Wishes in the Wind (Kingsleys in Love 2)

“If only he’d agreed to throw those damned races, then we’d be certain he wasn’t a threat to our discovery.”

“But that didn’t happen. Aldridge refused to cooperate. And we don’t know if it was just his damned ethics standing in the way, or something more, something he meant to hold over our heads—like murder.” Coop spat again. “Take my advice, Lanston. Shed your conscience. Newgate’s an ugly place. I’ve been there. I know.”

“Hell,” Lanston muttered, rubbing his throbbing temples. “One damned meeting. One. In all these months. I was so careful about where and when. Ten full days before the onset of the first spring meeting. At bloody dawn. No one was about. We were at the far end of the stables in a deserted stall. Why the hell did Aldridge have to pick that time to check out his mount?”

“He’s the finest jockey on the turf, remember?” Coop mocked. “And soon he’ll be the deadest.”

“Enough!” Lanston exploded. “I’ve agreed to let you take care of him. I’ve offered you an exorbitant sum to do it quickly. But that doesn’t mean I have to listen to the details.”

An evil sneer. “Suit yourself.”

“I intend to. In the interim, we’ve got the Derby to focus on and to win. Contact Archer and Parrish. Get them to Epsom tomorrow by seven A.M.”

“They’ll be there.”

“Good. I’ll be in touch.” Lanston turned on his heel and strode away.

Blaker flattened himself against the stable wall, waiting only until the earl had climbed into his phaeton and urged his horses off, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.

Then he slipped off to report to Saxon.

“Do you know, my lord, you’re surprisingly good for an amateur—an amateur horseman, that is.” Nicole’s eyes danced as she handed Dustin a cup of tea, then lowered herself to the settee beside him. “This morning, I only beat you by five lengths, and that included the two times you managed to edge me away from the railing and the three times you cut me off. That was a fine improvement from yesterday, when I beat you by seven lengths, and you had to work considerably harder to impede my concentration and my speed. Of course, I’m sure you would have progressed far beyond that point had your wounds not precluded your beginning our challenging sessions until five days ago, rather than the originally scheduled eight.”

A corner of Dustin’s mouth lifted, and he set down his cup, tugging Nicole into the circle of his arms, her back curved into his side. “Your father’s right. You’re an arrogant chit. Beautiful, and one hell of a rider, but arrogant.” He nuzzled her hair.

“Thank you, sir.” She snuggled closer, cherishing these few isolated moments alone as much as he did. “Coming from a man whose very smile causes women to swoon, I consider your praise of my physical attributes to be the highest of compliments.”

Laughter rumbled from Dustin’s chest. “‘Whose very smile causes women to swoon?’ You’ve been talking to Ariana.”

“Ariana has been pointing out the changes she sees in you. In the process, she filled me in on your varied and colorful past, yes.”

“That’s my past,” Dustin emphasized softly. “You, Derby, are my present and my future. I have changed—permanently. Wait and see. I’m going to be the most devoted, faithful husband in all of England—possibly in all the world. In fact,” he murmured, brushing aside her hair to kiss her nape, “based upon my sordid past, I feel it’s only fair that, once wed, I demonstrate my devotion to you— repeatedly—until you’re fully convinced.” His lips sought the pulse point at her neck, punctuating each word with a breath of a kiss. “I’ll use all the countless and diverse techniques I know to win you over.” A heated pause. “Every last one.”

A shiver rippled through her. “A most prudent idea, my lord. I look forward to this thorough and prolonged demonstration of your devotion.”

Dustin made a harsh sound, and his embrace tightened, all humor having vanished. “God, Nicole, have you any idea how long it’s been since we’ve been alone?”

His hoarse question found its mark, Nicole’s clamoring body screaming that it had been a lifetime since he’d held her, filled her. “Not counting these precious minutes Papa allows us? Eleven days.”

“An eternity,” he confirmed, nibbling at her ear. “Derby, if I’m not inside you soon, I’m going to explode.”

She moaned softly. “Dustin, please. Papa and Sully are right in the kitchen. If they hear you, they’ll shred the marriage license you so painstakingly acquired and call you out.”

“They won’t hear me,” Dustin murmured, unperturbed. “Sullivan arrived a mere two hours ago. He and your father haven’t seen each other in a fortnight. They’re catching up on news, paying not a whit of attention to us.” His hand slid up to cup her breast through the barrier of her shirt. “Just let me touch you.”

With a whimper of pleasure, Nicole shifted closer, biting her lip as Dustin’s thumb teased her hardening nipple.

“I love how you respond to me,” he muttered, continuing his exquisite torture until tiny bursts of pleasure began to tug at Nicole’s loins, converging in a damp pool between her thighs. Dustin groaned, somehow sensing—and sharing—every inner ripple as her body prepared to receive him. “I can almost feel you wrapped around me.”

“Dustin.” Nicole’s head fell back against his shoulder. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Touch you until you melt? Or tell you how perfect it feels when I’m inside you, buried in your softness? So hot. So tight. So wet.”

Nicole’s breath exhaled in a rush. “Don’t say things like that. I can’t bear it.”

“Wait until our wedding night, my love. I’ll say things that will make you blush—everywhere.” Turning her into his arms, Dustin raised her chin to meet his burning midnight gaze. “Don’t make plans to see a soul for the first month of our marriage,” he commanded fiercely, “because I intend to make love to you for at least that long, and that will only appease our initial urgency. After that, we’ll begin exploring every exquisite nuance in existence and invent a few of our own.”

“I think I’ll die waiting,” Nicole confessed heatedly, twining her arms about his neck.