A Rakehell's Heart

Somehow, it wasn’t the disaster he’d expected.

“Sir?” she murmured, coming awake in a flutter of lashes. “Have the servants come?”

“No, sweet. They won’t appear until we summon them, this morning of all mornings. Although I imagine quite a few people are lurking outside, waiting for us to emerge.”

“Must we rise so early?”

“It’s not early.” He laughed, tucking her close to him. “And no, we don’t have to get up yet.” He loved her sultry laziness, probably because it brought to mind the way they’d spent the hours meant for sleep. He’d taught her quite a bit last night, with many carnal adventures still to come.

Her fingers trailed over his chest, tracing the ridges of his muscles. “How strange,” she said, peeking up at him, “to wake with a man in my bed.”

“Not strange, when it’s your husband.” He put on a stern face. “Though mind me, I’ll be the only man in your bed, ever.”

“And I the only woman in yours.”

She said it blissfully, ignorant of the fact that few men honored their marriage vows. He hadn’t planned to be part of that honorable group. Once he’d gotten his wife settled, he’d imagined he would take up again with his various mistresses, politely keeping them from her notice. She’d be busy with balls and parties, after all, and taking care of the children. They would both have their own lives.

But maybe it wouldn’t turn out like that.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked.

“I feel relieved.”

He raised a brow. “Relieved?”

“Yes, that you aren’t an insensitive monster, more concerned with asserting your dominance than accepting me into your life.”

“Like your father?”

Her gaze flickered. “Yes. I’m glad you aren’t like my father. My mother wouldn’t have wanted that sort of life for me.”

Gideon noticed her eyes fill a little, though she didn’t cry. He embraced her, stroking her hair back, untangling her sleep-tousled locks. After a while, she sat up against the pillows and looked about the room, then up at the coronet that crested the bed. “His Royal Highness Prince Gideon Augustus Wickham of Hastings,” she read. “An excellent moniker for a future king.”

“And you’re the future queen now. Officially.” He winked at her. “After four ‘consummations,’ no one can dispute it. Later today, you’ll get your crown.”

“A real crown?” she asked. “Will it be heavy?”

“Not too heavy.” He kissed her forehead, lingering gently over the task. “God willing, you’ll be strong enough to bear the burden.”

She turned her face up to his, offering a deeper kiss, which he boldly accepted. By the time they parted, he was ready to bed her again, but she was too tender after all their lovemaking, so he settled for a languid exploration of her body that left them in a tangle of limbs.

“I always imagined I’d get a wife I hated,” he said, nipping at her earlobe. “Someone to make me miserable after all my crimes.”

She sat up a little straighter. “What crimes?”

“Petty crimes only, I promise. Just know that you’re better than I deserve.” He couldn’t tell her what a rakehell he’d been, or that she’d somehow reformed him in the space of half a week. But he could let a little of that gratitude and wonder show in his smile.

“I want you to be happy,” he said. “In Hastings, in this marriage, in everything, I want you to...” I want you to always be as open and trusting as you are being with me now. It was marvelous, the way she looked at him. He never wanted that to end.

“What will make you happy?” he demanded, to cover his cascade of feelings. “What do you wish for, that I can give you?”

“A kind husband?”

“You already have that, and quite a bit more.” He slid his hard cock against her front, so she erupted in laughter. “I mean specific things. Do you want a softer bed? A firmer one? A rainbow of gowns with matching shoes and gloves? Plum pudding for dinner every night?”

“What a generous prince you are,” she teased.

“I’ll give you anything.” And that was when he realized he adored her beyond all prospects, because he spoke without flirtation or irony. He meant what he said.

She seemed to recognize this, because she answered without a lover’s posturing. “I’d like a garden,” she said. “My own garden to tend, where I can plant flowers and fruits.”

“You can certainly have that. There’s plenty of room.”

“I’d like light in all the rooms of our home,” she continued. “It was so dark in the convent. By the time the children come...” She blushed. He had explained all that last night, sometime between their third and fourth coupling. “By the time the children come, I want the nursery to be the brightest room of all.”

“Perhaps it can look out on your garden.” He was rewarded with a blinding smile. “What else?” he asked.

“Might I have a horse?” She clasped her hands together, growing excited. “Any color will do. Will you teach me how to ride?”

“Of course I’ll teach you, for it’s high time. How is it that you don’t know how to ride?”

“In my youth I had a fear of horses,” she admitted. “I didn’t trust them, but perhaps now...” Ah, that brazen look from beneath her lashes. “Perhaps now I can be braver, with you to help me.”

He swallowed and regarded the bewitching woman in his bed. He knew that, when it was time for them to rise and make themselves presentable, she’d put on a fancy gown and have her maid braid her hair into a staunch ebony crown of reserve. She’d look every inch the cool and stately princess, but he’d remember her like this, a delightful flirt, afraid of many things, but not of him.

“Horses aren’t so bad when you get used to them,” he said. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know. What else?”

She closed her eyes and snuggled closer to him, burying her head against the curve of his shoulder. “There’s one more thing, but it might be too much.”

“Ask me.” He waited, hoping it wasn’t too much.

“I know it’s customary for husbands and wives to sleep apart, and I know there’s a lovely suite you’ve outfitted just for me, but I was wondering if, at least in the beginning, as I get used to the palace and being married to you—”

“Yes,” he said.

“But I haven’t asked anything.”

He laced his fingers through hers. “Do you mean to ask if you can sleep in here with me? If we can slumber in each other’s arms every night?”

“Yes, Your Highness. That’s what I was going to ask, but if it will infringe too much upon your privacy...”

“It won’t. It will please me greatly.” He tipped her chin up to give her a deep, approving kiss. “Do you know what else would please me greatly? If you’d stop calling me ‘Your Highness.’ How can we put an end to this habit? A sound spanking whenever you forget?” He punctuated the suggestion with a few playful smacks to her bottom.