Prince Charming

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She put her pen down and looked up at him. “I’ve just finished writing out an advertisement. I’m offering five thousand dollars for information leading to the arrest and conviction of Billy and Cyrus Border. Do you think I should offer more?”

He shook his head. “Their friends would sell them out for a whole lot less.”

“That’s what I thought,” she told him. “I’m going to deposit the money in one of the banks here and put an officer in charge of the disbursement. My hope is that the reward will force the brothers to run for the rest of their lives.”

“They aren’t going to bother anyone ever again.”

She jumped to her feet. “What happened?”

He shrugged. Billy and Cyrus were both dead, but he didn’t tell her that. The truth might upset her. She was such a gentle woman, she wouldn’t understand. It had been a fair fight. Lucas made certain of that. In the end, Cyrus tried to shoot Hunter in the back. Lucas had taken him out, and Hunter had taken care of Billy. He could have killed him in cold blood. He didn’t though. He waited until Billy drew on him. Then he shot the son of a bitch through the center of his black heart.

He didn’t want to talk about or think about the vermin any longer.

“They’re gone,” he told her.

“Do you mean to say they left the city?”

He had to think about the question a long minute. He guessed they had left. Their souls were probably already in hell, and their bodies were already starting to decay wherever Hunter had buried them.

“I guess you could say they have.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Tell me exactly what happened tonight,” she demanded.

“Hunter and I took care of the matter. That’s all you need to know, Taylor. Are you tired?”

“No, but—”

“Good. Come to bed now.”

He caught hold of her hand and dragged her into the alcove. He was barefoot and shirtless.

His back was broad, unblemished, deeply tanned. She knew his skin would be warm to her touch. She tried to block the thought. She started feeling breathless. He-stopped and turned around to look at her when they reached the side of the bed. His pants were unbuttoned. She could see the dark, curly hair in the opening.

She started blushing. She said the first thing that came into her mind. “You shouldn’t walk around like that. You’ll catch a chill. Aren’t you cold?”

He reached for the tie to her robe. “No. Fact is, I’m hot.”

She let him take her robe off. The way he was looking at her made her feel warm inside.

“You must be exhausted,” she blurted out.

He shook his head. “I’m not at all tired.”

She frowned up at him. “If I’m not tired, and you aren’t either, why are we going to bed?”

He let her figure out the answer to that question. He walked over to close the drapes. When he was finished, the room had turned into a cozy cocoon.

Taylor sat down on the side of the bed. She removed her slippers and then stood up again.

She wanted to check on the children. He caught her when she tried to walk past him. “I already looked in on them,” he assured her. “The babies got in bed with the boy. They’re sound asleep.”

She nodded, turned around, and got into bed. She fluffed her pillow behind her head, pulled the covers up, and then smiled at him.

He got into bed beside her. “You forgot to douse the light,” she told him in a whisper.

He rolled to his side, propped himself up on his elbow, and stared down at her.

“I didn’t forget.”

He wanted to see her passion. He wanted to look into her eyes when she found fulfillment. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell her the truth, however. She was skittish enough. The way she was gripping her hands together told him how nervous she was.

He leaned down to kiss her. She turned her head away. “Do you remember that first night in London at the ball?”

The question caught him off guard. He leaned back. “Yes, I remember. We were married that day.”

“At the party your half brother told you he had been intimate with me. Do you recall his boast?”

Lucas frowned. He couldn’t imagine why she would bring up that topic now. He guessed he’d have to wait to find out where she was leading him. “Yes, I remember,” he told her.

She turned to look up at him. “It wasn’t true,” she whispered. “He never touched me. No man has. I just thought you should know.”

His smile was filled with tenderness. She was trying to tell him she was a virgin and blushing enough to make him think she considered the topic horribly embarrassing. “I already knew,” he whispered back.

“Oh.” She said the word with a long-drawn-out sigh.

Lucas draped his arm around her waist and leaned down to nibble on her earlobe.

“What are you doing, Mr. Ross?”

“Complicating things.”

He started to laugh. He moved lower to place wet kisses along the column of her throat. She could barely catch her breath. She moved her head to the side so he’d have better access even as she embraced the thought that he should stop this nonsense immediately. He shouldn’t be amused either. If he made love to her, it really would complicate things. She certainly couldn’t get an annulment, could she? Did she even want one? What about a divorce? Did she want one of those? Oh, God, it was already complicated.

The truth all but smacked her in the face. She was the one complicating things, not Lucas, and all because she was falling in love with him.

She was thoroughly disgusted with herself. Hadn’t she learned her lesson yet? Was it going to take another heartbreak before she finally figured it all out? Men weren’t to be trusted. Except Lucas, a voice whispered deep inside her. She could trust him. But what did it matter? And how in God’s name could she love a man who looked ready to gag every time she reminded him he was married to her?

Taylor rolled over to face Lucas. She was going to tell him to keep his hands at his sides and leave her alone. She neither wanted nor needed him. If she said the words with enough authority and feeling, she might even believe they were true.

“Mr. Ross?”

He cupped her chin with one hand and nudged her face up. His mouth hovered directly over hers. “Yes?” he asked in a voice as rough as sandpaper.

She suddenly wanted him to kiss her. Just one kiss, she told herself. Then she’d tell him to leave her alone.

“Just one,” she whispered.

His mouth brushed over hers. “One what?”

She forgot. It was his fault because he had such beautiful eyes. He robbed her every thought when he stared at her with such intensity, such passion. She was powerless to do anything more than stare back.

She wished he’d kiss her. That realization made her remember. “Just one kiss,” she blurted out before she forgot.

He nudged her onto her back. Then he covered her with his body. He braced himself on his elbows so he wouldn’t crush her and stared down into her eyes.

“And then?” he asked.

“And then what?”

She was having trouble concentrating. He thought that was a nice reaction. He knew he was rattling her. She was blushing enough to make him think she could feel his hardness pressed against her. He rested between her thighs. Her nightgown had gotten bunched up around her hips. Taylor was trying to push the gown down and stay perfectly still at the same time. Oh, yes, she felt him all right. God knew he could feel her heat. It made him harder, until desire mixed with pain and he was throbbing with his need to plant himself solidly inside her.

“Just one kiss,” she whispered. “And then you . . .”

His mouth silenced her explanation. He took complete possession. His mouth was hard and hot, as hard and hot as the rest of his body. His tongue swept inside. She groaned low in her throat and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her nails dug into his waistband.

He grunted in response. She thought it was the most arousing sound she’d ever heard.

She loved everything about him, his scent, his taste, the feel of his hot skin under her fingertips. He was so strong he could easily crush her, and yet he was incredibly gentle whenever he touched her. He kept his strength contained. His power surrounded her, comforted her.

He wooed her with his mouth, his tongue, and his hands. He stroked her wild and made her feel as though she was the most precious thing in the world. He made her feel wanton and desirable. And powerful. He reacted to her every touch. She could make him groan by simply brushing her fingertips across his shoulders. When she moved against him, he deepened his kiss and pulled her tight against him.

She couldn’t seem to get enough of him. He pulled her hands away from his back but only for a second or two. He tugged on the sleeves of her gown, and then demanded in a rough whisper that she hold onto him again. His mouth left hers. Before she could protest, he was kissing her again. She wished he wouldn’t tease her. She never wanted the kiss to end, and when at last he did pull away from her, she was panting for breath and clinging to him.

He was in much the same condition. He thought he sounded as though he’d just run up the side of a mountain.

She felt as though she was floating in a pool of sunshine. She couldn’t catch hold of a single worry. Desire made her blissfully carefree. Lucas had done that to her. One kiss and he’d filled her mind with butterflies.

He wasn’t finished wooing her. He kissed a path down her neck, lingered over the pulse beating frantically at the base of her throat, and then moved lower still. She let out a sigh of contentment and closed her eyes.

He was determined to go slowly. He wanted to savor their coming together, but more important, he didn’t want to frighten her. He’d taken her nightgown off but kept his britches on, and he wondered how long it would take her to realize she was naked. He prayed it would be later instead of sooner. He wanted her to be as caught up in desire as he was. He would stop if she asked him to, but damn, he didn’t even want to think about the possibility. He was already burning, and all he wanted to do was feel her squeezing him while he poured his seed into her. She was going to be hot and tight and wet, just like he’d fantasized all these past weeks.

He let out a low groan in anticipation.

She had the softest, the smoothest skin he’d ever felt. He wanted to taste every inch of her. God, she smelled as wonderful as heaven. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her sweet fragrance while he slowly eased himself down on top of her.

His chest covered her breasts. She let out a gasp of raw pleasure and wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him closer. The thick mat of dark hair covering his chest tickled and tantalized her breasts. The heat from his skin made her nipples hard. She was overwhelmed by the erotic feelings flooding her body. She moved restlessly against her husband, wanting something more from him to ease the heaviness in her breasts.

He seemed to know what she wanted. His hands moved down from her shoulders to stroke her breasts. He took each into the palms of his hands, then slowly rubbed the pad of his thumbs across her sensitive nipples.

She let out a little cry. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades. He grunted in response to the painpleasure she gave him, then moved again down her sweet body so that he could caress her with his mouth. He kissed the valley between her breasts with loving attention. Her skin was so sensitive to his touch, the day’s growth on his face felt rough and scratchy, and dear God, it was the most incredible feeling. She felt as though she were coming off the bed. She arched up against her husband, begging him without words not to stop his torment.

She didn’t think it was possible to feel more pleasure. And yet, when his mouth covered one of her nipples and he began to suckle, she couldn’t remember to breathe. The pleasure was so intense, it consumed her. And just when she was certain she was going to die from the ecstasy he was giving her, he rolled away from her.

He stood up by the side of the bed. They stared at one another for a long silent minute. He was savoring the look of passion in her eyes. They were a misty blue now. Her lips were swollen, her skin flushed, and God but she was the most sensual woman in all the world.

Their mating would be good no matter what, but he wanted perfection. For her. Only for her. She had to want him as much as he wanted her. Since he had never taken a virgin to his bed before, he wasn’t certain how long it would take to make her feel the way he did. He was determined to make her burn for fulfillment, to feel the intensity. He craved her.

He only hoped he had the stamina and the strength to hold back until she was ready. His hands shook and his actions were jerky as he tore the buttons open and peeled off his pants.

Taylor couldn’t take her gaze away from his face. The smoldering look in his eyes made her heart flutter a wild beat. Every fiber in her body responded to him. The night air chilled her skin but the warm knot inside her was spreading down her middle, reaching the very core of her femininity. She wasn’t covered with a nightgown or a blanket. She should have felt embarrassment. She didn’t. She rested on her back on top of the rumpled sheets, staring up at her husband without any shyness at all.

The unknown did frighten her, and for that reason she didn’t look below his chin. She’d seen Lucas naked before, but only his backside. She’d never seen the front of him.

Curiosity won out. She slowly lowered her gaze to his waist. She saw the dark hair springing free from the V in the opening of his pants, but then Lucas bent over to take his pants off and he blocked her view.

And then he was covering her once again. She tried to keep her legs together. He wouldn’t let her. He used his knee to wedge his way between her thighs, and before she could move out of his way, he came down on top of her. He gathered her in his arms and held her tight. His hardness was pressed intimately against her pelvis. Pleasure warred with fear. He felt huge against her. Her mouth went dry. She tensed against him in trepidation. Her hands were fisted at her sides. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the inevitable pain.

A full minute passed and still he didn’t move. The heat from his body began to help her relax. She started breathing again and opened her eyes.

Lucas braced himself up on his elbows and stared down at her. He gritted his teeth against the incredible surge of pleasure he felt pressed against her.

Taylor noticed only the tenderness in his eyes. She was suddenly overwhelmed by his gentleness. She reached up and stroked the side of his face. He leaned into her hand, then kissed her palm. A shudder of desire caught her by surprise. She wanted him to kiss her again, hard, on the mouth. She wanted him to use his tongue. She wanted . . .

“You may . . .”

She whispered the request and stared into his eyes while she waited for him to understand.

He leaned down and kissed her brow. “I may what?” he asked. His voice was as gritty as the sound of crushed leaves. It was incredibly arousing.

“You may kiss me again,” she explained. She sounded breathless.

He slanted his mouth over hers and her lips parted. His tongue swept inside, plundering, tasting, giving. Her hands went to the back of his neck and her fingers splayed upward into his silky hair. She never wanted him to leave her. Her tongue rubbed against his with a boldness that surprised both of them. And then the kiss took on an urgency that left them both desperate for more.

His hands moved down between their bodies. He stroked her breasts and then moved lower. His fingers circled her navel. She instinctively moved against him.

He shifted his position, his mouth sealed with hers all the while, and then his hand moved lower still until he found what he most wanted to touch. His fingers surged through the soft, curly hair between the junction of her thighs. He stroked the smooth petals shielding her virginity and then began to caress the kernel of desire he knew would drive her wild.

She would have screamed with the pleasure he gave her if she’d had

the strength. She let out a low whimper instead. She couldn’t stop herself from moving erotically against his hand. His fingers were magical.

The rhythmic motion of his fingers against her made her wild, wanton. She arched against him, demanding more. Her nails scraped his shoulders, and she softly moaned his name.

Her uninhibited response to him made him lose his own control. His actions were rough now, determined. He grabbed hold of a fistful of her hair, pulled her head back, and sealed her mouth with his. His tongue thrust into her mouth just as his finger penetrated her tight sheath. He could feel her wetness, and it drove him wild. She cried out against his mouth. He knew he was hurting her.

He eased his finger out and tried to soothe her with another drugging kiss. And then, before she realized his intent, his mouth replaced his fingers and he was kissing her there, stroking her with his tongue and his lips. The taste of her was intoxicating. She writhed against him even as she begged him to stop the blissful torture.

He wouldn’t be deterred. He used his tongue to stroke the passion in her, and only when she was trembling and burning and pleading with him to come to her, did he at last make her completely his.

He knelt between her thighs but didn’t immediately enter her. He took hold of her hands and placed them on his hard shaft. She let out a low moan. The deep guttural sound he made in the back of his throat, filled with raw pleasure, made her feel heady with power. She stroked him, squeezed him. Her finger brushed across the very tip. She felt the moisture there and leaned up to taste it with her mouth.

He almost came then and there. Her tongue flicked across the tip of his arousal and her sweet, soft lips closed around him. She started to suckle. Lucas’s composure vanished. He didn’t want to come in her mouth, not this time. He wanted to give her fulfillment first. Even if it killed him.

His movements became rougher now, more uncontrolled. He pushed her back against the sheets, lifted her hips up high on the front of his thighs, and when he was about to enter her, he demanded she look at him.

“We’re a family now, Taylor. You’re my family. Do you understand?”