Her Wicked Ways (45 page)

In record time, Fox flipped her onto her stomach and unhooked the sumptuous gown. He roughly pulled it down her back.

“Careful! I may need to sell this.”

Fox slowed. “Indeed?”

She turned her head to the side so he could see half of her face. “I’m afraid my parents aren’t in favor of this marriage. I doubt they’ll provide a dowry. Never fear, for I’ve my belongings—which are vast and expensive—and Turnbridge, of course.”

“I don’t give a damn about your material offerings.” Fox purposefully rent the fabric away from her body. “I’ve managed this long, and we’ll continue to do so. All I want, all I need is you.” He pulled her shift apart, exposing the ivory flesh of her back.

With far more gentleness than he’d shown her garments, he ran his palms over her satiny skin. “Are you really here? With me?” His hands trembled. “What did I do to deserve you?”

She twisted to face him. “Oh, Fox. I’m the one who needs to deserve you. Today at Stipple’s End, you told my parents that I’d given the children a reason to truly live, but it’s you who’ve given that to me. You make me…happy.” Her eyes glistened, as if she held back tears.

He crushed her lips beneath his, wanting to draw the happiness from her and coat his soul. In turn, he gave her the bliss racing through him. She kicked her ruined clothing away and reached down to strip off her boots. When she tried to remove her stockings, he pulled her hands up and pinned them on either side of her head. “Hang the rest of whatever you’re wearing.” He kissed her again, brutal in his need to consume her and be consumed.

She thrust her hips against his and pressed her breasts to his chest. God, his body was still aroused from that afternoon. He couldn’t wait. He released one of her wrists and put his hand between her legs. She was hot and wet and completely ready for him.

With a tilt of his pelvis, he slid into her wet heat. She moaned, low and deep, and he was lost. Blindly, he drove into her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he pushed her across the bed with the force of his thrusts. Her cries grew louder, more frenzied. She was so close. He wanted to see her face in this moment before the storm overtook him. Her eyes were closed in ecstasy, her lips parted. With a final stroke he dove over the edge into sweet oblivion.

He rolled to his side, taking her with him and holding her close to his chest. He never planned to let her go. “If your parents aren’t in favor of our marriage, do we need to leave for Gretna Green immediately?”

She drew her finger around the back of his shoulder in wide circles. “No. Jasper’s arranged things so that my father won’t intercede. Furthermore, I told them the truth.”

His breath nearly caught. “The truth?”

“That I love you, that I could already be carrying your child—”

Fox kissed her, quickly but thoroughly. “
Miranda
. I have loved you for so long. I can barely remember a time when I didn’t. Not for your money. Or your beauty. For you.”

She clutched at his neck. “I know. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize this is where I belong. I wanted so badly for my parents to be proud of me, their approval means—meant—everything. Now…”

He nuzzled her cheek. “Now?”

“Now, I crave only your approval.”

As much as he loved hearing her say it, fear curled along the edges of his mind. “Won’t you miss your life in London? And all of the trappings that go with it?”

She flung an arm to the side. “What trappings? You ruined my clothes. And now that I have nothing to wear, I shall have to be your prisoner. Just promise you’ll keep me locked here, in our bedroom.”

Her words enflamed him. He hardened inside of her. “I can promise that.”

She looked around the bed, her hair abandoning the last of its pins in wild, gorgeous disarray. “Where’s the kerchief? Didn’t you have a plan for that?”

Fox laughed, reveling in the love threatening to burst from his chest. “You’re quite shameless, did you know that?

She looked up at him with a flirtatious quirk to her lips. “If I wasn’t, I’d never have met you.”

His lips found hers in a fiery kiss while his hand found the makeshift mask. With surprising agility, Miranda plucked the fabric from his hand and pushed him over onto his back. “Actually, perhaps I’ll employ this. I’ve a mind to try what that woman was doing to that man at the brothel.”

Lust poured through him, clarifying his emotions even more vividly. “As you wish, my lady.”

She shook her head. “Oh no, that’s Mrs. Foxcroft. I’m no lady.”

Fox grinned and gave himself over to her ministrations, profoundly grateful for her wicked, wicked ways.

Epilogue

March, 1817

MIRANDA stood atop a ladder holding one edge of the gorgeous tapestries they’d regained from Lord Norris. Felicity Knott, who’d become a dear friend in the months since Miranda’s marriage to Fox, was on another ladder holding the other corner of the tapestry.

“What the devil are you doing up there?” Fox demanded as he strode into the great hall at Bassett Manor.

Miranda threw him an exasperated look before dropping the rod onto the hook Rob had affixed into the wall the week before. “What does it look like?”

“Endangering your life,” he said, coming to stand at the base of her ladder.

“Have you no care for Felicity’s life? She’s equally in peril.” Satisfied with her work, Miranda climbed down the ladder. When she was very near the bottom, Fox’s hands came around her waist and set her on the floor.

He scowled down at her. “That was very foolish.” He shot a glance at Felicity. “Rob would agree if he’d seen you up there.”

Felicity waved her hand. “Oh, piddle.”

“Yes, piddle,” Miranda agreed. “It wasn’t foolish; it was necessary. I asked you to hang these last week.”

Felicity tiptoed from the room wearing a wide grin.

“I’ve been busy,” Fox said defensively.

“You’re always busy.” Miranda brushed a speck of dust from his shoulder.

“As if you’re ever idle.” His gaze swept the completely refurbished great hall, a project she’d attacked with vigor as soon as they’d married in October.

“There’s plenty to do, as you know. Besides, you like me this way. If you hadn’t married me, only think of how atrocious this would still look.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Yes, I married you entirely for your decorating skills.” His hands brushed over her backside, giving lie to his words.

“I knew it.” She pressed closer to him, thinking it might be nice to christen the settee that had just arrived from London two days ago.

His hands caressed her back. “Stratham and Beatrice have returned.”

After losing his seat in Parliament, Stratham had become a hermit. Beatrice had spent months laying a romantic siege until she’d ultimately won his heart. They’d married in February and had spent the last fortnight in Yorkshire on an extended wedding trip.

“Lovely. We should invite them for dinner.”

Fox arched a brow. Though he appreciated Stratham’s help in saving his neck, the two men still hadn’t formed a friendship as Miranda and Beatrice had.

She laid a placating hand against her husband’s chest. “I’ll invite Rob and Felicity as well, that way you won’t have to put up with Stratham alone, all right? Besides, it’s good practice for when we go to London next month. You’re going to meet a lot of people you’d as soon never speak to.”

Fox rolled his spectacular eyes. “Yes, and how delightful that sounds. It’s really no wonder you don’t miss it.”

And she didn’t. To her mother’s complete and utter horror, Miranda hadn’t returned to London or Benfield or any of her father’s properties since marrying Fox. She’d only agreed to visit London in April to spend time with Jasper and their Aunt Louisa, who was keen to fund a finishing school for the girls at Stipple’s End. Miranda could scarcely wait to get started on the project.

“I appreciate you coming with me,” she said, stroking the lapel of his new coat. He hadn’t wanted to spend a lot of money on a new wardrobe, but he’d indulged Miranda’s desire to see his exceptionally attractive form well-turned out. “I promise you’ll love my aunt. She’s nothing like her brother.”

“She wants to provide a better future for our girls. She couldn’t possibly be like your father. Is there any chance we can avoid seeing him?”

Miranda curled her hand around Fox’s neck. “No. But I guarantee he’ll want to keep our association to a minimum.” He’d begrudgingly attended their wedding at the church in Wootton Bassett, but they hadn’t seen him since.

“Excellent.” He gave her a provocative look that sparked the copper centers of his eyes into a smolder. “I have to admit I’m looking forward to seeing you in your element.”

She could almost feel his male pride. She felt the same way when she thought of the envious stares she’d get from other women in Town. Title or no, Fox was undeniably handsome, and when they saw how he danced…well, they’d gape at Miranda with green-eyed jealousy.

She smiled up at him, so grateful for their fortune and their love. Not everyone had fared so well. Norris had suffered a fit of apoplexy in November and died. Cosgrove sat empty like a forgotten museum, waiting for his wayward heir—a distant cousin who’d traveled to some far off place—to claim his inheritance.

Though Fox’s eyes had lit with desire, he stepped back. Miranda frowned as he went to the first of three sets of doors into the hall. He closed them and proceeded to the next set.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Ensuring some privacy.”

“I see.” Her frown instantly curled upward, and she made her way toward the new settee. “Mr. Foxcroft, when did you become so wicked?”

He finished securing the last door and strode toward her with seductive purpose. “It just so happens I had a very good teacher.” He wrapped his hand around her waist and drew her tight against his chest. “And I do believe it’s time for another lesson.”

He lowered his lips to hers, and Miranda kissed him with thoroughly wicked intent.

Also by Darcy Burke

His Wicked Heart (spring 2012)

To Seduce a Scoundrel (summer 2012)

Read on for an excerpt of

It’s hard to be respectable

Jasper Sinclair, Earl of Saxton, made a bargain with his devil of a father to marry in one month’s time. But instead of shackling himself to an acceptable debutante, he indulges his baser needs. He joins a fighting club and pursues a delectable woman who may not be what she seems. Soon he finds himself battling addictions that threaten his already wicked heart.

When you’d rather be wicked

Orphaned seamstress Olivia West wants the chance to lead an honest, respectable life, but the arrogant Earl of Saxton launches a daunting campaign to make her his mistress. Destitute and desperate, she agrees to one night with the dangerous lord, hatching a scheme to take his money and keep her virtue. However, Jasper uncovers her deception and vows to claim what he's owed—not his money,
her
.