To Wager the Marquis of Wolverstone (17 page)

“Sabine, you don’t have to do this. Making
love with you will always feel like the first time because I love
you. Nothing else matters.”

The cheeky young girl he remembered smiled
back. “Thank you, darling, but I want to do this, it’s for me.”

Cupping her nape, Marcus leaned down and
kissed her softly. “I’m not complaining. And it definitely won’t be
only for you.”

She giggled again and it was the sweetest
sound he’d heard in a long, long time. It made his heart soar and
fill with love.

She curled her hand around him and
tentatively licked the length of him. He surged beneath her touch
and she heard his indrawn breath.

She dipped her tongue into the tiny slit
where drops appeared and she experienced her first taste of him.
Her hand explored him further and cupped his heavy sacs which
seemed to tighten and fill her hand as she stroked him with her
tongue.

Finally, she grew bolder and took him into
her mouth. He pulsed and his hips lifted slightly, pushing him
further into her mouth. She could feel tremors running through his
thighs as they squeezed tightly around her waist.

She loved the feeling of control. She could
make him moan with desire with just a simple suck and groan with
need when she removed her mouth from him.

She had no idea if she was doing this
properly but when he moaned, “Sabine, you’re my love,” and his
hands entangled themselves in her hair, she thought she must be
doing something right.

She grew bolder, taking him deeply into her
mouth, nearly into her throat, stroking him with both hands and
suckling him faster and harder.

She could feel her own body grow wet with
desire. She redoubled her efforts, feeling his grip tighten
ruthlessly in her hair, his hips moving in time with her mouth.
“Oh, God, Sabine, I’m going to come.”

She suckled even harder. That’s what she
wanted. She wanted all of him. She was shaking as much as Marcus,
whose body was taut with tension. He tried to withdraw at the last
second, but she held him fast, clasping his hips possessively. With
a roar of pleasure, he convulsed and spilled his seed down her
throat, pressing desperately into her mouth. She drank every last
drop; it was the taste of Marcus, the taste of love. She’d never
tasted any other man like that before. He was panting heavily,
pulsating in her mouth again and again and again.

He released his fingers from her hair and
fell backward on the bed. She relinquished his member with slow
licks. “You taste divine,” she murmured huskily.

“Come here, my love,” he panted. “That was
amazing.”

She rose on shaky legs and climbed up on to
the bed to lie beside him. He smiled and its warmth soaked into her
heart. He looked ravished—hair tousled, cheeks flushed but, most of
all, he looked happy. He hadn’t been happy for a long, long time.
She’d done that for him, given him back his happiness.

She gazed tenderly at him for a long moment.
“This will be a perfect memory.”

“We will make many more perfect memories, I
promise. In fact, if you give me a minute, I’ll start making more.”
He rolled onto his side and kissed her.

Just then there was a light knock at the
door. “Mama, why is your door locked?”

“Mama’s getting dressed, she’ll be out
shortly. Please go and tell Cook I’m especially hungry this
morning. I’ll have two eggs.”

They heard Alfredo’s footsteps disappear
down the hall.

“Unfortunately, privacy is scarce when you
have a child. That’s my son…”

“
Our
son,” he corrected.

Doubt crept over her features. “Are you
sure? He looks so like…”

“I’m sure. He’s a part of you. How could I
not love him?” Marcus sat up and began to button his trousers while
Sabine reached for her robe. Marcus took her hand and pressed a
gentle kiss to her palm. “We will be a family. A family filled with
love. And soon, perhaps we will have a child of our own.”

She kissed his check. “I’d like that. In
fact, I suggest we start on that tonight. I couldn’t think of a
better wedding gift than conceiving your child.”

“Those are the sweetest words I’ve ever
heard. I intend to take you up on that invitation. Now, let’s go
and introduce me to Alfredo.”

“Don’t be nervous. He’ll love you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely sure, because he’ll see that you
make me very, very happy. He’ll love you simply for that.”

Epilogue

Some four weeks later, they were married by
special license in the chapel at Marcus’s country estate, Lanreath.
The couple kept the ceremony a private affair with only close
friends and family in attendance.

Collette, Marcus’s mother, treated Sabine
like the daughter she’d never had. The pair of them got along
famously, sometimes too famously for Marcus’s comfort. At times he
felt he’d definitely lost control of his home but it was a feeling
he greatly enjoyed.

He looked across the room at where Alfredo
was playing happily with his five year old spaniel, Tudor. His
glance continued to sweep around the room, and as he gazed lovingly
at his wife and child, he felt a wave of contentment engulf him. He
walked over to Alfredo and kissed his forehead. “Tudor likes you.
Would you like him to be your dog?”

Alfredo looked up at Marcus with awe
shinning in his eyes. “You’d like to give him to me?”

He tousled the boy’s hair, and in a voice
choked with love said, “You’re my son. I’ll give you anything your
heart desires.”

Alfredo threw his arms around Marcus’s
waist. “Thank you, Papa. I’ll take special care of him.”

Papa. What a sweet word! “I know you will,
my son.”

Sabine joined them and whispered, “Thank
you,” tears of love shining in her eyes for both the boy and the
man.

Marcus slipped his arms around her shoulders
and pressed her close to his side, while taking Alfredo’s small
hand in his.

The boy looked up at him in awe. Marcus was
his hero. Life was good.

Harlow and Caitlin had made the journey for
the marriage and celebration and the duke was delighted to see his
friend content at last. Henry and Harlow couldn’t apologize enough
for their mistaken maligning of Sabine and proposed to spend the
rest of their lives in service and fealty to her, as if they were
her personal white knights.

Caitlin, although younger then Sabine,
instantly became her new best friend. Caitlin had news of her own.
She let slip that she was with child, and soon everyone at the
reception was celebrating the new generation to come.

However, all the friends noticed how quiet
and withdrawn Henry had become.

Marcus said, “It’s your turn next, Henry.
I’m sure love is getting ready to turn your world upside down
too.”

Henry looked pointedly at the ladies
present. “It’s not love that I’m lacking.” As the ladies drifted
off, the men were left to their discussion.

“I love Millicent.”

“She’s your mistress. Loyalty is not love,
Henry,” Harlow argued. “Don’t confuse the two.”

“Leave him, Harlow. I know what it’s like to
love a woman you think you can’t have. It’s hell on earth.” Marcus
smiled understandingly at his friend. “You’ll see; you’ll find a
way. It will turn out alright in the end.”

“I hope so.”

“I
know
so.”

The men raised their glasses “To love,” said
Henry.

“To love and, my friends, look at me if you
ever need confirmation of the power and potential of love.” Marcus
smiled sweetly across the room at his wife and son, and his chest
puffed out with justifiable pride. “I’m truly the luckiest man in
the world now. I’m living proof that love conquers all; that love,
with time and forbearance, overcomes all wickedness.”

Henry raised his glass. “Yes. Let’s drink to
the power of love.”

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To Wager the Marquis of
Wolverstone
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I’d like to gift you a copy of my next
novella as a way of thanking you.

If you liked my novella about Marcus and
Sabine, check out Harlow and Caitlin’s story,
To Dare the Duke of Dangerfield
, released Feb 2012,

…and watch for Henry’s story,
To Challenge the Earl of Cravenswood
coming August
2012

Visit my website for more info
www.bronwenevans.com

To Dare the Duke of Dangerfield

Let the Wicked Wagers Begin...

Lady Caitlin Southall’s temper has finally
got the better of her. She’s challenged Harlow Telford, the Duke of
Dangerfield, the most notorious rake in all of England, to a wager.
She wants her house back. The one her destitute father lost to
Dangerfield in a card game. But if she doesn’t win their bet, she
not only loses her home, she loses her dignity and pride and damn
it all, maybe her heart... For the handsome Duke has decreed, when
he wins, she must spend the night in his bed.

Harlow Telford is amused by his hellion
neighbor, Caitlin, or Cate to her friends, who seem to encompass
everyone on earth except him. When she bursts into one of his
private gatherings, he mistakes her for the entertainment. Her slap
across his face sets him straight and raises the absurd desire to
seduce the unconventional beauty into his bed. When she issues her
daft challenge to win back her father’s pile of rubble, the terms
are set. And he’ll do anything to win—except fall in love...

Now for a
BONUS

Read excerpts from my other Regency romances
in the
INVITATION TO series

INVITATION
TO SCANDAL

and

INVITATION
TO RUIN

Read on…

Excerpt...

Once inside the dark and shadowy stables,
Rufus walked deliberately towards her. She tried to move out of his
way but she wasn’t quick enough and Rheda soon found herself up
against the stable wall. Rufus’s voice was soft and sensual,
calling to her. “Men too, can tell when a woman is ripe for the
taking.”

Rheda found her gaze riveted on his lips.
Her heart began to pound in her chest. Her eyes swept across the
rest of his face and froze at the expression that greeted her. He
had gone quite still. There was soft fire in his eyes and his gaze
held her spellbound.

He reached up and slid his fingers behind
her nape. Her breathing faltered altogether. Then shockingly, he
lowered his mouth to meet hers in a feather light contact.

Once again she was immersed in a rush of
sensation at the exquisite caress. His lips were warm and firm, yet
enticingly soft at the same time – and much too tempting.

Stifling a gasp, Rheda pressed her palms
against his chest and pulled back her reeling head. “I am not a
mare to be taken on your whim.”

“So you admit you want to be taken, it is
only a matter of when.”

Anger flared, dousing her desire. She shoved
him away from her, and moved away from the wall. To her
disappointment he did not even try to stop her. She stood breathing
hard looking at his strong face, arresting and strikingly handsome
in the dim stable light. He had a beautiful mouth, his lips were
chiseled and generous and they curved now in a knowing smile as he
returned her regard.

“You are delusional,” she scathingly
stated.

“You have no idea what you are missing,
sweetheart. Unlike animals, people experience passion.”

“I am sure you would know.”

He approached across the stable floor. Her
legs were shaking too much to move away. He stood so close her
breasts almost brushed his chest, but he did not touch her. “But do
you know? Have you ever been so caught up in passion you forgot
yourself?” His voice became husky. “I’d like to kiss you
again.”

She was trapped by the fire in his eyes.
Rufus bent towards her and his warm breath caressed her mouth.
Rheda was powerless to move. His hand cupped the back of her head.
He drew her close and his other arm encircled her waist, pulling
her roughly against his solid form. She was swamped by the strength
and power of the man, yet not afraid. His lips began to play over
hers with exquisite pressure. This kiss was slow and erotic and
extremely thorough. Parting her lips, his tongue slid into her
mouth, creating an intense yearning inside her.

The effect of his kiss had her reaching to
grip his shoulders. His lips deepened the kiss, his tongue
penetrating and swirling in her mouth, stroking her desire. The
heady sensation he roused was addictive.

She could not resist letting him
continue.

Not when he was assailing her mouth with
such silken roughness… molding, tasting, teasing and ultimately
conquering. All her senses felt pummeled as his tongue worked its
magic provocatively against hers, playing a game she desperately
wanted to win but the winning strategy escaped her knowledge. Her
body pushed hard against him and a small moan of surrender escaped
her lips.

In response, his kiss only deepened.

She raised her hand to his dark chestnut
locks. They felt amazingly thick and silky. His hand that had been
holding her head slid down her shoulder, and moved to where the
square décolletage of her dress exposed the pale skin above her
breasts.