He's No Prince Charming (Ever After) (22 page)

He felt a wicked twist emerge on his lips.

She spotted it, shooting him a skeptical look. “What are you thinking?”

“Something perfectly devilish.”

He easily caught her hands between one of his, pinning them above her head. With his free hand, he created a lazy trail with his mouth, her skin leaping and tightening under his ministrations, and enjoyed the breathy gasps that slipped past her swollen lips.

His explorations led him to the mound of one breast. He circled the beaded, dusky tip, fanning hot air over it. She writhed beneath him. Grinning, he caught the tip of her breast in his mouth, sucking and laving her nipple. She arched towards him, her eyes rolling shut with passion. “Marcus.”

He craved hearing his name on her lips, the way she always ended it with a breathy sigh, even when she was furious. He switched to her other breast, paying it equal attention before pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her belly, longing to touch her, to taste her everywhere.

He moved farther down, easing her legs open. Her body stiffened and he could feel the muscles in her legs tighten, but she didn’t snap them shut when he exposed her hidden folds. She smelled heavenly, of woman and heat. He groaned in pleasure.

“Marcus?”

He glanced up at the question in her eyes. With a devilish smile, he kissed her, just like the night back at the Jacket Inn. A sob escaped, her hips rising at the sensation. He caught her, holding her still as he explored. Her fingers slid through his hair, holding him in place, her body thrashing in pleasure. All the while, he pleasured her with his lips, his tongue, his teeth. He went slowly, deliberately taking his leisure. Determined to make this even better than the last time.

Pants filled the room. “Marcus. Please…I…Please…”

He chuckled, changing tempo. Her legs came around him, squeezing as he held her, not content until he’d had his fill. Her sobbing increased. He could feel her body coiling, growing closer to the edge. “Please, Marcus, do not stop!”

But he did.

A whimper of frustration escaped her. “Why did you stop?”

He chuckled at her impatient tone. Eagerly, he settled above her, pressing his mouth deeply against hers, and reveled in the softness of her lips and the hesitant stroke of her tongue against his own. He moaned, his breath catching.

Rocking his hips, he rubbed his length against her slick heat. A pant escaped both of them. She felt so good. He couldn’t wait to be inside her. But he hesitated.

“Are you…are you sure, Danni?”

Soft hands caressed his face. He still marveled at her willingness to touch him. “Very sure.”

He gulped, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “This may hurt a bit. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” she whispered, wrapping herself about him.

It was all he needed to hear. As gently as possible, he entered her. Sweat beaded on his brow as his tip was engulfed in her fiery heat. Moving as slowly as possible, he gritted his teeth, allowing her to adjust to the invasion. He felt her tense.

“Marcus,” Danni whimpered, her concern sparking his own.

He met her gaze, offering a reassuring smile and slipping his hand through her hair, cupping the back of her head. “Just bear with me, little one. It will get better, promise.”

He heard her gulp before nodding with large eyes. Gritting his teeth, he held her gaze as he slowly slid inside. He groaned as her hot sheath pressed tightly around him, threatening to pull him into a lust-filled haze.

A startled squeak escaped as Danni stiffened. His heart tugged at seeing her wince. Keeping his lower half as still as possible, he pressed gentle kisses over her face. “The difficult part is over.”

She nodded, her eyes clearing, and he held tight. He sucked in a breath, still surprised by her utter acceptance. And then he slowly moved.

She moaned as he moved gently in and out. Her hands traced over him, her fingers digging into his buttocks, pressing him deeper. A surprising purr rumbled close to his ear, hardening him further. “Marcus, do…not…stop.”

He growled as she pulsed around him.

“More,” she whimpered, panting.

He filled her to the hilt, thrusting faster, with more power. He gritted his teeth against the pain of his burning side. Marcus’s gut tightened as the edge approached. He could feel Danni tightening around him. But he wouldn’t let go unless she came with him.

He drew back far enough to look at her. Her hips rocked with him, meeting each thrust, her body arching to accept him. Her half-lidded, passion-hazed eyes fixed on him. She was stunning, more beautiful than any woman he’d ever seen.

And she was his.

With a growl, he lay his body on top of her. Her warmth and softness engulfed him. He prepared for one last thrust.

“You are mine,” he rumbled, nipping at her shoulder.

And he thrust home.

She arched off the bed with a shudder, a silent cry of release on her lips. Tenderness filled him, bringing him over the edge. Marcus groaned as he let go deep inside her, lost in the drugging heat of her body wrapped around him.

Panting, heart pounding against his ribs, he fell on top of her, engulfing her in his arms. Her hands trailed lazily over his slick skin, her chest rose and fell rapidly against his. Lifting his head, he smiled at the warmth shining brightly in her gaze. “Are you happy?”

“Mm-hmm. Very much so.”

His breathing slowed and he shifted to his side, afraid he would crush her with his weight. Immediately, he mourned the loss of her warmth, so he gathered her close, her back to his chest, and held tightly. “Sleep, little one.”

“I love you, Marcus,” she said with a contented sigh. Smiling broader than he’d ever done in his life, he nuzzled her neck, breathing deeply of roses. Of passion. Of warmth.

He listened as her breathing evened and she fell into a light sleep. Gazing at her relaxed face, he felt his tattered heart swell and couldn’t help whispering the words one last time before sleep claimed him.

“I love you, Danni. Always.”

D
anni shifted languidly alongside Marcus. Turning, she snuggled deeper into the curve of his warm, relaxed body. The arm under her head flexed briefly. His hand stroked her hip and she stretched pleasantly.

“Morning, Marcus.”

A chuckle echoed through his chest. “Wrong time, little one.”

She frowned, lifting her head to gaze out the window. Gauzy curtains at the window glided in the breeze, exposing long shadows slipping into evening.

She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Afternoon, Marcus.”

“Afternoon, Danni. Did you have a nice nap?”

She smiled and nodded, scooting as close as possible to him. His skin, stretched taut over strong muscles, made her feel treasured and safe.

Danni felt a silly grin split her lips. She was so happy.

If only these moments could continue. She wasn’t foolish enough to think their path would be an easy one. There were still so many problems. Marcus needed to return Ginny home. She had to speak with her father and the earl. They needed to avoid criminal prosecution. And, most important, she needed to tell Marcus who she was.

Her stomach pitched and her grin slipped. Now that she was sure she wanted him in her future, surely he would be as excited as she that her fortune could be used to rescue Caro. He had to see how her money was the solution to all their problems, but she feared he might not take the news well. Marcus would be upset with her for keeping secrets from him. She knew he’d understand once she thoroughly explained and he’d had some time to calm down, but she prayed he would not feel betrayed.

Gulping, she traced her fingers along the arm across her hip, tracing a white scar several inches long, hoping to gather courage from his presence. The limb tightened briefly, startling her. Rolling on her side, she watched Marcus shoot her a soft smile before gingerly lifting himself out of bed. Dragging a blanket, he moved about the room to collect clothing, pointedly keeping his naked form as covered as possible.

She frowned. She didn’t want him to feel the need to hide. “Marcus…”

He glanced over his shoulder, a charming smile slowly skewing his dimpled lip. “I’m trying, and I promise to continue to try, but being comfortable with you will take some time. Now, hurry. Dress. We have much to accomplish before dark. First, we meet with Ginny.”

Danni was acutely self-conscious as his eyes followed her movements from the bed towards her clothes. She could not stop the blush coloring her from head to toe as she reached for her shift.

“Turn around, Marcus. I’m not entirely comfortable with you watching me, either.”

“But you are beautiful,” he said with a boyish grin. “I don’t want to miss a moment.”

“Oh, you infuriating man,” she exclaimed with no real heat. “Turn about so I can dress. We must have a discussion before Ginny, and I will not do so in a bedsheet.”

She had no idea how to broach the subject. She picked up her dress and petticoats and slipped them on, lacing her stays, using the moments to gather her thoughts.

“Marcus, what…what if, completely hypothetically, of course, I had some money available to me that we could use to break Caro’s engagement.”

Marcus blinked and his face softened. “I don’t think your savings would be enough, little one, but thank you for offering.”

She cleared her throat, playing with the hem of her sleeve. “Well, what if the sum was quite substantial?”

“What are you saying?” The uncertainty in Marcus’s tone made her wince.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her spine and braced herself. Meeting his confused eyes, she asked, “Marcus, what if I was an heiress?”

“Checkmate.”

Ginny smiled as she moved her pawn into place. The stable hand stared at the board in disbelief. Their tiny audience clapped their hands. With a laugh, she jumped up from her seat on an upturned barrel and curtsied as if the king himself were present. How she enjoyed victory.

“I want a rematch!”

She considered the challenge. He’d not been a particularly good opponent, but she was in a rather generous mood. She’d already won several matches today and the sun had yet to reach the horizon. She’d been losing her mind in the small room down the hall from her captors. One could count the knots in the wooden ceiling only so many times before one was destined for an asylum. When she’d thought to leave her room, she’d found her door unguarded and the voices from her captors’ room reassured her they were not concerned about her welfare.

They were a rather unusual pair of kidnappers. She’d read stories of torture devices and the horrible conditions prisoners such as herself should expect to endure. Instead she was treated with benign neglect. More like a traveling companion than their captive.

At least they were better than the highwaymen.
She rubbed her wrists where they had been chafed raw by rope. Those men had been odious—especially the leader, Bridger Bishop, or, as he was better known, the Green Bandit. He was a rather odd man, a puzzle Ginny would have loved to decipher had she the time. Glancing down at the finished game still laid out on the board, she had to give the brigands a smidgen of credit. They’d known how to play spectacular chess.

Unfortunately, her current opponent was fuming at her victory. His mouth twisted and he called her a ninny.
It’s not as if someone had not called her that before.

After he calmed down, he gestured towards the board for another round. So she retook her seat on a stool inside the barn, the smell of hay and manure strangely comforting, and nodded for him to reset the game. She propped her chin on her knee. The man had meant to goad her, and now Ginny felt she had to prove a point. Women were a lot smarter than men.

It was a bother to have a brilliant brain. Her father often laughed at her for saying so, but it was true. From what she had observed, men did not want their wives to be smarter than them. They wanted them subservient and obedient to their every whim. It was her very unfortunate luck to possess a superior intellect.

And so, to society, she’d become Ginny the Ninny. It was the only avenue that would allow her to marry someday. And she did want to marry and have children. Sadly, a ninny was attractive to men. An intelligent, educated equal was not.

Ginny snorted.

She moved her first piece, her knight, into position. While the man across from her contemplated his next move, Ginny turned her head in the direction of the inn, wondering what her kidnappers were doing. Probably exchanging doe-eyed glances. One would have to be blind and a fool (and Ginny was neither) not to see how those two felt about each other.

She was curious about Danni, though. How could the woman think Ginny would not recognize her? Their fathers were both members of the House, and she’d seen her at several social engagements over the years. She had been very surprised to hear Danielle Strafford calling herself Miss Green, but Ginny was not about to expose her secret. Women had to stick together.

Sighing, she moved a pawn against the stable hand’s bishop. She had her own rather spectacular plan at the moment. The best she’d ever come up with.

It was to do absolutely nothing.

She’d thought to come to the stables and escape on horseback, but it became clear escape was unnecessary. Danni had the money Marcus apparently needed and Ginny knew they both loved each other but were too stubborn to admit it. Soon enough the two would work this problem out, and then they’d all return safely home. In the meantime, she was having quite the adventure.

Easing back against the bench, she castled her king. Silence fell as the game progressed. Ginny focused more on experimenting with strategy than winning. If she didn’t, she’d quickly be without an opponent and be back to counting the ceiling knots—on the fast track to Bedlam.

A sudden shout drew attention from the game. Confused looks were exchanged between the group, and one of the servants moved to the barn doors to investigate. Another shout quickly followed, and male voices became increasingly agitated. Ginny’s natural curiosity got the best of her. She stood with a nod of concession to her opponent. Upon exiting the barn, she was immediately immobilized by the stunning sight before her.

Mounted men flooded the courtyard. They halted in line, each man bigger than the last. Their faces were set with grim determination, and the setting sun created a halo effect about their heads. Cloaks swirled in the breeze, pulled back to reveal the firepower each man had strapped to his person. Such a sight she’d witnessed only during military exhibitions. A ripple of fear filled her; instinct forced her back in the shadow. They could be here to rob the inn.

One man in the center of the group inched his horse forward, sitting perfectly erect, his gaze fierce. He met the owner of the inn, who hurried from the common rooms to greet them. Her heart swelled with pride and relief as she recognized the man, and she dashed tears of joy from her eyes. No one would ever guess how well the sea legs of the Lord High Admiral adapted to a saddle.

“Papa!” She burst from the shelter of the barn, running towards him. Her father’s grim expression crumbled when he saw her. He dismounted, met her halfway, and caught her tightly in his arms, swinging her about dizzily.

“Ginny! Oh, God.” His voice shook as he spoke. His grip tightened around her once more before thrusting her at arm’s length.

She’d never been happier to see him in her life. She grinned so widely her cheeks ached, drinking in the sight of him as his concerned gaze swept over her. “You haven’t been hurt?”

She rapidly shook her head, unable to speak. Her father was not what one expected of a Lord High Admiral. He wasn’t much taller than she. His strawberry-blond hair was overly long and a permanent, mischievous twinkle glinted in his eyes. He didn’t look as if he had sired seven children, so youthful was his countenance.

“Let me look at you.”

She laughed with abandon, unable to believe she could finally go home. “I’m a little bruised from the ride, but none the worse for wear. How did you ever find me?”

A small tear slipped from the corner of his eye. His relief for her safety palpable. “Thank the lord for Grisly. If it had not been for her witnessing your kidnapping, I would have taken much longer to find you. She was able to tell us in what direction you had headed, and provide a good description of your assailants.” He took a deep breath, adding, “I was so afraid, Ginny.”

She felt her lower lip tremble, realizing how much she had really missed her father. After a moment of emotional silence, the admiral’s demeanor transitioned immediately to one of military sternness and command. “Where are they? This man and woman.”

“Papa. Wait. I think—” But he wasn’t listening to her any longer. He barked a command at his men and strode across the clearing. They swung from their horses in unison, and the stable hands she’d been playing chess with rushed forward, accepting the reins of the massive animals. Within moments, the men had arranged themselves in formation.

Ginny could only watch in horror as her father halted in front of the terrified innkeeper. “You are harboring known fugitives in your establishment. I am the Lord High Admiral, and you
will
allow us entrance.”

Her father didn’t have to ask twice. The man practically jumped to the side to allow the men to storm the building.

Ginny felt a sense of helplessness as they spread out and searched the premises for Danni and Marcus. Kidnapping was a hanging offense. Despite taking her for devious purposes, she found she could not wish such a fate upon them. They’d rescued her from those highwaymen and for that she owed them a debt of honor. Ginny was certain, too, they would never have gone through with their horrid plan to force her into marriage at Gretna. They were just mixed up about their feelings for each other, and once that was resolved, all was going to be well.

She wanted to call the entire event a misadventure, and head happily, safely home.

But her father would never agree.

It was one of the reasons, after all, why he
was
the Lord High Admiral. He possessed a keen sense of right and wrong, as well as a burning need to see justice triumph. Her father would be enraged when he learned it was his compatriot’s daughter who’d stolen her away. And even more so when he learned the marquis planned to marry her against her will.

Ginny was unable to warn her captors of their impending doom, but she would do all she could to help them. One thing her father had taught her—never let a debt go unpaid.