Quinn's Undying Rose (Scanguards Vampires #6) (3 page)

“Rose.”

When she heard his voice, she hurried in his direction, cautiously throwing a glance over her shoulder toward the ballroom, making sure nobody had followed her.

In the seconds it took her to come to him, he admired her graceful walk, which seemed as light as that of a gazelle. The sound of her slippers was absorbed into nothingness as soon as she stepped off the terrace and onto the manicured lawn below.

Quinn reached for her and pulled her behind the hedge with him, hungry for a touch. A kiss even.

“Quinn.” Her voice was breathless as if she’d danced one of the more energetic country dances the lower classes enjoyed and not the sedate dances their hosts, Lord and Lady Somersby, preferred.

When he dragged her against him, disregarding all manners and decorum, the rays of the moon lit her face, presenting her heated cheeks to his gaze. But his eyes dipped lower to those lips that waited, slightly parted, for his touch.

“Oh, Rose, my love. I couldn’t wait another moment.”

He sunk his lips onto hers, taking in her pure scent, her innocent response. With a sigh, he slid his hand to the back of her head and pulled her closer. When he nudged his tongue against her lips, a soft whimper issued from her mouth. He welcomed it and slipped his tongue between her lips, sliding it along her teeth, coaxing, tempting, urging. Her taste was intoxicating, her scent mouthwatering.

Finally, her timid tongue met his, and life stood still.

“My Rose,” he mumbled and slanted his mouth, diving into her, his passion unleashed, his control shattered. This was the third time he kissed her, and just like the first two times, the moment she responded to him, he was lost.

His other hand went down to her buttocks, palming her curves through the thin layers of her ball gown. A shocked gasp escaped her, but a moment later, she molded her heated body to his, her soft breasts rubbing against his evening coat. And lower down, where his trousers were bulging with a shaft as hard as a blacksmith’s iron rod, he nestled against her soft center. Was it the summer air or the fact she’d danced all night that he perceived her so hot there? Or did the heat have an altogether different reason?

The thought nearly drove him to madness. But he couldn’t take her here, where any moment now, another amorous couple or some unsuspecting guest might stumble upon them. Reluctantly, he released her lips. Yet he couldn’t let go of her body.

“We must be careful,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, her lips looking thoroughly red and abused. He was responsible for that, but by God, he couldn’t regret it.

“Papa will soon notice that I am gone.”

“Nonsense, your father is occupied at the tables. And I’ve made sure your chaperone is otherwise engaged.”

Her eyes widened. Was it surprise or delight he saw in them?

“Pray tell, what did you do?”

He winked at her mischievously. “I made sure she had an ardent admirer this evening who will claim all her dances and ply her with punch.”

She flicked her fan lightly against his waistcoat. “You are cruel. What if she believes in his insincere attention?”

Quinn took her hand and led her fingers to his lips, kissing them one-by-one as he replied, “Who says his attention is insincere? Mayhap he simply needed a little encouragement to overcome his shyness.”

“You, my lord,” she said in mock-reprimand, “have not a single young man in your acquaintance to whom the label of ‘shy’ might apply. The company you keep is considered most . . . ” She hesitated, looking for the correct word. “ . . . debauched.”

“Does it matter what company I keep? All I truly desire is yours. And once you grant it, I shall be with only you.”

“You mean to say, once my father grants it.”

Quinn sighed, his chest heavy with what he had come to tell her tonight. He’d thought long and hard about it, had even discussed it with his older brother, who had thought the idea a viable one.

“What is wrong?” Her voice carried the sound of concern.

“Ah, perceptive as always. Is there anything I can hide from you?”

Rose gave him a coquettish smile, one that made his heart melt. “Do you
want
to hide anything from me, my lord?”

He pulled her closer. “If you call me ‘my lord’ one more time, I certainly shall. But when my name crosses your lips, I will be utterly incapable of doing so.”

Her eyelids fluttered as her cheeks colored in a deeper red. “Quinn.” More breath than sound, the word tumbled from her lips.

Capturing her chin between thumb and forefinger, he brought her mouth to his. “Ah, Rose, you tempt me so.”

He sensed her lift herself onto her tip toes, and he had no restraint left. All he could do was kiss her, take her soft lips, caress her wicked tongue, all the while pressing her soft curves to his body, fueling the fire inside him until he realized that he could not take leave of her tonight.

Nudging back from her lips, he put his forehead to hers. “My love, I will be leaving tomorrow. For the continent.”

A shocked gasp escaped her as she pulled her head back to stare at him in surprise. “Leaving?”

With his knuckles, he brushed over her cheek. “I purchased a commission and shall be joining Wellington’s army.”

Her lips quivered. “You are going to war?”

She pulled from him, but he dragged her back.

“It’s the only way. Your father won’t give his consent. I spoke to him. He simply laughed in my face.”

“You spoke to Papa? About me?”

He nodded. “I asked for your hand. He refused, saying I have nothing to offer you, no title, no wealth of significance. My brother will inherit the title; all I have is a small estate from my mother’s side. Your father doesn’t deem it sufficient.”

And why should he? Rose deserved so much more. She was the daughter of an Earl, a beauty at that, and suitors lined up wherever she appeared. Her father would be a fool to allow her to marry a second son, a man without a title.

“But he must understand.” Her eyes reddened, a sign that tears were imminent.

Quinn laid his finger across her lips. “Shh, my love. Hear me out. I have a plan. It will work.”

Rose raised her lids in hope. Ah, how he could see the love shining in her eyes, a love that burned for him. It was all worth it, just to see this.

“I have spoken to several officers in Wellington’s army. I can rise in the ranks very quickly. I’ll be fighting by Wellington’s side soon and come back a decorated war hero. Many doors will open for me; I will be wealthy, and despite the lack of title, your father won’t refuse me then.”

He could see the little wheels in her pretty head turn, the way frown lines showed on her forehead told him as much.

“But you can get killed.”

Of course, she would be worried about him. He hadn’t expected anything less. “You know me. I can look after myself. I promise you, I’ll come back in one piece.”

She gave him a doubtful look. “They all say that. And then they come back, limbs missing, or worse, they don’t come back at all. I have heard of the accounts, of the terrible things that happen on the battlefield.” She turned away from him.

Quinn sighed and put his arms around her from behind, pulling her against him, her soft buttocks fitting perfectly against his groin. “My love, I will come back to you. I promise you that. I won’t allow anybody to kill me. And you know why?”

“Why?” she asked, her voice quiet and resigned.

He dipped his head to her neck. “Because I love you, and I plan on spending my life making you happy.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, if you promise me one thing too.”

“Yes?” She turned her head to meet his gaze.

“You won’t entertain any other offers of marriage. You are mine, no other man will ever touch you.”

She closed her eyes. “Papa will force me.”

Quinn shook his head. “No, he won’t be able to.” Tonight he would make sure that Rose could never accept another man.

He turned her to face him. “Because tonight, you’ll become mine.”

He witnessed the exact moment when Rose realized what he was saying. First, shock spread over her lovely features, then a furious blush, her bosom heaving in concert with her excited breaths.

“You are planning on ruining me?” she whispered.

“Not ruin. I’m going to make you mine; I’m going to make you my wife and love you like a husband.”

“A husband,” she murmured in disbelief. “Without the blessings of the church and society?”

He chuckled. His sweet Rose! How could she believe he would even contemplate such a thing? He patted his breast pocket. “Of course not, my sweet, I have procured a special license, and have a minister and a witness waiting for us this minute.”

“But I don’t understand. If we were to get married tonight, why do you need to go to war at all?”

With a heavy heart, Quinn looked at her. “Because I want your father’s consent. For you. I don’t want you to be shunned by your family and by society. This will remain our secret, and only should your father force you to marry somebody else during my absence, will you reveal to him that you’re already married to me. Only then. And once I return a war hero, I will ask for your father’s permission. And we shall marry a second time. And nobody except you and I will be the wiser.”

She contemplated his words, her intelligent eyes studying him. “So you are proposing to me?”

He nodded. “And your answer?”

She flicked her fan at him. “Has nobody taught you how to propose?” She clicked her tongue, clearly amused. “Well, on your knees then.”

Laughing, he dropped to one knee. “You’re not making this easy, my love. But since you insist.”

“I do indeed. Since this will be the only offer of marriage I shall entertain, I would at least like to enjoy the performance.”

Her encouragement lifted his worries about a possible rejection. “My darling Rose, will you marry me and let me love you for the rest of our lives?”

“Yes!” She threw herself at him, making him land on his back, with her on top of him.

“Ah, I like this position.”

“Quinn Ralston, you are a scoundrel!”

“Yes, a scoundrel on his wedding night. Now my sweet bride, release me from this utterly compromising position, so we can meet the minister and
enjoy
the rest of tonight’s
performance
.”

As he repeated her words, she let out another delightful laugh.

The minister was waiting at a little chapel only a short stroll from the grounds of the Somersby’s estate. Next to him, his friend James Worthington, stood patiently.

If anybody asked him to recount the ceremony later, Quinn would be unable to do so. He was too mesmerized by the sight of his alluring bride. All he could do was look at her, knowing that shortly she would be his wife in every sense of the word.

“I do take thee, Quinn Robert James Ralston . . . ”

4

When the door to the chapel shut behind the minister and his friend, Quinn lifted Rose into his arms.

“My wife.”

“My husband.”

He started walking them toward the door.

“Where are we going?”

“To a small cottage.” Quinn had arranged for a place nearby, where they could spend a few hours alone, knowing there would be no time to take her to his own townhouse, which was clear across town.

When they reached the house that was tucked away in a side street, he wasn’t disappointed. The owner had made sure the inside of the small cottage was clean and comfortable. He headed for the door that led to the bedroom. Clean linen covered the bed in the corner, and a single candle burned on a chest of drawers nearby.

While he’d hoped for a more lavish environment to make Rose his, he knew there was no time to lose. He was leaving at first light, and consummating their marriage was paramount. It was the only way of making sure that her father couldn’t marry her off to one of the titled suitors who, even now, were hovering in the ballroom for their chance at claiming her. She would have to wait for him and him alone.

He set Rose back on her feet and closed the door behind them. When she turned to him in the dim light, he recognized her heavy breathing and her flushed face.

“Don’t be afraid, my love. I won’t hurt you. I’ll be the gentlest of lovers. Your pleasure is my pleasure.” He meant it. Now that he knew she would surrender to him, he would take his time to create a memory she would look back at with joy until he returned.

“I’m not afraid,” she whispered, her lips trembling nevertheless.

She was so brave, his beautiful Rose.

Slowly he lifted his hands and stroked along her neck down to her shoulders, where the puffed sleeves of her gown sat like little butterflies, delicate and nearly transparent. Gently, he took hold of the thin fabric and tugged on it, inching it down her arms.

Her breath hitched, her lips parting in the same instant as she lowered her lids to avoid his gaze.

“Rose, look at me.”

She lifted her eyes.

“You should feel no shame. What is between us is pure and honest.”

He moved his hands to her chest, slowly pushing her bodice lower. Without the restraints of a corset, the fabric moved out of the way, freeing her breasts, delivering them to his hungry eyes. Dark rose buds sat on pink mounds of flesh that despite the lack of any support were firm. Her breasts weren’t large, but they were perfect in shape and form. He feasted his eyes on the sight, unable to get enough.

Rose’s eyes squeezed shut. He bent to her, kissing her lids one after the other.

“Oh, Rose, you are beautiful. I am the luckiest man in all of England.”

Then he allowed his hands to roam. As he palmed her breasts, feeling her warm flesh in his hands for the first time, his cock twitched in anticipation.

“Tell me, my love, what am I holding in my hands?”

Her eyes widened.

“Tell me,” he coaxed.

“M . . . my br . . . breasts.”

He gave her a soft smile. “Men call them tits.”

At the crude word, he saw her pull in a breath.

“Yes, and you have gorgeous tits, my beautiful wife. The most beautiful tits I have ever seen.”