Valentine's Vow (Avenging Lords 3)

“Yes.”

Silence descended though he could almost hear the loud chatter of her thoughts.

“He died tragically.” The words left Valentine’s lips as if he were talking about a stranger, someone for whom he held no regard. A cold, clinical approach was a means of protection. “During one rather manic episode, he fell from the cliff on our family estate.”

Ava drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, Valentine. I am so sorry.” She crossed the carriage to sit beside him, captured his hand and hugged it to her chest. “I know what it is like to lose a parent in tragic circumstances. I know what it is like to feel so helpless you want to run away. Is that why you spent so much time abroad?”

It had taken many drunken nights with his friends, many hours engrossed in business to realise one could not escape the past.

“I left because I did not want Honora to live her life for me. I left to give her freedom, freedom to live, freedom from the haunting memories.”

“Then know that since making her acquaintance, she has talked about nothing other than you.” Ava brought his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. He was thankful he had not taken the trouble to wear gloves. “I cannot tell you how thrilled she is to have you home.”

“And I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to be back.”

It occurred to him that despite a week of turmoil and upheaval—a week far removed from the calm, ordered existence he thought he craved—he had never been happier in his entire life.

“Know that I am always here for you, Valentine, should you feel the need to talk.” Ava smiled. “I have admired Honora from the moment we met, more so now I know the hardship she has suffered. She truly is a remarkable woman.”

“She is, which is why I have never wanted to disappoint her.”

Ava nibbled her bottom lip as she studied him. “And yet you have not married Lady Durrant when you know how much Honora wants to see you settled.”

A sharp pang of guilt stabbed Valentine in the chest. But then realisation dawned. Marriage was about love, about loyalty, about trust and friendship. Honora had taught him that. He glanced at Ava seated beside him, gripping his hand to offer reassurance. The prospect of spending an eternity with her did not seem the least bit daunting.

He sighed as he gathered the courage to tell her what she meant to him.

Ava must have mistaken his silence for dejection. Pressing another kiss to his palm, she shuffled closer. “Mr Cassiel is an evil man with sinister intentions. Do not let his silly remarks affect you. And surely Honora must understand why you find the thought of marriage unnerving.”

Valentine was about to put her mind at ease, explain that he didn’t give a damn about Cassiel, that nothing would make him offer marriage to any other woman but her, not even his respect for his mother, but Ava cupped his cheek, leant forward and kissed him full on the mouth.

“You are everything a gentleman should be,” she said, kissing him again, her lips as soft as velvet. “You are the most remarkable man I have ever met.”

As always, she tasted of everything that was right with his life.

Valentine slipped his hand up to cup her neck, his fingers delving into her hair in massaging strokes. As her luscious lips met his once more, he was determined to show her that she had quickly become the most important person in his life. With a blinding passion reserved only for her, he made love to her mouth. In the slow, intoxicating way he might claim her body, his tongue swept over her lips before sliding into the warm, wet place that felt like heaven.

Heat pooled low and heavy in his loins.

Ava responded with the same intense level of intimacy. Her tongue tangled with his in a tantalising dance, moved to a sensual rhythm that left them both moaning into each other’s mouths.

Mindful that they were in a carriage, Valentine knew they had to stop. Except that her eager hands wandered over his chest, caressed his shoulders, exploring every line of muscle.

Her sudden urgency to touch him fuelled his desire.

Attempting to gather a firm grip on his restraint, Valentine tilted Ava’s head back and pressed his lips to the place where her pulse pounded against her throat.

“Valentine,” she panted. The word spoke of the hunger, of the craving that plagued him, too. “Don’t stop.”

Those two words stoked the fire burning in his veins.

“Don’t ever stop touching me.”

“Hell, Ava. You know how to tempt a man to behave scandalously.”

The more he lavished her with attention, the more she begged him to continue. He continued to suck and nip her neck in the erotic way that left her breathless. The yearning inside grew. The throbbing ache of his erection pressed against his breeches. His mind was lost in a heady state of arousal.

Dainty fingers traced a nervous path from his knee up to the top of his thigh. The temptress drew a groan from his throat as she dared to touch the solid length desperate for freedom. Encouraged by his pants of pleasure, she stroked him slowly through the material until his restraint snapped.