the gut. Had she been entertaining other men in her bed—is that what this was about? But why would she feel the need to tell him that?

  This time he was not going to jump to conclusions.

  “Kate, you are making me anxious. Just say the words. We’ll deal with the message once it’s out, all right?”

  “All right.” She stepped back; he let her go. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her and stared at his chest.

  “Do you remember what I told you when you”—she cleared her throat—“visited me at Oxbury House? When we…” She gestured toward the bed and then glanced up at Alex.

  His face took on a cautious expression. “You told me many things. Which particular bit are you referring to?”

  “I—” He must think her a complete ninny. She was not normally one to beat around the bush. She would take his advice and just say it. “When you came to Oxbury House, I told you I was barren.”

  “Yes, I believe you did.”

  “I’m sure I did. That’s why you agreed to…” She gestured at the bed again. “You know.”

  He was frowning now. “I do know, but you are wrong. I did not take you to bed because you’d told me you were barren. I took you because I couldn’t help myself. I wanted you more than food or water or air.”

  “Oh.”

  His eyes were so intent, so clear and honest—but she still hadn’t told him about the baby. She couldn’t entertain any other thoughts until she told him that. She dropped her gaze back to his chest and forced the words out.

  “I lied. I’m not barren. I did think I was, because after all those years of marriage, I never conceived. It’s true Oxbury didn’t try often or at all at the end, but when we were first married, he was very assiduous in his efforts to procure an heir.”

  She looked back up at his face. Was he paler than before? She saw a pulse beating in his temple. He must hate her.

  “Kate, why are you telling me this? How do you know now you aren’t barren?”

  “Because—” She stared at his chest again. No, she should look him in the eye when she told him. She wrenched her attention back to his face. “Because I am…with child—with your child.”

  His eyes widened. He looked shocked for a moment, and then his face lit up. He grinned and grabbed her shoulders.

  “You are? Are you certain?”

  “I-I think so. Marie seems certain. And there are signs that I am.”

  He pulled her into a tight hug. “I had hoped as much—David had hinted at it, but then, what does he know about such things?”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist. This was not the reaction she’d expected.

  “I’ll get a special license—Shall I leave tomorrow or wait until after the house party?—and we’ll be married as soon as may be.”

  She felt as if she were being swept along by a flood, unable even to grab for a low hanging branch to stop her progress. Still, she had to make the attempt.

  “You don’t have to marry me, Alex.”

  He held her away from him and frowned fiercely down at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, I have to marry you. I will not have my son or daughter born a bastard.”

  “But—”

  “No.” He put his finger on her lips. “If you do not care for me, you should never have invited me into your bed”—his voice dropped—“and into your body
.”

  “But I feel like I’ve trapped you.”

  “Kate, I’ve never wanted to be trapped more in my life. I’ve dreamt of marrying you for twenty-three years and now that you are carrying my child I will not be denied.” His eyes turned guarded. “Is it you who feel trapped?”

  She sighed. “I did when I thought I would bear this baby and face all the scorn and condemnation alone. When I imagined what my brother and the Weasel would say.”

  Alex pulled her against him again. She rested her cheek on his chest. She felt so relieved.

  “They will say ‘congratulations’ and ‘best wishes.’ And if they are silly enough to count the months on their fingers, we will ignore them.”

  “Mmm.” She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “I love you, Alex. I tried to be a good wife to Oxbury, but I never stopped loving you.”

  “And I love you, Kate.” His hand stroked her hair. “I have missed you, you know. For twenty-three years.” He laughed. “And I’ve missed you even more these last few weeks, when I knew exactly what I was missing.”

  She felt safe and protected—no longer alone. It was wonderful. But something else would be even more wonderful. “Do you suppose we might go to bed now?”

  She felt his chuckle rumble in his chest under her cheek. “To sleep?”

  She started to pull his shirt out of his breeches. “Eventually.” She ran her hands over his belly. In place of fear and worry, she now felt an overwhelming…lust. And love, of course. But right now she wanted him inside her as quickly as possible. She slid free one of the buttons on his fall.

  “Eager, are you?”

  “Yes. Very.” She got the fall open and almost sobbed with pleasure. He was not wearing drawers. She wrapped one hand around his thick warm shaft. “Take your shirt off.”

  “So demanding. Is this what motherhood does to you?” Alex’s voice sounded breathy and a bit strained. “Careful, Kate, or you’ll unman me.”

  “I don’t want to wait, Alex.”

  “An understandable sentiment.”

  “I’ve waited too long.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, but you will have to wait a moment more or you will have me spilling my seed in your hand.”

  “Oh.” She sighed and regretfully let go of her prize. She stepped back. “Very well.”

  Alex wasted no time. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and hauled it over his head in one deft motion. Then he shoved his breeches down over his hips and kicked them out of the way.

  “Ah.” She’d thought she’d remembered every detail of his body, but she had not. Or perhaps it was just that memory could never do reality justice. Naked, his shoulders and chest seemed impossibly broad—much broader than when they were confined by shirt and coat. His arms bulged with muscle and sinew. Dark hair dusted his chest, trailing down to…Mmm.

  She reached for him. He grabbed her hands.

  “No, you don’t. No touching until we remove this voluminous nightgown.”

  She flushed. “I wanted something more seductive, but this was all I had.”

  He grinned. “The only problem with this nightgown is that it is still on your body. It will be lovely in a heap on the floor, I promise you.” He grabbed the skirt. “Raise your arms.”

  She raised her arms, and he pulled the nightgown up and off her as quickly as he’d disposed of his shirt. Another night he would move slowly, teasing her, but not tonight. Tonight he felt like a starving man who suddenly finds himself at a banquet. He was too hungry to savor the feast.

  Zeus, she was beautiful. Lovely, small breasts—though perhaps not as small as they had been—Was that another indication of her condition?—flaring hips, gently curving belly…He put his hand over the place where his child grew. His child. To have Kate and a babe…It was almost more joy than he could bear.

  He grinned again. Ah, to have such problems. He bent to flick one of Kate’s nipples with his tongue. She squeaked and grabbed his shoulders. He was delighted to be burdened with such happiness.

  He lifted her onto the bed and scrambled in after her.

  Kate reached for him, but he evaded her grasp. “Not so fast, my love.”

  She grabbed for him again. Didn’t he realize she was desperate? “Yes, Alex. Now. I need you now.”

  He held her arms above her head with one hand. “Soon, I promise, but not quite yet.”

  He kissed her forehead, her cheek, her jaw, the base of her neck. She twisted her hips, spread her legs, arched her back. His light kisses were teasing her to the point of madness.

  Ah. He finally reached her nipples. They were so tight and hard. His tongue flicked over each in turn, and then he latched on and sucked.

  It was good—it was wonderful—but it was not enough.

  “Please, Alex.” She would beg, cry, scream, whatever it took to get him to go where she most needed him.

  He freed her hands so he could stroke her breasts, while his mouth at last moved lower. He paused to leave a lingering kiss on her belly.

  “Do you suppose it’s a girl or a boy?”

  “Huh?” For the first time since she’d realized she was increasing, she was not thinking about the baby. “I don’t know.”

  She tried to feel warm and maternal, but all she could manage was hot and carnal. “Could we talk about this later? I need you to attend to something else first.” She flexed her hips.

  Alex laughed. “You know, I think that is probably a good idea. I find I’m slightly distracted myself.” He grinned rather wolfishly up at her and then dipped his head again. He had moved from her belly to her—

  “Eep!” She sat up, the sensation was so exquisite.

  “What? Do you like this?” His tongue flicked over the very sensitive little spot between her legs.

  “Yes. Oh, yes.” She lay back and opened her legs wider. His hands cupped her bottom and lifted it slightly. His tongue probed delicately, teasing…

  She was going to explode. She was going to die. She was going to—

  “Alex! Oh, please…”

  “Kate.” His voice was tight. He sounded almost as desperate as she felt. “Yes. Now.”

  He put her down and came over her. She felt his heavy erection touch the point that so ached for him. She almost sobbed with desire. She wanted him; she needed him inside her like she needed air to breathe.

  She tilted her hips, and he slid in deep.

  “Ah.” She shivered as he stretched her—and then he started to move. “Alex. Ah. Oh, Alex. Oh.”

  She gripped his hips and shuddered, sensation washing through her. And then a heartbeat later, he stilled and she felt the warm flood of his seed.

  They stayed that way for minutes—he, heavy on her; she, hugging him tightly. They were joined by his body, but also by the peace of completion. The loneliness of all the years of her marriage—and the year of her widowhood—was gone.

  “Mmm,” he said, rolling to his side and taking her with him. “That was nice.”

  “It was beyond nice. It was marvelous. You were marvelous.”

  He smiled. “Pretty good for an old man, eh?”

  “Not so old.” She ran her hand over his hip. They were still joined. “And soon to be a father.”

  “Yes. A husband and a father.”

  “Did I actually say I would marry you, sir?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m not certain these lips”—he kissed her briefly—“said yes, but these”—he flexed his hips. He was growing inside her already—“definitely did.” He drew a lazy circle around the tip of her breast with his finger, skirting her nipple. “Are you inclined to dispute it, madam?”

  “N-no.” Her nipple was again a small, hard bud. If only he would touch her there…

  “Now that I think about it, I believe I’d best keep you in this bed until I have your complete and utter agreement.” His hand moved to slide down her back and massage her bottom. “I imagine this old brain can come up with a number of persuasive arguments. What do you think?”


  “I think I am very eager”—she rolled her hips and was delighted to see Alex’s gaze sharpen—“to be persuaded.”

  “Fetch Lady Grace immediately, man. Tell her her father is waiting.”

  Oh, no. Grace stopped in the hall, a hollow feeling suddenly opening in her stomach. Not Papa! What was he doing here? He was bellowing loud enough to wake the entire house party. She hurried down the stairs to intercept Lord Motton’s butler. “It’s all right, Mr. Wilks. I’ll deal with Lord Standen.”

  “Grace,” Papa said, “pack your things. You are leaving.”

  “Hallo, Papa. Why are you here?” How did Papa even know she was at Lord Motton’s estate? She had purposely not written to tell him.

  “To bring you home, of course. Go pack your things.”

  Anger warred with embarrassment in her breast. The other house party guests were beginning to gather in the entryway. “But Papa, the party isn’t over yet.”

  “It is for you.” Papa’s jaw was set; his eyes had their stony expression. “We are leaving as soon as you are ready. I hope you don’t have too much frippery with you.”

  Didn’t these onlookers have something better to do with their time? The Addison girls, with their mouths agape, closely resembled beached fish.

  “What about Aunt Kate? I think she’s still asleep.”

  Was Papa grinding his teeth?

  “Let her sleep. She is not coming with us.” He snorted. “Her chaperoning duties are ended. Let us hope she is not forced to earn her keep as a duenna, since she certainly did a terrible job bear-leading you.”

  How dare Papa speak of Aunt Kate so dismissively? And in any event, Grace did not want to leave now, even though things were vastly uncomfortable with Lord Dawson. She would go home and do what Papa wished, but when the party was over. Not now. She needed her last few days of freedom.

  If only all the people staring at her would go off to the breakfast parlor or the garden. She’d been able to stand up to Papa back home, when she’d decided to go to London, but here…

  And perhaps the trip to London had not been a good notion. Her life had been much simpler before she’d come to Town.

  “How did you know we were here, Papa?”