Prince of Ravenscar (Sherbrooke Brides 11)

She took his face between her palms and kissed him, a loud smacking kiss. “Ah, Devlin, I find you delightful. No, I have no wish to talk about the storm, but to be honest here, I am afraid about what this all means. You see, I’ve never felt like this before, and I don’t know, I simply don’t know, what to do or what to think. But there is one fact I will admit to you. I have always had a soft spot for vampires.”

“You are a baggage. When I don’t want to throttle you, I want to kiss you.” She raised her face. He kissed her again, and this time, he didn’t stop. When he was on top of her, kissing her all over her face, as his hands tangled in her hair, she whispered, “I’m a virgin.”

He said between kisses, “Of course you are. You’re also mine. You really do belong to me, Roxanne. Now and until I am naught more than a shadow in the corner.”

“I hope that will be a very long time from now.” She gazed up at him, felt his strength, the hardness of him against her belly through all the petticoats, and surely that was amazing, and she couldn’t help herself, she lifted her hips.

He groaned, closing his eyes against the immense pleasure of it.

“I cannot share you, Devlin, even with these two women I fancy I should quite like, were you not bedding them.”

“They shall become friends, to both of us, if you wish, and nothing more.”

“I do not know much of anything, you will quickly come to dislike me, and you will be miserable.”

He looked down at her beloved face. “I will enjoy teaching you endlessly throughout the years of our liv

es. Should you like your first lesson now, Roxanne?”

“Since I am a spinster, it would be nice to get started with the business before I am any older.”

He gave a shout of laughter and kissed her, nudging her mouth open. She felt his hand on her breast, kneading her through her gown. “I can feel you, the outline of you, but it is not enough. I want you naked. I know you will be white and soft, and your taste will make me howl at the moon.”

“No, that is a werewolf.”

“Be quiet. I will do my best to see that both of us howl together at the moon. The moon at midnight.”

She raised her hand and stroked his face. “Do you know, I cannot wait to see you, and us, together.”

Devlin realized, even though she didn’t, that the air had grown chill and the sun was now behind dark clouds. Having her naked wouldn’t be pleasant here by the river at this moment, even with lust pounding through both of them, particularly when it started to rain, as it most assuredly would at any time now. He sighed, lifted himself off her. “We must wait. I will fetch you tonight, if it pleases you. Or, if you would prefer, we can wait until we are married.” Those words nearly made him stutter, he hated speaking them so much.

“Perhaps you are right,” she said, and he loved that she sounded so disappointed. He straightened his own clothes, then hers, patted her hair. He kissed her once more.

“We must go.”

As they ran hand in hand back toward Ravenscar, the rain clouds nearly upon them, Roxanne shouted, “Perhaps I shall see you at midnight, perhaps we will dance together, and I shall present you my neck.”

They beat the storm by exactly four minutes. She said to him when he left her at her bedchamber door, “This is different, Devlin. This is forever.”

He did not realize until he was drinking a brandy after an excellent dinner that evening with Julian that she had not agreed to marry him. He also realized he hadn’t told her he loved her. I quite like having you around. That was certainly true, but he should still be clouted. Where was his damned brain? He looked at Julian and said slowly, “I am an idiot. Impale me on a pole and throw me into the Thames at low tide.”

Julian said, “I know this has something to do with Roxanne. Why are you an idiot?”

“I’m not at liberty to speak of it.”

“Of course you are. I’m your uncle.”

Devlin balled up his napkin and threw it across the dining room. “I did not tell her I loved her. Can you believe this? I told her I liked having her around.”

“Yes, that was remiss of you. However, you have a fluent tongue, Devlin. You will fix it.

“Do you know, I believe Beatrice is going to have puppies? Cletus is the proud father. He is hovering over her, not letting her out of his sight.”

“I would like two of the litter. Cletus is very possessive. He will not easily give them up. As for Beatrice, she will lick them endlessly until they have no hair at all. Do you think it reprehensible to sleep with a woman before you marry her?”

“Yes, I fear I do.”

Devlin cursed into his brandy. “She is eager, Julian, mayhap as eager as I. Only four nights until we have our last smuggling run—damn, it is an eternity. I am certain my mother will wish to plan an elaborate wedding. How many months will that take?”