How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy (21 page)

“I have every intention of doing so, but first—”

She heard his muttered curse when she slipped past him up the stairs and out the door. She made it halfway down the hall before he caught up with her.

“Not so fast, my dear,” he said. “We're not going anywhere until we have a few things sorted out.”

He clamped a gentle but firm hand on her arm, ignoring her protests as he steered her into the parlor, shutting the door to lean against it. She fumed silently even as she acknowledged that a big, irate, and very handsome man whom she was desperately in love with was a very effective means of blocking her escape.

Desperately in love with?
Oh dear, that didn't sound good, even in her head.

“This is ridiculous,” she said in a thin voice, trying to rally. “We have nothing to talk about.”

He gave a hoot of derisive laughter. “Try another one, my sweet.”

She crossed her arms, which brought his gaze flickering down to her chest. It also brought the blood rushing to her cheeks. She dropped her arms and planted her hands on her hips instead. Sadly, that failed to solve the problem because now Will's gaze traveled slowly over her entire body, his eyes turning dark with heated interest.

“All right, I suppose we do need to talk,” she said in a grumpy voice, trying to ignore her body's response to the sensual intent she saw in his eyes. “But I simply must get home before Mamma and Edie are back from the ball. Can't we do this tomorrow?”

His gaze came back to her face and the heat faded. She didn't know whether to be glad or sorry.

“No, because you'll slip out first thing in the morning in another misguided attempt to speak with Beaumont,” he said. “I'm not letting you out of my sight until we reach an agreement.”

“The only agreement we're going to reach is that we're
not
getting married,” she retorted.

“To repeat, try another one, Evie. Because we certainly
are
getting married. I've discussed it with your parents, and they agree with me.”

She flung her arms out wide. “Well, you haven't discussed it with me,” she shouted.

“Good God, you haven't given me the chance,” he said, exasperated. “I've had to resort to hunting you down like a hound after a fox.”

She had to swallow hard against the tight feeling in her throat. If she'd needed any confirmation that he didn't want to marry her, his words and the tone of his voice served quite well.

“And I'm beginning to feel like the fox, although it would appear that the hound isn't actually very eager to catch her.” She pressed her lips tightly together, hating that she sounded so wounded. The scene held humiliating echoes of a moment she'd spent years trying to forget.

Will stared at her for a few seconds then let out a weary sigh. Only then did she notice the drawn look to his lips and the exhausted, hollow expression in his eyes. He looked as unhappy as she did, and that only made things worse.

He pushed away from the door and came to her. It took all her nerve not to retreat—or throw herself in his arms, seeking comfort. Long ago, the latter was what she would have done, at least until he'd gone away and forgotten her.

Reaching down, he took her hand, threading their fingers together. “Sweetheart,” he said in an infinitely gentle voice, “where in God's name did you get that silly idea? I would think that after our encounter in your father's library, you would understand the exact opposite is true.”

His voice—that warm, low voice she'd always loved—had her swallowing tears. “You don't want to marry me and you know it. Everyone knows it.”

He made a scoffing noise and pulled her hand up to his mouth. When he turned it over and pressed a kiss to her wrist, right on her madly pounding pulse, Evie felt her knees go wobbly again.

“Not true,” he said. “I do want to marry you.” A ghost of a smile passed over his mouth. “I'm a little surprised by how much, to tell you the truth, but I suppose I shouldn't be.”

She wasn't sure what he meant by that remark but decided not to pursue it. For now.

“I'm supposed to marry Michael. You realize that, don't you?” she asked in a tight voice. “We've been planning it for a long time, and now I've hurt him terribly.”

“I do realize that,” he said in a patient voice. “But you're going to marry me instead. I'm sure Beaumont is quite clear about that.”

She winced. Every time she thought of the horrified look on Michael's face, she felt sick with shame. “He was so upset last night. I hate that he saw us . . . that way.”

“I know, and I regret that I placed you both in that situation. And you
should
apologize to him. We both should, after things are settled between us.”

She tried to pull her hand away, but he held on tight. “No, Will. I'm going to tell him that last night was simply a . . .” She trailed off at the sardonic lift of his eyebrow.

“An aberration,” she forged on. “A result of too much emotion and distress. I'll beg Michael to forgive me, and then he and I will go on as before. You'll be free of any obligation to me, since Mamma and Papa will have to allow me to marry Michael in order to preserve my reputation.”

A cold blue flame lit up Will's eyes. “I think not.”

Evie refused to be intimidated. She yanked her hand and this time succeeded in freeing it. “Why are you doing this, Will? It's ridiculous.” She averted her gaze, struggling with a myriad of conflicting emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

Will took her chin and nudged it up so she had to meet his gaze. “Tell me the truth, Evie. Do you love Beaumont?”

She stared into his amazing eyes, eyes she'd once lost herself in for hours at a time. She'd never been able to lie to him—not that she'd ever wanted to. “I care for him a great deal. Besides, we share much in common. Our work, the charity . . .” She wavered to a halt when he stroked a finger across her lips.

“That's not what I asked, sweetheart. I asked if you love him.”

“How can I begin to answer?” she said, despairing of making him understand. “It's so much more complicated than that.”

A wry smile touched the edges of his mouth, and she had to fight the urge to reach up and kiss first one corner and then the other.

“Then let's try another question,” he murmured. “Do you love me?”

His features—cherished for so long—blurred as she blinked back tears. Despair and a relentless inevitability pounded through the last of her barriers.

“Don't you know the answer to that?” she whispered.

“I do.” Will made it sound like a vow. “And for that, I am exceedingly grateful.”

Then he bent and took her mouth, ravishing it like the wolf that he was.

Evie's knees buckled under the onslaught of Will's fierce kiss. His arm snaked around her, drawing her in until she was plastered against him, shoulder to thigh. Even through the layers of clothing, his hard chest pressing on her breasts made her nipples tingle. She gasped as his tongue swept into her mouth. The kiss was so much more than the brief taste of last night's unexpected embrace. This was a devouring, and the ravishment she'd been dreaming so hopelessly about for so long.

Whimpering with helpless pleasure, she wrapped her arms around his neck and went up on tiptoe. The kiss was as hot as a lick of fire across her lips, and her body softened, yearning for more, growing damp and eager in the secret, feminine places. Every part of her seemed to be giving way, toppling in the path of his seduction. She was where she wanted to be—straight in front of him, her arms open wide. She'd waited a lifetime for this, and her heart rejected any notion of pulling back. To do so would be madness.

But so is this,
whispered a voice in her head.

She stilled in his arms, trying to remember the reasons she should be saying no. She'd come into the room expressly to say no. But with his mouth on hers, demanding total surrender, Evie could no longer formulate a reason to deny him what he wanted.

What
she
wanted.

He released her mouth. Her eyes fluttered open—she hadn't even realized she'd closed them—and she looked up into his burning gaze. She read a thousand sensual demands in those familiar depths and sensed the barely restrained predator in the rocklike tension of his body.

“Stop thinking, Evie,” he said as he swiftly untied her bonnet and tossed it onto the nearby table.

His husky growl made the back of her knees turn to water. After he disposed of her hat, his hand slid to her bottom and cupped her, nudging her forward to connect with his aroused body. His hard length intruded through her thin skirts, pressing into her mound with a seductive, terrifying temptation that seized the breath in her lungs.

“I . . . I feel like I
should
be thinking about what we're doing,” she said, trying not to pant. “But you're making it awfully difficult.”

His lips parted in a feral smile. “Ah, then we're heading in the right direction.”

As if to make good on his point, he lowered his head and nipped her earlobe—she'd never imagined
that
could make one feel like swooning with pleasure—then trailed hot kisses down her throat. When he nipped her again, sucking the tender skin at the base of her neck, every muscle in her body went slack.

Slow down. Be sure this is what you want
.

She clamped her fingers into the fabric of his coat to hold herself steady. “Will, are we really going to do what I think we're going to do?” Her voice was so squeaky she barely recognized it.

His other hand moved down to cup her bottom as well, and he gently ground himself against her mound. Evie arched up on her toes, her body instinctively reacting to the bolt of sensation his movement created.

Will groaned and his eyes almost closed as he flexed his hips once more. “Christ, I hope so. I feel like I've been waiting forever.”

“Do you really want this? Want me?” she whispered, afraid to hope. She wanted so much for that to be true.

His eyelids lifted, and Evie's heart skipped a beat at the passion that lit his eyes with a blue fire. “I want you, Evie—in my arms, in my bed, in my life.”

Those were the words she'd longed to hear. The walls she'd built against him, year after painful year, were crumbling into dust.

He pressed a searing kiss to her mouth, robbing her of breath and making her restless for more.

“I want you naked beneath me,” he said when he released her lips. “And I want you on top of me, my cock driving up into you while I play. I want
you,
Evie. Mine, forever.”

Oh, dear.
Who knew that sort of wicked talk could be so exciting? Evie knew she should be shocked but couldn't seem to muster the slightest sense of indignation.

She tightened her grip, trying to still the trembling in her body. “That sounds nice,” she managed to get out.

He smiled as he moved his hands up to her hips. He held her gently, no longer grinding against her, but still holding her tight against his arousal.

“What part?” he said. His deep rumble held a hint of amusement.

She wrinkled her nose at him, suddenly shy. “All of it, although some of it does sound rather awkward,” she said, trying to make a joke.

But she did want more from him, so much so that her body practically vibrated with yearning. It was, however, also dawning on her how little she knew about lovemaking. She'd never thought much about it in terms of Michael. Truthfully, it was hard to even imagine with him. But everything was different with Will. She could indeed imagine it and had many times when she was younger, if rather vaguely. Evie was aware of the generalities but fell down when it came to the details.

“Do you mean about being on top, with me inside you?” he asked.

His eyes glittered and a dark flush glazed his cheekbones. It would certainly appear that Will did want her, and very much, and that went a long way to assuaging Evie's shyness.

“Yes, that part. I'm having trouble imagining it,” she replied, slightly shocked by her boldness.

“Shall I show you, my sweet?”

The dark tone to his voice had her toes curling and her stomach doing funny flips. What he suggested was wicked and depraved and entirely outrageous, and if she had a brain in her head she would deliver him a severe scold and then insist he take her home. But this moment was everything she'd ever wanted. How could she walk away from it? From him?

His gaze softened, and an understanding smile curled up one corner of his mouth. “You're allowed to want it, Evie. It's not wrong, I promise you. I want it too.”

She let out a soft sigh of surrender—to herself as much as to him. “I never could say no to you, could I?”

“Don't say no to
me,
Evie. Say yes to
us.
”

She saw the quiet promise in his expression, heard it in his voice. This was the Will she'd always known and loved, the Will she trusted. This man would never hurt her.

“Well, you
have
made me curious,” she admitted. “About the, um, mechanics of things.”

“Then let me give you a demonstration.” He clamped his hands back on her bottom and lifted her straight off the floor, cradling her against him.

She gaped at him as he pivoted on his heel and took a step back to the sturdy old chaise in the corner. “Here? You're going to show me here?”

He carefully lowered himself onto the low chaise, forcing her to shift and scramble into a position straddling his thighs.

“No time like the present,” he said with rakish insouciance.

Evie was about to register a half-hearted objection when his mouth came down on hers again. Her protests were annihilated by the hot, slick glide of his tongue and the strength of his arms holding her snugly against him. For several minutes he simply held her on his lap, gently ravishing her with his lips and tongue, giving her the time to sink into a shimmering haze of boneless pleasure. With every kiss she felt the imprint of him on her mind and body and knew there was no going back. There was no one else who could draw forth the yearnings of her heart, nor would there ever be again.

Will broke the kiss. “Are you comfortable, my sweet?” He glanced down. “You seem rather tangled up in your dress.”

Now that he called attention to it, she took in the way her skirts had twisted around her legs, trapping her in an awkward position. Reaching back, she tried to pull them free and almost toppled off his lap.

He steadied her, laughing. “Here, let me. Lift up a bit.”

When she did, he pulled her skirts free, but instead of draping them over her legs, he pulled them—and her chemise—up above her hips, exposing almost everything from the waist down.

“What are you doing?” Then she winced at the screechy tone in her voice.

He let out a dramatic sigh. “I can't demonstrate the mechanics if you can't see anything.”

“Oh, that makes sense, I suppose,” she said doubtfully.

He dropped a quick kiss on her nose. “Trust me, Evie, all right?”

She nodded, giving him a hesitant smile.

“Good. Now, let's get rid of this.”

This
was her spencer. He made short work of getting it off then started on her bodice, reaching around her to undo the buttons.

Evie leaned forward so he could reach the lowest button. “Aren't you going to take some of your clothes off too?”

He flashed a wicked grin. “That won't be necessary, at least not tonight.” He plucked her spectacles from her nose and placed them on the table with her bonnet.

“Well, I suppose you're the expert,” she said, blinking as her vision readjusted.

He was about to reply but apparently lost the thread of the conversation when he eased her sleeves down her arms. Evie wriggled her hands free, blushing as he studied her bosom with an avid gaze.

“God, Evie,” he whispered, tracing a finger along the top of her stays. “You're so beautiful.”

She'd always thought herself as too abundant in that area to be considered fashionable, and had never thought of herself as beautiful—nor had anyone else, for that matter. Not even Michael had ever called her that. Only Will.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He tipped her chin up and brushed a kiss across her lips. “You don't have a clue how lovely you are, but I'm going to show you.”

His hands moved to her stays, unlacing and easing them down. Her breasts, white and full, spilled out, her pink nipples already puckering. She heard a hiss escape from between his lips, and then his hands closed around her breasts.

Evie gasped when he began to massage her nipples. They immediately hardened into tight points, tingling deliciously. She pushed into his hands, trying to increase the pressure.

“Do you like that?” he murmured.

She could only moan her reply. Deep between her thighs, her flesh went soft and damp, and she instinctively pressed down against his arousal.

“You have gorgeous breasts, Evie,” Will said as he continued to play with her. “They're like sweet candies, just waiting to be sucked.”

His shocking, exciting words made her squirm.

“Oh, oh,” she gasped, when the sensitive spot between her thighs rubbed against his hard length. Small, lovely spasms rippled through her, deep inside, and she had to grab his shoulders to maintain her balance.

Will watched her through narrowed eyes, his hands still teasing her nipples. “That's it, move against me. I don't want you to hold anything back.”

She couldn't have remained motionless if she'd wanted to, not with his clever fingers stroking her breasts and torturing her stiff nipples with delicious play. Evie gave herself over to the unfamiliar sensations as she moved against him. She
loved
the sight of his long, tanned fingers on her breasts, tweaking and gently pulling the beaded points until she thought she would go mad. When he flattened his hands on her and dragged his calloused palms over her nipples, she rose up on her knees, arching her back as pleasure bolted from her breasts to her womb.

“Oh, yes,” Will growled. One hand went to her shoulder, pushing her back in a deeper arch. That thrust her breasts up high. He dipped down his head and sucked a breast into his mouth, his tongue wrapping hot and wet around her throbbing nipple.

“Oh, God!” The words were wrenched from Evie's throat. She writhed against him as her inner flesh throbbed with a deep ache that begged for relief. Will held her in a merciless grip sucking on first one breast, and then the other. He nipped and teased, tonguing each nipple into a tight, aching peak. The sensation drove her mad. Though it was just shy of pain, she wanted him never to stop.

But even that still wasn't enough to soothe the rising demand within her that cried out for more.

“Will,” she pleaded. “Please do something.”

He swirled his tongue around her nipple once more, then leaned against the back of the chaise, pulling her upright. He kept one hand on her breast, massaging it as he watched her. His silvery-blue gaze and his rough golden hair, gleaming in the dim light, reminded her why she'd nicknamed him Wolf when they were children.

“What is it, Evie?” he asked in a low, masculine rumble. “What is it you need?”

She wriggled in his lap, trying to press closer to soothe the ache between her thighs. That pulled his lips tight in a predatory smile, and one of his hands settled on her hip, pressing her down to maintain contact. But it still wasn't enough.

“That's just it,” she complained, throwing her arms wide. “I don't know what I need.”

When he laughed, she focused her eyes enough to glare at him. “I thought
you
were the expert,” she said in a grumpy voice. “Why are you acting so beastly?”

He leaned close to plant a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I'm sorry, my love, but you look so delightfully undone that I couldn't resist teasing you. But I know exactly what you need, and I'm going to give it to you,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower, rougher register.

He pulled her skirt and chemise up to her waist, opening her completely to his gaze.

Evie couldn't help glancing down. Since she straddled him with her legs spread wide, he could see her blond curls and even the plump flesh they only partly obscured. Blushing, she looked at him from under her lashes. His gaze, intent and focused, followed the path of his fingers as he traced patterns on her upper thighs, brushing against her damp curls.