Lover Be Mine: A Legendary Lovers Novel (30 page)

The contented, almost shy smile Sophie gave him made his heart soar. Easing over her,
Jack pressed his cock between her thighs and filled his hands with her bare breasts.

Her nipples peaked against his palms as he slowly thrust inside her. He felt her glide
lusciously around him, then held himself still, gazing down at her. This thing between
them … this most basic and primal of human needs … was something exquisite. Something
precious. Being inside Sophie made him feel a sense of rightness, of completeness.

She felt it too, he realized as he stared into the blue depths of her eyes, which
were dreamy and a little drugged. Increasing his rhythm, he stroked in and out of
her. With each thrust, he claimed her, marking her for his own, his urgency intensifying.
He couldn’t get enough of her. Wanting filled his entire body. So much heat and need
and pleasure, he thought as she began to convulse again, this time around him.

Feeling her ripple and contract in her ecstasy gave
Jack a sense of triumph. Sophie was his now, whether she realized it or not.

He would win her surrender in the end, he vowed to himself. It was a battle he
had
to win. For he couldn’t endure the thought of letting her go.

With gasping breaths, Sophie returned to awareness to find Jack’s hard length still
lodged deep inside her. His eyes were heavy and black with desire as he stared down
at her and repeated his proposal.

“Marry me, Sophie,” he urged in a hoarse whisper.

It was an emotionally charged moment, as powerful as she could ever remember. She
wanted with all her heart to give in to him. Hot rivulets of desire ran through her
when Jack began to shake with his own release—but then suddenly, he withdrew from
her body.

As he pulled away, she was shocked by the fierce disappointment that filled her in
his place. A foolish notion, considering what could happen if he spilled his seed
within her. An ironic notion as well, considering that they both were engaged in helping
unwed mothers.

Yet Sophie was stunned by the sudden realization of how badly she wanted Jack’s children.

He didn’t leave her entirely, however. Instead he let his seed gush harmlessly on
the grass, then returned to her side and wrapped one arm around her waist.

His eyes were tender and warm as he gazed back at her. Seeing that rare light there,
Sophie froze, her heart trapped by his spell. She knew that Jack’s reasons for marrying
were far more rational than ardent.
Yet she had no doubt what she was feeling.
Desire. Love. For him
.

Another bright shock flashed through her. Jack had lured her into love, despite her
best efforts to resist him. She couldn’t help herself. He’d reached deep inside of
her with his sweet seduction, his sensuality and tenderness, his reckless passion.
And she had responded with her heart, not her head.

In truth, her strategy to cherish their final days together had failed utterly. She’d
indulged her forbidden fantasies so that she could face a future without Jack, but
the lines between fantasy and reality had blurred.

They were still blurred. How could she continue to refuse to wed him when she loved
him?
Because he doesn’t love you in return
, came the unbidden answer.

Sophie flinched away from that painful thought, preferring instead to credit her instincts.
When Jack touched her like this, when he looked at her with such incredible warmth,
she felt loved, whether or not she was fantasizing.

Besides, there were perfectly rational arguments to be made in his favor, clamored
an insistent voice inside her head. Even without love, he was making an enormous commitment
to her by choosing the formal act of marriage. He was also exposing himself to the
immense pain of reconciling with his father. Jack’s willingness to put her welfare
above his own humbled her. Didn’t she owe him the same consideration?

His eyes were mesmerizing, holding her spellbound as he laced his fingers with hers
and pressed her yet again to marry him.

“We Wildes believe in taking fate into our own hands, Sophie. Isn’t it time that you
did the same?”

Her answer had to be
Yes
. No matter how she’d tried to believe that she could live without Jack, she knew
now that it would be impossible.

Their likelihood for marital bliss was still highly in doubt. They were far, far away
from building a life together. But at least they would have passion. And if she had
the slightest chance for happiness with Jack, she had to take it. In fact, she yearned
to take it. The longing inside her was so strong, she shook with it.

“Yes,” Sophie whispered.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I will marry you, Jack.…”

A spark flared in his eyes, and he buried his fingers deep in her hair in preparation
of kissing her.

“… but I still must persuade my parents to agree first.”

The spark dimmed somewhat. “Must you? We could marry in secret now and present them
with a done deed.”

“I could never hurt them like that.”

She saw perception and tenderness in his eyes, as if he understood her struggle. “I
know. We’ll find a way to end the feud, love. I have faith that we can secure their
approval if I offer them the ultimate prize—a prince for their daughter’s husband.
After I confer with my father, we’ll return to England and confront your parents with
the news. We’ll face them together.”

“Yes.”

She would have to make them listen, Sophie vowed, for she intended to fight for Jack’s
love.

“Then it’s settled,” he said solemnly. “Now, let us seal our pledge.…”

Releasing her hair, he anchored her head between his palms and took her mouth in a
kiss of complete possession, making Sophie want to melt. Jack filled her with a sense
of promise, of hope. The heartfelt hope that he was right.

Two hours later, Jack secured an interview with Prince Raoul and shared his decision.
“Miss Fortin accepted my proposal on the condition that her parents agree to our union,
so I am willing to accept the throne.”

The relief and gladness on his father’s face were unmistakable. “
Mon dieu
 … I hoped as much.”

There were tears in his eyes, Jack saw. When his father reached out to embrace him,
Jack stood stiffly—and yet another brief flash of memory from his childhood assaulted
him. Images and emotions … the laughter, the happiness, the devotion.

Pushing aside his conflicting feelings, Jack extricated himself and stepped back while
striving for less sentiment. “You may regret turning over your kingdom to a novice.
When I return here from England, I will make an effort to learn my duties as your
successor, but it may take a good deal of training.”

“
Non
,” Prince Raoul said fervently, “I will have no regrets. Indeed, continuing my bloodline
is of far more importance to me than finding a ruler for my country. It may be difficult
for you to understand at your youthful age, Jack, but when you confront your own mortality,
your priorities change. The truth is … I yearn for my own flesh and blood to carry
on
my line. Your children will save the House of de Villars. If I can have that, I can
die content.”

The mention of his potential children affected Jack strangely. He wanted children
with Sophie, more than he would have thought possible. An irrational desire, given
the effort he’d made not to get her with child.

Yet he didn’t care for his father’s defeatist attitude—another strange development,
considering that he’d spent his youth wishing for the man’s demise.

“You might not have to die so soon, your highness. I spoke to my cousin Traherne yesterday
and described your injuries. He wants to examine your wound himself and obtain a medical
history from your doctors here, so that he can confer with our best physicians in
England.”

With his keen mind and lust for adventure, Quinn had dabbled in various sciences in
the past, including medicine, although he was more recently intrigued by daring inventions
such as the steam engine, which he prophesied would change the future of the world.

“As I told you,” Jack added, “Traherne has a colleague who is rather brilliant in
his unorthodoxy and who may be able to aid you.”

Prince Raoul gave a wistful smile and wiped away a tear with the back of his hand.
“It is enough that you are willing to be my son,” he said gravely, with utter sincerity.

My son
.

Strangest of all, Jack didn’t wince at those words.

A procession of
carriages left the royal palace the following morning, heading for Paris. Although
the return journey was more enjoyable than the original for Jack, he still felt impatient
and on edge.

Before reaching Dijon the first day, Ash and Maura parted ways from the family to
continue on their wedding trip, but the other Wildes provided lively camaraderie and
laughter for Sophie during the drive through France, switching carriages frequently
in order to entertain and quiz her.

For propriety’s sake, Jack couldn’t touch her as he wanted, nor could he share Sophie’s
bed when they twice stopped overnight at inns along the way. The passion they felt
for each other, however, was evident in the silent looks and subtle gestures they
exchanged. At the same time, he knew they were both fighting the underlying fear that
their mission to win her parents’ approval was doomed. Furthermore, despite Jack’s
determination to bend fate to his will, he first had to placate Sophie’s crotchety
great-aunt.

Upon arriving at the Hôtel Portois, they discovered
that Mrs. Pennant had regained sufficient health and energy to ring a peal over his
head for his scandalous conduct. But Jack’s declaration of intent stopped her tirade
right in its tracks.

“I mean to marry Sophie, ma’am, and I would very much like your blessing, as well
as your help in overcoming the Fortins’ objections to our union.”

His marital aspirations mollified the elderly lady enough that she sniffed. “What
choice do I have but to keep this disgraceful affair quiet? You know very well I would
never broadcast to the world that you abducted her. But you confirmed my belief that
you are the worst sort of scoundrel.”

Sophie spoke up to defend him. “Jack is not really a scoundrel, Aunt. I’ve known he
is a good man since I first saw him at the Arundel Home for Unwed Mothers, where he
is a trustee and major patron.”

Her gaze sharpened. “Is he now?” she asked, sounding impressed in spite of herself.
“I am only acquainted with the director there, not the trustees.”

Sophie smiled up at him. “Jack does not like to advertise his altruism, but it is
one of many reasons I want him for my husband.”

“At least you have finally come to your senses,” Mrs. Pennant grumbled. “Very well,
then, I shall do what I can to help you challenge your obstinate father, Sophie.”
She pinned her gaze on Jack once more. “But if you ever attempt anything so outrageous
again, my lord, I swear I will have your ears.”

Jack thought it wise to assuage the lady’s ill-temper with a bland reply, and he kissed
her wrinkled hand for good measure, which set her to flushing and
earned him an exasperated dismissal as she muttered something about charming rogues.

Jack expected his confrontation with Oliver Fortin to be far more difficult. Upon
their return to England, the tension rose the closer they came to London. Sophie couldn’t
hide her fear that her father wouldn’t relent. Accordingly, it was agreed that she
and her aunt would settle in at the Pennant mansion before Jack made an appearance
there.

He saw them safely to their front doorstep, where they exchanged fond farewells with
his family. Afterward, the remaining Wildes traveled on to their own elegant Mayfair
homes and Jack drove to Montagu Place, where he spent the afternoon catching up on
his business and personal affairs. When Sophie’s note arrived by messenger, asking
him to call after dinner, Jack dressed carefully and arrived at the Pennant abode
feeling like a knight going into battle for his lady fair.

He was admitted by the butler and shown into the drawing room, where the family was
gathered. Mr. Fortin was perusing a newspaper, while Sophie read aloud to her mother
and her great-aunt.

Mrs. Pennant welcomed Jack readily and Sophie favored him with a quiet smile, but
Fortin gave an abrupt start upon seeing him. “What the devil is he doing here, Eunice?”

“He is properly paying his respects to me,” replied Mrs. Pennant calmly. “Did I not
tell you, Oliver? Lord Jack was in Paris with us for the last fortnight, at my invitation.”

At her bald announcement, Mrs. Fortin looked
troubled, while a scowl pulled Mr. Fortin’s brows together.

“At
your
invitation? How could you have jeopardized Sophie’s betrothal so callously? Dunmore
will be severely displeased.”

Thinking it time to state his case, Jack approached the armchair where Fortin was
seated. “My circumstances have changed since I last spoke to you, sir. I am here to
apply for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”