Authors: Kate Pearce
“I sent your maid home.”
I could only stare at him like a simpleton as I tried to see his face from beneath my
dripping bonnet. He looked desperately tired. Shadows made harsh purple streaks
under his eyes and he was unshaven. My fingers itched to smooth the furrowed lines
from his brow. I remained frozen to the spot.
With a final tug, the ribbons of my bonnet snapped. I pulled the sodden confection
from my head and looked around the neat, well-ordered room for a place to deposit it.
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Gervase seemed to have taken up all the space and all the available air. I took two hasty
steps backwards.
“I will go and make some tea.” I gestured to my bonnet. “And find somewhere to
hang this. Excuse me for a moment.”
I escaped into the kitchen where my maid, Katie, had left a good fire burning. My
teeth chattered as I struggled to locate the teapot and the necessary items for the
promised cup of tea.
“Your hair is wet.”
I spun around with a gasp as Gervase tossed a cloth at me and gestured to my head.
With murmured thanks, I went across to the fire and sank down onto my knees. I
started to unpin my hair then thought better of it as I sensed Gervase come up behind
me. I patted my fringe and side curls into some semblance of order and turned to make
the tea as the kettle hissed to the boil.
Gervase waited by the door until I had the tray ready. He picked it up without a
word and carried it through to the parlor. He built up the fire as I lit more lamps and
closed the velvet curtains against the miserable gray skies.
At first I could do little more than sip my tea and enjoy the warmth of the fire. I
sought desperately for something to say to Gervase. I hadn’t seen him for two months.
His reappearance in my life was so unexpected yet so secretly longed for that I had to
pinch myself to make sure I hadn’t conjured him out of my fevered imagination.
As I pondered what to say, Gervase broke the silence.
“Are you not curious as to how I found you, Eden?”
I could only nod, a polite smile on my lips.
“I wasted over a week searching for you in Glasgow without any help from your
husband’s family. When I returned, your mother was most helpful in securing your
direction after my father swore he could not aid me.” His mouth tightened. “It didn’t
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occur to me that you might hide right under my bloody nose on my own father’s
estate.”
I offered him some milk for his tea. He declined with a shudder. “Wherever did you
go on such an unpleasant day and why the hell didn’t you take your maid?”
I bristled at his abrasive tone. “I only went to the village church to help with the
flowers.” I had no intention of revealing that I went there most days to pray for his
safety. “I was invited to lunch at the vicarage. I walked home from there.”
Gervase’s frown deepened and he opened his mouth. I quickly spoke over him.
“The vicar did offer me the use of his carriage but it scarce seemed worth the wait when
I could walk home in ten minutes.”
Gervase growled. “How old is this vicar?”
I lifted the teapot to refill my cup and directed a blistering stare at my tormentor
over the top of it.
“I am not one of your new recruits, Major Harcourt. You have no right to
interrogate me.”
Gervase crossed one booted foot over the other and stretched out his legs until he
deliberately brushed my skirts.
“So he’s young then.” His eyes lowered to my bodice. “I am surprised that he did
not offer to walk you home in the rain. He would have enjoyed the view.”
I followed his gaze downward to my soaked bodice, which clung to every curve of
my breasts and clearly displayed my nipples. Gervase tutted and shook his head. “Still
no proper corset, I see. Are you disappointed that he didn’t escort you?”
He leaned forward to pour himself another cup of tea and drank it down in one
swallow. I attempted to pull the fabric of my gown into a more modest position.
Gervase gave a dry laugh. “Don’t bother on my account. I’ve been hard since you
walked into the house.”
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I gave up the attempt to cover myself and sat back in my chair, watching Gervase
with all the caution of a mouse cornered by a tomcat.
“What I would really like to know, Eden, is whether my father was right. He insists
you never intended to marry me, that you were using me for your own sexual
gratification whilst you waited for the right man to come along.” He placed his cup
with great precision into its saucer and stared at me. “Well?”
I cradled my cup, glad I had something to hold onto. “I am sorry if my answer
disappoints you, but your father is right. That was my intent.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I stood up and banged my cup down on the table. “Why not? Do you think you are
so irresistible? I don’t recall you asking me to marry you or stay with you. You seemed
more than content to take what I offered without any promises. The only reason you
have hunted me down now is hurt pride.”
“Christ, no!” He dragged his hand through his curling hair and glared right back at
me. “I came because I wanted to talk to you, because you left me so abruptly and
because…” he hesitated. “Because I wanted to see you again before I leave for France.”
A glut of tears threatened to choke me as I heard the concern in his voice. I turned
abruptly away.
“I notice that you did not come to inquire if I were breeding.” I clenched my fists.
“Well, surprise, surprise, I am not.”
Gervase gave a quiet laugh. “Ah…so that’s how he did it. The clever old bastard.”
I turned in confusion as he advanced towards me, the smile lingering on his lips.
“I have just realized how my devious father persuaded you to abandon me again.
He used your fear of being barren.” He held out his hand. “What else did he say? Some
drivel about wanting grandchildren?” He snorted. “He has a daughter, you know, and I
do not see Gideon’s wife enjoying a long life if she continues to pursue her current
obsessions.”
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Horrified by my own stupidity, I tried to push past him. He caught my elbow and I
had to stop.
“I told you why I left, Gervase. You were just available to me when I needed a man.
There is no more to be said.”
“You are lying.”
I raised my hand to strike him. He captured my wrists and dragged both of my
arms behind my back. He easily encircled my wrists with one hand. I tried to calm my
breathing as Gervase urged me even closer. My breasts brushed his chest, tightening
my nipples every time I inhaled.
“Most men would love to have a woman who doesn’t want anything from them
except sex,” I said wildly. “Why can’t you accept that it’s over?”
“Because it’s not.” Gervase spat out the words as I struggled against him. “I wanted
to ask you to marry me the first moment I saw you again but you didn’t seem to want
anything from me but sex. At first, I tried to pretend that that was all I wanted from you
too, but my heart knew better.” His voice gentled. “Can you imagine how I felt when
the chance to amend for my past mistakes fell into my lap and you seemed happy to
forgive me?”
I brought my chin up and stared into his intent blue eyes. “You are lying now,
Gervase. You never spoke of love, only of lust.”
He gave a strangled laugh. “Eden, give me some credit. No self-respecting
nineteen-year-old boy would have spent a whole day preparing you to take him inside
you without loving you. Every other woman I touched at that age was lucky to get
more than five minutes of self-indulgent sex from me. You were always different. You
were always special. It was always love.”
I wanted so desperately to believe him. I gave in to the temptation to rest my
forehead against his embroidered waistcoat and then summoned all my strength to
push him away.
“Go away, Gervase. I do not want this.”
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He caught and held my fingers. “I am only going to ask you this once,” he said
abruptly. “Will you marry me?”
I shook my head and refused to meet his eyes. His fingers settled under my chin
and forced me to look up at him. Still holding my gaze, he reached into his pocket and
produced a crumpled piece of parchment. I tried to snatch it from his grasp. He held it
at a safe distance.
“Where did you get that from?” I cried. “It belongs to me.”
“I found it while I waited for you to return.”
Gervase opened the parchment with a disdainful flick of his wrist. “This is, I
presume, a list of potential husbands supplied to you by my father?”
I could only stare at him, my lips firmly shut, and watch the anger build in his
suddenly arctic blue eyes. With a muttered oath, he released me and crossed to my
desk. He plucked my quill from its inkstand and spread the parchment out onto the
blotter. I clenched my teeth as the pen screeched and scratched across the face of the list.
He held my gaze as he held the parchment aloft. Ink slid and dripped onto the carpet.
Despite the mess, I could clearly read his flamboyant signature scrawled over the other
names.
“Does this make it clear to you?” He spoke through his teeth. “If you marry anyone,
it will be me.”
I backed away from him, one eye on the door.
“You are no gentleman, sir. If you were, you would take your answer and leave me
in peace.”
He leapt for me as I attempted to flee. I found myself pinned against the door.
“You are right,” he said almost soundlessly, the soft hiss of his breath warm against
my throat. “I am no gentleman. I have a special license in my pocket. You’ll marry me
tomorrow in London in front of my father and Gideon and then you’ll accompany me
to France.”
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I struggled to breathe and his arms relaxed a fraction of an inch.
“You’ll stay close to me until I go into action and you’ll sleep alongside me
wherever I tell you to.” His tone grew harsher and he fought to pull up my skirts. “I’ll
want to make love to you all the time. When you are my wife I’ll take you whenever I
want to.” He ripped off my undergarments and threw them to the floor. “You’ll forget
what it’s like not to have my cock inside you and you’ll want it as much as me.” He
braced me against the door and tore open his breeches. His penetration was fast and
rough and drove me against the door.
I gasped as he pressed deeper and harder, and gloried in the feel of him and the
sense of completion. With a sob, my hand curled into the crisp golden hair at the nape
of his neck. He shuddered.
“This is how it will be from now on, Eden. I’ll be inside you whenever I can and
you’ll not refuse me whether we’re surrounded by the whole of Wellington’s army or in
the middle of a dinner party.” With each word, he thrust deeper and deeper. “Some
days, I’ll not let you out of bed at all and you’ll lie there naked and wet from my seed
just waiting for me to fill you again.”
He increased his pace and I locked my heels in the small of his back to hold him
inside me for as long as possible. I screamed into his warm generous mouth as I came.
He followed me with a final bucking of his hips as he strove to drive even deeper. As I
collapsed against his shoulder, he put his hand around my ankles and held me locked
against him.
He smoothed the tangled hair from my face and looked down at me, his voice
gentle and hoarse.
“I told you that I’d not ask you again, but you will marry me. I might be killed in
this battle and my father’s dynastic ambitions mean nothing to me.” He cleared his
throat and pressed on. “I want you with me as my wife. I do not care if we have a child.
I just want you.”
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I kissed his mouth and his face lightened. He wiped the tears from my cheeks with
fingers that shook and began to smile.
“I forgot to mention, in my passion, that the same rules apply to you too, love.
Whenever you want me. I am yours.”
His simple words conjured up a thousand enticing prospects for sensual mischief. I
smiled back at him.
“Whenever I want you?” I asked. A hint of caution entered Gervase’s blue eyes and
he nodded. I squeezed my heels hard into the small of his back and felt his cock jump
inside me. I caught his bottom lip between my teeth and bit down with exquisite care.
“How about now?” I whispered as his tongue thrust into my mouth and stopped me from speaking.
Then he pulled back. His blue eyes searched mine, his expression vulnerable.
“Only if you tell me that you love me. Only if you want to make love and not just
have sex.”
I kissed him full on the lips and wound my arms around his neck. “Oh, I love you,
Gervase,” I murmured against his mouth. “Love me back…”
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About the Author
Kate Pearce was born and bred in England. She spent most of her childhood being
told that having a vivid imagination would never get her anywhere. After graduating
from college with an honors degree in history, she ended up working in finance and
spent even more time developing her deep inner life.