To Wed a Wicked Prince (20 page)

Cornelia exchanged a look with Aurelia, who shrugged her own perplexity, and they followed Livia.

“Was the vicar giving you the obligatory pre-nuptial-night words of advice, Liv?” Cornelia asked casually as she helped Livia unfasten her gown.

“Not exactly,” Livia said, her voice muffled in the folds of her dress as she lifted it over her head. “He said you two were better suited for that particular talk, and probably more knowledgeable than he is anyway.”

Aurelia chuckled as she hung the wedding gown reverently in the linen press. “Any questions then, Liv? We’re more than ready to oblige with answers.”

“No,” Livia declared, stepping into a driving skirt of dark red broadcloth. “Most of it I know already, and I’m rather assuming that any other questions I might have will be answered empirically in the very near future. Thank you anyway.” She fastened the catch at the waist and smoothed the skirt down over her hips.

“It’s to be assumed your prince will know what he’s doing?” Cornelia said with a mischievous smile as she held the matching jacket for Livia.

Livia thrust her arms into the sleeves. “I am certainly making that assumption,” she responded, her attempt at a lofty tone collapsing on a choke of laughter. “What an absurd conversation.”

“At least it made you laugh,” Cornelia said. “So, what did your father say to trouble you, Liv?”

“What makes you think he said anything to trouble me?” Livia demanded. She fastened the tiny buttons of braided black silk down the front of the jacket, lifting her chin as she struggled with the topmost button on the high collar.

“Oh, for goodness sake, Liv, we know you too well.”

Livia sighed. “It was just a dose of reality, that’s all. And I didn’t really want to hear it. I like living in my bubble at the moment, and I don’t want it burst.”

“And is it burst?” Aurelia asked, watching her face.

Livia considered, then shook her head, the glint returning to her gray eyes. “No,” she said definitely. “No, it isn’t. I am so hungry for him, my dears, that I could swallow him whole.”

She laughed as the exhilaration returned in full measure. “I am in a turmoil of lasciviousness and I can barely keep my hands off him. If we don’t get away from here soon I shall do or say something that will shock the old biddies downstairs to their collective core.”

Her friends exchanged a relieved glance at this return of the old Livia.

“Do you think this is as elegant as we thought it was?” Livia surveyed her image in the long glass.

“Without question,” Aurelia said firmly. “It fits you like a glove.”

Livia put her hands at her waist and considered with her head on one side. Aurelia was right. She could almost have been poured into the jacket that nipped her waist and clung to the swell of her hips and bosom. “It’s a good color.”

“With your coloring you could never go wrong with red,” Cornelia agreed. She lifted the matching hat from its stand, smoothing the black plume. “Do you know where Alex is taking you?”

“No, he still won’t tell me.” Livia set the hat on top of her crown of dusky curls. The brim curled up on one side, and the black plume on the other swept to her shoulder. “There.” She gave the hat a final pat. “That’s as good as it gets.”

She turned away from the mirror and smiled at her friends. “Wish me luck.”

“All the luck in the world, love.” Cornelia embraced her tightly, then moved aside for Aurelia.

Livia clung to them both for a long moment, then straightened, putting back her shoulders with a decisive gesture. “Let’s go.”

Alex came to the foot of the stairs as the three women came down. He reached for Livia when she was still five steps up, catching her around the waist and swinging her down beside him. “At last,” he said. “I was about to come in search.” He took her hand and led her through the crowd of guests and outside into the bright and frosty late afternoon.

His curricle stood at the gate, a groom holding the bridles of a handsome pair of match bays who were tossing their heads and shifting their hooves, their breath steaming in the cold air.

“We’d better not be going far,” Livia muttered with a shiver.

“Indeed, Prokov, an open carriage in the middle of December.” The vicar sounded disapproving as he bent to kiss his daughter good-bye.

“Don’t worry, sir. There’s a lap robe and a hot brick for Livia’s feet,” Alex said with cheerful insouciance. He lifted his bride without ceremony into the carriage, shook hands briefly with his father-in-law, and jumped up beside her.

It was apparent to all and sundry that this bridegroom was very anxious to be away with his bride.

Alex took up the reins. “Let go their heads, Jake.”

The groom released the bridles and eagerly the horses started forward. The lad jumped up behind as the carriage went past him and took his place on the board at the rear of the curricle, balancing easily as Alex dropped his hands and the horses obediently increased their pace.

“Warm enough, sweeting?”

Livia felt a prickle of pleasure at the first endearment he had ever used. She murmured her assent, snuggling into the fur lap robe as she looked up at the sky where the evening star had just appeared.

L
IVIA WASN’T SURE HOW LONG
they drove down country lanes beneath a clear and increasingly star-filled sky. She was warm as toast in her fur wrap and her feet were blissfully cozy. Alex drove in silence, but the hint of a smile played over his fine mouth and every now and again he would look sideways as if to check that she was still there, and then the smile would broaden and his eyes would glitter as if reflecting the starlight.

Livia was content with the silence. She was both tired and not tired, inhabiting a quiet world of anticipation until Alex turned the horses onto a narrow lane that threaded through a thicket of birch and beech towards the lights of a cottage in a clearing ahead.

She sat up. “Are we here…where are we?”

“Journey’s end,” Alex said, drawing rein on a gravel sweep in front of the cottage. Actually, Livia realized, it was a lot more than a cottage. A substantial brick lodge with a slate roof, smoke curling from two chimneys, yellow light showing from behind diamond-paned windows. There were thatched outhouses and stables to one side, and all around the ancient trees of the New Forest.

“Whose house is this?” she asked, wondering exactly where in the forest they were, and how Alex, a stranger to this part of the world, could so unerringly have found his way here.

“Mine,” he said calmly, jumping down from the curricle. “Or rather yours. Come, madam wife?” He reached up and lifted her from the carriage.

Livia put her arms around his neck as he held her and rested her head on his shoulder. Her tiredness had vanished. Very soon now, finally, she would be making love with this extraordinary, generous, impulsive man. She smiled dreamily at him in the moonlight. “When did you buy a house in the New Forest?”

He leaned down and kissed the corner of her mouth, cradling her tightly. “I didn’t buy it myself, my agent found it and acquired it for me,” he replied. “I thought you might appreciate having a place in a countryside you know well, and that’s also quite close to your father. It’s a wedding present, my love.”

Livia was stunned. She knew how much he enjoyed giving presents, the more extravagant the better pleased he was, but this was such a thoughtful, such a
caring
present. While she struggled to find words the front door opened, releasing a flood of golden lamplight across the gravel.

“Ah, and here’s Boris,” Alex said. He strode with her to the open door. “You must meet Boris, my majordomo. You will find that he runs an admirably smooth household and you may safely leave all tedious domestic details in his more than capable hands.”

“Put me down, then,” Livia whispered.

“No,” he said with a chuckle. “Not until I can put you where I want you…” His eyes narrowed and his lips curved in a suggestive smile. “I imagine you can guess where that is.”

She felt herself blush as her body responded to the soft promise in his voice. She couldn’t begin to offer a dignified greeting to the stately black-suited gentleman, who, seeming not to notice his new mistress’s present position, bowed low and said in faintly accented English, “Congratulations, Princess Prokov.”

“Thank you, Boris,” she managed to murmur. She raised her head from Alex’s shoulder and looked around the square, well-appointed hall. Stone-flagged floor, paneled walls, silver sconces. The staircase was a curving sweep of shallow steps that led up to a galleried landing.

Alex’s eyes followed hers upwards and he chuckled. “Yes, we’re wasting time.”

“Everything is arranged as you ordered, Prince,” Boris said with another bow.

“Good.” Alex nodded with ill-concealed impatience. He turned to the stairs and strode up them, holding Livia tightly against him.

She could feel his heart beating fast against her breast and her own speeded in response. At the head of the stairs Alex strode around the gallery and stopped at a door. “Lift the latch, love, my hands are full.”

Livia leaned sideways and lifted the latch. Alex kicked the door open and carried his burden within, kicking it shut behind him. He carried her to the bed, leaned down, and deposited her with a little thump in the middle of the coverlet. Then he stood looking down at her, his brilliant blue gaze burning as his eyes ran over her supine figure.

Livia licked suddenly dry lips. She felt the now familiar tightening in her belly, the pulsing in her loins, but there was something else too. A tiny tremor of apprehension blossomed deep within her as she felt the intent purpose in his gaze. In a short while her body would no longer belong to herself. Alex would possess her in every sense, and while she longed for it, she also now feared it.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Livia,” Alex said softly, reading the spark of uncertainty in her wide gray eyes as she looked up at him. He reached down and pulled her into a sitting position. “You can’t make love in a hat.” It was a sufficiently prosaic observation to break the intensity for a moment, and the spark of apprehension became a mere flicker and then died. Alex unpinned her hat from her curls and tossed it with a flick of his wrist onto a nearby chair. His eyes were hooded, his mouth a soft curve as he leaned over and began to take the pins from her hair, releasing the knot of curls to cascade to her shoulders. He ran his hands through the dark mass, a look of total concentration on his face.

“How I’ve been longing to do this since I first laid eyes on you.” He slipped his hand beneath the fall of her hair to palm her scalp, and then with aching slowness he brought his mouth to hers.

A tremor ran through her, a slow, spreading warmth, and she leaned into him, her lips parting beneath his as his tongue demanded entrance. And now that there was no need for restraint, Livia felt herself slipping away from the center of the self that she knew. She was aware only of her body. Her nipples burned against the fine lawn of her chemise beneath the tight-fitting jacket as her tongue joined in the dance with his, her own hands pushing up beneath the fair hair, feeling the shape of his head with renewed delight.

Alex drew his head back slowly, still clasping her neck. He looked at her face, framed in her tousled curls, the gray eyes heavy and languorous with passion, her lips kiss-reddened. “Stay right there, don’t move.”

He eased his dark silk coat off his shoulders, without taking his eyes off her. He unfastened his white silk cravat and tossed it to join his coat on the chest at the foot of the bed. His waistcoat followed, and as Livia watched in breathless suspense he unbuttoned the tiny studs of his white shirt.

Livia had felt the muscular power in his chest and shoulders, she had inhaled the warm fragrance of his skin, but nothing had prepared her for the sight of his naked torso. He turned to throw the shirt onto the chest and the muscles rippled down his long, lean back. When he turned towards her again, she gazed in delight at the narrow waist, the trail of dark hair disappearing into the waistband of his britches, and a gleam of amusement showed for a moment in his luminous eyes as they watched her expression.

Methodically, and without apparent haste, he took off his shoes and stockings. His fingers went to the buttons of his britches and Livia moistened her lips again. He stepped out of his britches and once again gave her his back as he put them with his other clothes on the chest.

Livia had glimpsed his sex before when she had pleasured him, but she hadn’t really absorbed the sight. Now she drank in his back view, his firm buttocks, the slim hips, the long, muscular thighs, and the hard calves. And when he turned slowly to the bed again her eyes lingered on his concave belly and the erect flesh that rose from a curly nest of black hair.

Clothed, the prince was a most elegant figure. Naked, he was utterly magnificent. She held out her arms to him and he leaned over her, cupping her chin in the palm of his hand, bringing his mouth to hers. “Do I please you, my love?” he murmured.

“Oh, yes…oh, most definitely,” Livia responded in a whisper. She stroked the smooth roundness of his bare shoulder, ran her hand down his arm, exploring the feel of his hard biceps. Prince Prokov was a man-about-town, an excellent dancer, an accomplished horseman, but he had the hard, athletic body of a man who knew how to wield a sword, a man who had known combat. Of course, Livia knew he had been a soldier, but until this moment, she had thought of his military service as more ceremonial than anything else. Feeling his strength beneath her hand as she explored his body, she knew how mistaken she had been.

“I think it’s time to even the score,” he said softly, taking her hand away from his hip, where it had been tracing the sharp, jutting bone of his pelvis. “I would look at you now, my love.”

Bringing one knee onto the bed, he began to unfasten the braided buttons of her jacket.

He worked quickly and slipped the unbuttoned jacket off her shoulders. Her breasts swelled softly above the lacy bodice of her chemise and her nipples were hard and dark beneath the thin material. Alex slid a finger inside the neckline of the chemise, reaching down to the erect crown of her breast.

He slipped the straps of the chemise off her sloping shoulders and bared the opalescent mounds of her breasts. His hands cupped their fullness and his tongue traced a moist path over them, flicking insistently at her nipples. Livia gave a little gasp and he raised his head swiftly, but saw only a wondrous glow in her eyes.

He kissed the hollow of her throat as he found the hooks of her skirt. They flew apart with the ease of temptation and he half lifted her off the bed, holding her against him as he pushed the material away from her to gather in a heap at her ankles. “Lie back and let me rid you of these boots.”

She obeyed, falling back on the bed, lifting her legs so that he could unbutton her boots. He tossed them aside and then leaned over her again, letting his flat palm roam over her body, her warmed skin a pearly pink beneath the filmy fabric of her chemise. His flat palm stroked over her belly, pressing the white silk against her skin, molding her body with the fine material. Slowly now he ran his hand up beneath her chemise, palming the roundness of her knees, sliding up her silk-stockinged thighs. When he reached her lace-trimmed garters, he smiled.

“I think I need to see what I’m doing now,” he murmured. He took the hem of the garment and drew it up over her thighs. Her skin leaped, and the secret recesses of her body moistened in anticipation of his touch. He unfastened her garters and unrolled her silk stockings inch by inch.

Livia was acutely aware that a mere strip of lawn kept her from complete nakedness. Her chemise was down to her waist and up to the apex of her thighs, and the air on her bared skin was a seductive, sensual breath. “Lift up,” he instructed softly, patting her hip. She lifted her hips and he drew the last filmy shreds of covering away from her.

And then he spoke and his words shocked her. “Stand up,” he commanded quietly. “It’s time to dress you.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending, and he took her hands and drew her upright and off the bed. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

“I’ll show you,” he said. “Stand still for me and let me look at you properly.” He took a step back, running a long, lascivious look from her head to her toes. “Mmm,” he murmured. “It doesn’t really need any improvement, but one or two minor additions might add a little spice. Close your eyes now.”

Livia was too stunned and bewildered to argue. She simply closed her eyes and waited, standing naked in the middle of the chamber. She heard him moving around, opening something, and then felt him come back to her.

“Keep your eyes closed.” His fingers were in her hair, threading something into her curls. Her eyelids fluttered and he said again, “Keep them shut. I haven’t finished yet.”

She felt something cold and heavy go around her neck and her hands fluttered up to feel what it was. But he seized them swiftly. “Not yet.”

Something circled first one wrist and then the other, and then she felt a pinch on both her earlobes. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“In a minute,” he responded. He put his hands on her shoulders and moved her forward. “All right, now you can open your eyes.”

Livia’s eyes flew open and her mouth opened at the same time. She gazed at her image in the long cheval glass. Stark naked in the soft lamplight, but adorned with bloodred rubies. A three-stranded collar circled her neck, a silver fillet studded with the gems twined in her curls, two ruby studs glowed in her ears, and her wrists were banded with two strands apiece.

“Dear God,” she murmured, awed by her image. “I look like a pagan sacrifice.”

Alex laughed. “They really do suit you. I debated between diamonds and rubies, but I think that red fire is wonderful with your hair and eyes.” He stood behind her, sliding his hands around her, holding her breasts on his palms. “Now watch,” he said.

Livia gazed into the mirror as he began to touch her again, his hands moving over her body. She saw her nipples peak anew beneath a flickering fingertip, and saw her skin take on a soft glow as arousal built once more. Her legs shifted on the richly hued carpet as his hands cupped her pubic mound, and she leaned back against him with a soft moan. His fingers parted the curly tangle covering her sex and she saw her eyes open wide in sudden surprised delight when his knowing touch found the little nub of flesh that hardened instantly beneath his caress. It was both shockingly decadent and intensely exciting to watch her own arousal as she stood naked but for the rubies glowing against her white skin. Her eyes were heavy, her countenance somehow soft, her parted lips red and moist.

Her buttocks and thighs tensed as the coil wound ever tighter and his touch grew more insistent, bringing her to a climax of delight that was even more powerful than the first time. She leaned back against him, her pelvis thrust forward towards the mirror, her legs opened for him. She could see the moisture gleaming on her thighs, the rosy pink of her sex, and she let her head fall back onto his shoulder and gave herself to the pulsing glory that filled her.

Alex held her up as her knees buckled. He slid a hand beneath her knees and lifted her, carrying her swiftly to the bed. He laid her down, urgently now, his touch no longer delicate as he knelt astride her and lifted her bottom on the shelf of his palms. With one thrust he drove into her still pulsating body, moist and ready for him. His entrance was smooth, her body unresisting.