Nicole Jordan (49 page)

He squeezed his eyes shut and drew her against him, breathing a soft prayer. “Thank God.”

His restraint lasted barely a moment, though. The next instant Thorne wrapped his arms around her tightly and captured her mouth beneath his with a fierceness that stole her breath.

Diana melted in his embrace, clutching the hard muscles of his forearms as he pressed her back on the settee.

He kissed her until she was whimpering with need, his tongue thrusting deep, claiming her, but she returned his passionate caresses with all the tender yearning that was in her heart.

After several breathless, panting moments, Thorne finally tore his mouth away and raised his head to gaze down at her.

“Then you’ll marry me for real?” he demanded hoarsely.

It took several heartbeats for Diana to marshal her scattered wits, and his fingers tightened impatiently on her shoulders at the delay.

“
Will
you?”

“Yes,” she replied, her own voice husky with desire and need.

A slow, brilliantly devastating smile crept across his lips, and he bent to nibble at hers. “Good, because you won’t be leaving this island unless it’s as my bride.”

When the import of his declaration registered, Diana raised an amused eyebrow at his arrogance. “Is that so? And just how did you plan to stop me?”

“By force, if necessary. I intended to hold you captive and employ all my considerable powers of seduction until you agreed.” His grin widened. “But I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.”

It was Diana’s turn to search his face. “Are you truly certain marriage is what you want, Thorne?”

Instantly his expression sobered. “Absolutely, utterly certain, sweeting.” A new gleam entered his eyes. “For once my ward was smarter than I. Amy declared she couldn’t live without her John, and I don’t want to live my life without you. I can’t imagine trying.”

Diana smiled in misty pleasure. “You truly love me?”

“With every breath I take.” He cradled her face in his hands. “You fill the emptiness inside, Diana. You make me complete. You are the other half of me, and I want you for my life’s mate…for all time, till death do us part.”

At his impassioned words, Diana gave an involuntary shudder, unable to help remembering how close she had come to losing him. Her throat tightening as she gazed up at him, she gingerly touched his battered face, tracing the gash on his forehead with her fingertips. “Oh, Thorne, if you had died, I could never have borne it.”

He narrowed his gaze, frowning at her with feigned displeasure. “You won’t lose me, love. I told you, I want to live to a ripe old age with you and our children.”

His declaration gave her pause. “Our…children? You want children?”

Thorne’s expression softened. “Yes, a whole brood of them, as long as you’re their mother. Do you?”

“Yes, very much. I always have. But I never imagined you would want a family.”

“Well, you can imagine all you like now. I want a family with you, Diana. I want daughters as incredibly beautiful and talented and special as you are. And I want sons with a bit of the devil in them, who can make me proud.” The light of laughter filled his hazel eyes. “Besides, it’s time I gave my father the heir he so badly craves.”

His amusement faded. “Diana…I can’t give up the Guardians, but I promise you, I intend to become more cautious in my work. I have no interest in ever risking my life so recklessly again.”

Holding his gaze, she ran her fingers over his lips. “I would never ask you to give up the Guardians. I can see it’s your life’s calling.”

It was true, she thought solemnly. The Guardians were in Thorne’s blood. They were part of him, and part of what made her love him so deeply.

He couldn’t give them up, she knew, any more than she could abandon her passion for her art. And she instinctively understood his need for excitement, for danger, for the challenge of matching wits with the enemy. “I realize how important the Guardians are to you. And I know how you thrive on danger.”

His lips pressed together in a mild grimace. “Perhaps so—in my past. But it’s no longer enough. I must have
you,
Diana. Loving you makes me feel more alive than any amount of danger ever did.”

“Oh, Thorne…” With a sigh, she lifted her mouth for his kiss. Life with Thorne would never be calm and peaceful, she knew. Rather it would be exciting and dangerous and filled with challenge. But she was prepared to risk it.

She was ready to risk her heart again, as well. She had no doubt that Thorne would keep it safe. Her arms trailed up his back, holding him now with a desperate strength. She wanted his love, wanted a true marriage with him. He gave her unalloyed sensual joy, but far more than that, he gave her heart joy.

For a long moment Thorne responded to her fervent passion. Then abruptly, he gave a groan and drew back, putting a judicious distance between them on the settee.

“I could take you here and now,” he told her gruffly, “but I’ve sworn to restrain myself until we’re wed. I would like the ceremony to be tomorrow morning, but out of respect, we’ll have to delay a few days to bury those who died today. I’ll arrange for the island vicar to marry us by week’s end, though. We’ll make use of the special license I obtained in London, so we don’t have to wait to call the banns. I mean for us to say our vows before you can change your mind.”

With a wry smile, Diana sat up, straightening her gown and her disheveled hair. “You needn’t worry. I have no intention of changing my mind. I just hope you are certain—”

Her words were abruptly cut off as, unable to resist, Thorne pulled her back into his arms for another devastating kiss.

He was damned certain he wanted Diana for his wife. She was the woman he’d wanted all his life, the only one he would ever want.

She challenged him—his mind, his senses, his heart. She filled his waking thoughts as she filled his dreams.

And he knew he would spend every day of his life thanking the Fates that he had found her.

Epilogue

THE ISLE OF CYRENE

JUNE 1815

T
his evening’s
crimson-gold sky would make another magnificent landscape, Diana reflected with delight, leaning back against her new husband’s strong chest. She stood with Thorne on the bluffs behind his villa, his arms wrapped lightly around her shoulders, her heart full.

Since their marriage nearly two weeks ago, it had become a nightly ritual to watch the day fade to dusk over the azure sea.

In the whole of her life, Diana had never known such sensual enchantment; the whisper of waves breaking on the rocky shore below; the cooling sea breeze caressing her face, swaying the boughs of the nearby carob tree; the press of Thorne’s lips against her hair; the steady cadence of his heartbeat resonating through her, matching her own.

They were lovers in paradise, and she had cherished every moment.

They’d spent much of the past two weeks exploring the island’s splendor, riding across golden valleys and up wooded mountain slopes, ambling barefoot along narrow, silken beaches and bathing in secluded coves. But mainly, they’d simply enjoyed the intimate pleasures of learning each other as man and wife. Earlier tonight they’d dined in the courtyard of Thorne’s villa, serenaded by the trickling fountain of Cyrene and her lion, before walking hand in hand out to the bluffs overlooking the sea.

When the moon rose on the horizon, turning the vast Mediterranean to a shimmering expanse of dark silver, Diana sighed with contentment. The serene vista was utterly spellbinding.

“It is so incredibly beautiful here,” she said finally.

“Not as beautiful as my lovely bride,” Thorne responded.

Hearing the sensuality lacing his voice, Diana shivered in anticipation. In a short while, she knew, Thorne would sweep her away to a world of searing passion, as he had every night since they’d consummated their marriage.

Until their nuptials, Diana had stayed with Lady Isabella Wilde, an elegant, high-spirited Spanish noblewoman with a delightful lust for life and a penchant for creating scandals of her own.

After the church ceremony, Sir Gawain had held a large wedding breakfast and ball at Olwen Castle, with a great number of Cyrene’s gentry in attendance, since Thorne was eager to show off his bride to island society.

Venus had been permitted to join the wedding festivities before sailing for London the following day, escorted by the dangerous-looking Alex Ryder and the bold, intriguing adventurer, Trey Deverill.

Diana had danced with both men at the ball. She’d also been partnered by the Earl of Hawkhurst, a nobleman with a brooding hint of mystery in his piercing eyes, who owned a magnificent breeding stable on Cyrene. Upon witnessing their camaraderie with her new husband, Diana had been struck by how similar the Guardians were—all extraordinary, vital men dedicated to a noble cause.

A few of their members were women, however. In fact, Thorne had delayed their own return to London so Diana could meet two of his closest friends—Caro and Max Leighton—who were currently in Belgium. A former cavalry officer, Max had rejoined the army this past April in hopes of vanquishing Napoleon Bonaparte once and for all. A skilled healer, Caro had gone with her husband to be at his side and to nurse those wounded in the expected confrontation.

Two days ago, a courier had reached Cyrene with word of the Allied victory. Finally, after decades of war, the conflict had culminated in a terrible battle in a field near the village of Waterloo, but Caro and Max had made it safely through.

The whole island had rejoiced, including Diana, although she’d found herself wishing her cousin Nathaniel could have been present to share the celebrations.

“What are you thinking?” Thorne murmured in her ear, so attuned to her that he could sense her mood.

“I was remembering the memorial service yesterday. How special it was. How much it meant to me.”

“It meant a great deal to me, also,” Thorne admitted softly.

They’d held a memorial observance for Nathaniel yesterday in the terrace gardens, dedicating a new fountain to him. Two dozen people had attended, several of whom Diana knew were Guardians.

Reaching down to clasp Thorne’s hand, she let her head fall back to rest against his shoulder. She would miss her cousin always, but Thorne had vowed to name their firstborn son after Nathaniel.

“I never realized Nathaniel was secretly a Guardian,” Diana remarked, “although I suppose I should have. I always admired him immensely. He was my childhood champion, my gallant knight. I adored him as much as I could have any brother.”

“Well, you can adore me now,” Thorne said, brushing his lips against her nape.

“I already do.”

She did adore him, Diana thought with a smile. And her admiration for him had only risen since she’d learned more about the Guardians of the Sword. The tale of how the order had been formed by the outcast followers of an ancient, legendary leader awed her.

Turning in Thorne’s arms, she planted a light kiss on his lips. “You know very well that I am mad with love for you.”

“I like the sound of that, wife. But I think I need a more personal demonstration. It has been far too long since last night.”

Taking her hand with sudden urgency, Thorne headed toward the villa, tugging Diana along behind him. Laughing at his impatience, she willingly followed him through the lush terrace gardens and climbed the outer stairs leading to the gallery.

Pausing outside the master bedchamber, Thorne suddenly bent and scooped Diana up in his arms, making her gasp with more laughter. Unrepentant, he carried her inside and gave her a long, lingering kiss as he lowered her feet to the floor.

“So,” he asked huskily against her lips, “how may I be of service tonight, love? Shall I paint you?”

Diana’s reply was just as husky. “Not tonight, I think.”

“But you must admit I am becoming quite a proficient artist.”

“That you are,” she agreed, loving the teasing light in his hazel eyes.

Last week when Thorne demanded a private sitting in the studio he’d created for her use, he’d used a sable brush to paint her body with four kinds of berry juice and then licked off every delicious drop. She would never again pick up a brush without thinking of him—which was precisely what the rogue intended, she knew.

“For tonight,” Diana murmured, reaching up to remove his elegant cravat, “your proficiency as a lover will more than suffice.”

They undressed each other slowly by the glow of candlelight, lingering to taste and touch. The fierce craving was still there, but the urgency had muted with the knowledge that they had all the time in the world.

When they were both nude, Thorne led Diana to the high bed and laid her down on the pale sheets.

“This has been my fantasy forever,” he said, stretching out beside her. “Seducing you to my bed where I can ravish you to my heart’s content.”

Amused, Diana raised her arms to loop around his neck. “If I remember, you didn’t have to work very hard to seduce me.”