Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,98

feel like a queen mastering her subject. Except he was far too big and masterful to be a mere subject.

“I love you,” she murmured as her blood began to heat. “I love you even more than chemistry.”

His face lit up at those words. “I love you . . . even more than the theater.” He was driving up into her now with a glorious excess that made her ache and moan and shimmy atop him. “I love you,” he said hoarsely, “as the ocean loves the shore.”

“As phosphorus loves the air.” She came down on him faster now in response to his frenzied motions. He was rousing her own need, drawing her ever closer to the edge . . . to where she would find . . . her match . . . and light them both.

“For all time.” He pounded into her. “In all places. Mine. My love.”

And just as her body erupted and she clutched him to her with a cry, he thrust up into her with a cry of his own, her cascade of echoing eruptions milking him. Then she collapsed on top of him, spent and satisfied.

Some time passed while they held each other close and basked in the warmth of their joined bodies.

Then Thorn stirred beneath her. “I take it that your parents are not home?”

That brought her back to herself rather abruptly. “Oh, Lord, Mama will be here any minute. She’ll come looking for us once she hears from the butler that you’re here in the garden. With me.” Feeling a bit panicked, she slid off him and began setting her clothing to rights.

“What can she do?” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Force us to marry?”

Casting her gaze heavenward, she grabbed the pages of his play and swatted him with them. “You won’t find it humorous when she demands that we hurry to London and marry right away. Especially after all the travel you’ve been doing.”

“Ah, but after that we can be together in the master suite at Rosethorn by tonight. Sounds perfect to me.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” She paused to imagine that and smiled. Then she imagined Papa chasing Thorn around with his hunting gun, and she went over to pull on Thorn. “You have to get up and button up your clothes!”

With a laugh, he rose and buttoned his few buttons, then pulled her into his arms. “Calm down, will you? While I was waiting for you, I told your butler I was your fiancé and paid him to leave us be. I also paid him to warn us if he saw either of your parents arriving.”

“You were rather sure of yourself,” she said, fighting a smile.

“I was sure I would say or do whatever I must to make you mine.”

“Allow me to continue as a chemist?”

“Done,” he said.

“Even if it means not always having me readily available?”

“Even if it means I have to wait on you hand and foot.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You have servants for that.”

“There are certain things I’d rather do myself,” he said, eyes gleaming. Then he turned serious. “I do have one caveat. That when you’re enceinte, you don’t perform any experiments with dangerous chemicals.”

“Done,” she said, smiling broadly. “You see how easy it is to negotiate with me?”

“You’re content as long as I ‘explain’ things, right?” She laughed at his smug smile. “Oh, yes. I am a blank slate when it comes to those sorts of explanations, my love.”

“Well, then,” he said. “I can see a great deal of explaining in my future.”

And as he bent to kiss her, she decided there was something to be said for marrying a writer.

Epilogue

It had taken some wrangling to get his siblings and their spouses, not to mention Mother, in one place, but Thorn had them all together at last. Now if only he could stop grinning, a highly inappropriate behavior given the subject of the meeting.

But he couldn’t help it. Yesterday, he and Olivia had finally been married, although it had taken three weeks instead of the three days he’d wanted, thanks to the women clamoring that they needed time to plan the wedding, special license or not.

Now Olivia sat with the others around the large table at Rosethorn, smiling coyly as if remembering last night’s wild lovemaking. He would have to keep from looking at her. Or remembering how it felt to be inside her last night, knowing that she was his forever. Or remembering waking to the sight of her in his bed, his