Lover Be Mine: A Legendary Lovers Novel (35 page)

Sophie’s nerves sparked at his touch, while anticipation left her lightheaded. “Waiting
will not be easy,” she lamented.

“It won’t be much longer, love. And we have our
whole future ahead of us. Passion is a Wilde family legacy, and I want to explore
every facet with you.”

His eyes had turned breathtakingly sensual, blazing with intensity. And when Jack
pulled her against him, letting her feel the heat of his body, desire flared up in
her.

“Waiting will be pure torture,” Sophie amended breathlessly.

“But fulfillment will be pure pleasure.”

“Please, Jack … pleasure me now. At the very least, kiss me. We need to make the most
of the time we have left before my father comes searching for us.”

“I am delighted to oblige, my love.”

At long last, Jack lowered his mouth to hers. Sophie gave a contented sigh at the
scorching fire he kindled inside her, although her impatience persisted. She deeply
relished his enchanting, enthralling kisses, but she would be counting down the minutes
until they could do more.

Montagu Place, London, July 1816

They woke slowly
as dawn crept into their bedchamber. Lying in Jack’s arms, pressed against his warm
bare skin, exchanging heartbeats, Sophie felt blissfully content.

They had made love three glorious times during their first magical night together
as husband and wife. And each time Jack claimed her, he’d spilled his seed deep in
her womb, giving her the most profound sense of completion she had ever known.

The rawness of desire was sated for the moment, but Sophie knew from delectable experience
that their carnal satisfaction would not last long. She also knew that Jack was set
on quelling any possible doubts about the depth of his ardor for her.

His breath stirred wisps of her hair as he brushed a sleepy kiss over her temple.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he murmured for the fourteenth time. “Just so
there’s no question.”

Sophie smiled into the warm curve of his neck. She
had demanded that he repeat his declaration of love frequently during the night, and
now she had no uncertainty whatsoever that his heart belonged to her. And no doubts,
either, that he wanted her keenly.

Just now his fingers were lazily stroking her back, but her body was so acutely sensitive
to his touch, she could detect the heightened desire in even that light caress. Likewise,
she could feel the thick, hot length of him swelling against her thigh, which was
draped across his taut abdomen.

Fresh arousal set her breasts tingling and her center thrumming with imploring need.

Raising her head from his shoulder, Sophie took in the beautiful sight of him. The
look in his eyes was softer now, yet still fierce, mirroring the powerful hunger she
felt for him.

Yearning to fill herself with him again, she eased her leg over his body and straddled
his hips. When she cradled the hardness of him snugly against her woman’s heat, Jack
fastened his smoldering gaze on her face.

For a dozen heartbeats, Sophie savored the passion on his beloved countenance before
bending to meet his lips. Her hair was a wild curtain around them as she took his
breath into her mouth and sank into his kiss, his touch, his embrace.

Their tongues danced in a languid mating ritual while his hands caressed her bare
breasts lovingly. Then Jack shifted beneath her, his loins seeking to join with hers,
and Sophie opened her body to the slow thrust of his manhood.

When he slid into her wordlessly, she took his impaling length fully inside her and
raised herself up to
sit astride him. Then holding his dark gaze, she arched her back and began to move
with him, riding him in a sensual rhythm.

As expected, their languor did not last. His arousing fingers tightened on her nipples,
and just like that, the tenor of their lovemaking changed from sensual to insistent.
Tension vibrated between them; heat, friction, cadence all increasing.

Sophie rose and fell with quickening eagerness, and Jack matched her stroke for stroke.
His hands moving to clench her hips, he drove himself upward into her body, hard and
deep. Soon her whimpers turned to moans. Fever sang in her veins, while the naked
hunger on his face stole her breath.

He was fierce, demanding, almost savage, but she welcomed his urgency. Each time he
thrust, a bolt of fire shot through her, so intense, so consuming, she thought she
might burst into flame herself.

Eventually she did burst. Her cries echoed in the quiet bedchamber as she shattered
and dissolved in a crescendo of pure joy. Jack caught her when she fell forward onto
his chest, an instant before the explosive fire swept over him also.

Through her haze of ecstasy, she heard his harsh groans, felt his shudders, the spasms
of his body as he bucked beneath her, shaking with pleasure. As his own climax throbbed
against her womb, Sophie collapsed mindlessly, her bones melting over him.

Jack remained inside her for a long while, their breaths harsh and rapid. Then, easing
her to the mattress, he curled his body around hers and held her fiercely.

Sophie was his, now and forever, he thought with dazed satisfaction. She was a part
of him.

The depth of longing he felt for her still amazed him. Jack exhaled in wonder upon
realizing how much he’d changed in the short time since meeting her. His sense of
aloneness was gone for good, and whatever loneliness he’d felt since childhood was
vanquished completely, all because of Sophie.

She had healed the last lingering wounds of his soul.

As they lay there in the aftermath of passion, their damp bodies cooling in the dim
morning light, Jack drew back to gaze at her. In appearance, she had always been a
vibrant beauty, and if anything her radiance had only grown more pronounced since
their wedding yesterday. But it was her inner beauty that had utterly captured him.

Loving her seemed so right, so perfect.

Sophie might have felt the same rightness, for when she opened her eyes, the glisten
of her tears reflected the joy he saw there.

“Good morning, wife,” he said huskily.

“Good morning, husband,” she returned, her voice a warm rasp. “What a lovely way to
awaken.”

“Indeed.”

It was entrancing to wake with Sophie in his arms. Particularly given the difficulties
he’d had in getting her into their nuptial bed. They were bound in matrimony now,
having been joined by special license the morning after her father’s capitulation.

Following the small ceremony attended by their families and a few close friends, Quinn
and Skye had thrown a grand, hastily arranged celebration ball at
the Traherne mansion in Berkeley Square, not only to welcome Sophie into their clan,
but to show the world that the feud between the Fortins and Wildes was entirely over.
Last evening, Jack had watched with growing amusement as his family overwhelmed Sophie’s
parents, showering them with such effusive warmth that Oliver Fortin turned glassy-eyed.

The Duke of Dunmore had attended the ball also, a strategy designed to show the ton
that no ill feelings remained after the dissolution of his betrothal to Sophie, and
to allow Kate and Skye to scout out potential brides for him. Reportedly, they already
had several candidates in mind. Not only had the duke greatly enjoyed the ball, he
was eagerly looking forward to finding his suitable match.

Prince Raoul had been present at the wedding ceremony as well—a development that still
astonished Jack—but hadn’t attended the ball in order to save his strength for his
surgery, which was scheduled for a few hours from now. After a careful examination
of the prince’s wound, Mr. Geary had verified the possibility of a foreign object
lodged deep in the chest tissue that could be causing Prince Raoul’s decline.

If the operation to remove any extraneous matter proved successful, the prince would
remain in Geary’s hospital for a time, then make his recovery at Tallis Court, the
Traherne family seat in Kent, rather than at a London hotel. Not only was the splendid
country estate larger and more peaceful than Jack’s London home, with more servants
to care for an invalid—or a dying man, as the case might be—away from the summer heat
and bustle of town, the arrangements
would allow the newlyweds privacy at Beauvoir, where Jack had grown up.

The magnificent Beaufort family estate, situated not far from Tallis Court, was temporarily
vacant, with Ash and Maura still away on their wedding journey, but close enough to
allow for regular visits with the rest of the Wildes.

Jack would be glad to be spared his intrusive relatives living underfoot, for despite
his love for them, he wanted the chance to begin his new life with Sophie without
the constant bombardment of their well-meaning counsel and interference.

Just then, as if remembering his commitment at the hospital, Sophie cast a sleepy
glance at the drawn window curtains. “How much time do we have left before you must
leave?”

“Two hours, perhaps.”

He would vastly have preferred to remain in bed with his bride for the entire day,
but he intended to be present for his father’s surgery to provide company and moral
support. Jack would go to the hospital alone, and depending on a positive outcome,
Sophie would join him later.

“Well then …” A soft, seductive smile claimed her mouth as she raised her arms to
encircle his neck. “I think we should make the most of the time we have left,” she
murmured, obviously sharing his thoughts.

Tightening his embrace, Jack rolled with her so that his body covered Sophie’s.

“My sentiments exactly,” he declared in a husky voice before lowering his head to
capture her ripe lips.

With pleasure still singing in their veins, they eventually dragged themselves out
of bed to bathe and dress and partake of breakfast. When he was ready to depart for
Marlebone Hospital, Sophie gave Jack a good-luck kiss that he felt in every part of
his body.

Good fortune seemed to be smiling on them. Four hours later, the surgery was complete
and Jack was sitting at the bedside of his sleeping father, in a private room reserved
for wealthy patients.

After much careful poking and prodding inside the wound and cutting away of putrid
flesh, Mr. Geary had found a tiny sliver of wood from the huntsman’s arrow lodged
in the rib-bone, no doubt the culprit that was poisoning Prince Raoul’s entire body.

After being stitched and poulticed and heavily dosed with laudanum to ease the pain,
the prince was resting soundly now. Although he looked pallid and weak, he was believed
to stand a strong chance of a full recovery, particularly given the novel blood-cleansing
treatments Mr. Geary was becoming famous for.

As Jack watched his dozing father, he found himself recalling yet another early childhood
memory—of him weeping from a skinned knee and his father consoling him.

He was returning the favor now, and the next hour gave Jack ample opportunity to think
back on his childhood in Paris, before the happiness that filled his days had been
crushed by the agonizing loss of his mother and the gruesome manner of her death,
followed by his terrifying period of captivity.

The intervening years had helped Jack to distance
himself from the pain, as had his reunion with his father, which was chiefly due to
Sophie.

Recalling his mother’s joy each time his father arrived home after a long absence
in Navartania reminded Jack of the joy he felt now, being wed to the lover of his
heart. It was no surprise, therefore, that his heart rate quickened when Sophie arrived
a short while later. Her passion-swollen lips were clear evidence of how they had
spent their wedding night, but it was the unmistakable look of love in her eyes that
made his breath catch.

She was accompanied by his entire family, who were still intent on rallying around
him, Jack realized. Kate, Skye, and Lady Isabella had been escorted by Quinn and their
Uncle Cornelius. Mrs. Pennant had come also, for she wanted to meet the prince and
to wish him well.