Wolfishly Yours (25 page)

“I got you this far, but you’re on your own now, Hadley,” Armand returned. “Just because I believe you doesn’t mean Livi will forgive you, and she’s my sister. I have to abide by her wishes.”

Armand believed Gray? The same Armand who was going to stay behind in England to kill Gray when he reemerged in Bath?

Gray lowered his voice once more. “Well, what’s it to be, Livi? Do you want your brothers to toss me back? Or do you want me to love you for the rest of our days together?”

Livi bit her lip as she studied the man she should have married that morning. There was only one way to tell if he meant what he said. If given the chance, would he stand proudly beside her and say his vows, or would he flee? “You truly want to marry me?” she asked.

He smiled again, and she felt it all the way to her toes. “More than anything.”

“Father Patrick!” Livi called, though she kept her eyes trained on Gray, prepared to detect the slightest bit of hesitation on his part. “Would you mind marrying Mr. Hadley and me?” The priest ought to be good for something, oughtn’t he?

“I-I…” the Irishman stammered. “That is, this is highly irregular, Miss Mayeux.”

But Livi’s life was irregular, so why should her marriage be any different? “Are you incapable of performing the ceremony?”

“I-I…Well, I suppose I could.”

Gray stared into Livi’s pretty blue eyes, trying to sort out what she was up to. Oh, he’d marry her. He’d happily marry her, but there was some nefarious plot spinning in her mind. He could see it in her eyes. Just as soon as he had her all to himself, he’d find out what it was. He glanced over at the portly priest. “I have a license, if you need it.”

The man tugged at his collar. “Do ye mean ta do this right here? Right now?”

“We should have married this morning,” Gray said. “But I was unavoidably delayed, so right now would be just the thing, Father.” He claimed Livi’s hand and turned her so they were both facing the priest.

“Liv!” Etienne Mayeux hissed. “Have you lost your mind?”

If the American Lycan didn’t shut his muzzle, Gray was going to send him crashing over the side of the brigantine. But before he could even growl, Livi said loud enough for all of the assembled onlookers to hear, “I lost my heart. Be happy for me.” Then she cast a look at the priest that could only be described as half smile, half grimace. “I don’t want any ‘obey your husband’ nonsense tossed in. We just want to say our vows, and you can save your condemnation for my brothers.”

Armand choked on a laugh. “Just because he’s wearing robes doesn’t mean he’s like Father Antonio.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Livi muttered.

The priest’s gaze flashed to Gray as though asking permission or perhaps assistance. Gray shrugged and said as loudly as Livi had, “Do what she says. I’m just happy she’ll have me.”

“But love, cherish, obey…” The man let his words die off.

Gray smirked; he couldn’t help it. “You don’t know her like I do. I’ll be the one doing the obeying, Father.”

“Can we get on with it?” Armand complained.

The priest glanced from one Mayeux brother to the other and apparently satisfied himself that neither was going to object to Livi’s demands. “Very well.” He pulled a small leather-bound bible from inside his robes. “I wasn’t plannin’ on performin’ a ceremony today. I need just a moment.”

“For the love of God,” Armand grumbled. “Just pronounce them man and wife and be done with it before someone shoots him again.”

“I’m tryin’ ta find my place.” Father Patrick scrubbed a hand across his jaw as he looked at the book in his hands. “What are yer names?”

Exasperated, Armand groaned aloud. “She’s Liviana Caresse Mayeux and he’s…” He glared at Gray. “Tell the man your name.”

“Grayson Francis Hadley.”

The priest smiled tightly. “Very well. Mr. Hadley, repeat after me. I, Grayson Francis Hadley, take thee, Liviana Caresse Mayeux, ta be my lawful wedded wife. Ta have and ta hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, ta love and ta cherish till death us do part, accordin’ ta God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

Gray sucked in a breath. After the night and day he’d had, Livi was just moments away from being his forever. He squeezed her hands in his and repeated his vows, staring into her beautiful blue eyes.

Father Patrick then turned his attention to Livi. “Yer turn, miss. I, Liviana Caresse Mayeux, take thee, Grayson Francis Hadley, ta be my lawful wedded husband, ta have and ta hold from this day forward. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, ta love, cherish, and ta ob—” He glanced up nervously at her. “—honor, till death us do part, accordin’ ta God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

A look of victory flashed in Livi’s eyes. Then she repeated, “I, Liviana Caresse Mayeux, take thee, Grayson Francis Hadley, to be my lawful wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and honor till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

The priest glanced back at Gray. “I doona suppose ye brought a ring with ye, Mr. Hadley?”

But Gray did have a ring. His mother hadn’t a multitude of possessions, but she did have an heirloom from her grandmother. A sapphire that was smaller than Gray would like, but it sparkled nearly as brightly as Livi’s eyes. Nearly. He reached into his jacket pocket and felt… nothing.

Panic surged through him. He’d lost his mother’s ring? Dear God. One of the few trinkets his mother had of any worth.

“You haven’t changed your mind?” Livi asked, anxiety lacing her words.

Gray shook his head fiercely. Heaven help him if she thought that. “No, no,” he tried to assure her. “I just seem to have lost the ring.”

“Jumping from the
Madame
Gracieuse
?” Livi suggested with a frown.

Etienne bent where he stood and then rose back to his full height, his palm outstretched. “Looking for this?” he asked. “Must have fallen out after I helped you up.”

Gray heaved a sigh of relief as he retrieved his mother’s heirloom from Livi’s brother. “Thank you,” he muttered. And he meant it. Clearly, Etienne hadn’t been in support of the marriage, so that simple gesture did go a long way. Gray turned back to Livi and couldn’t help the boyish grin that must be spread across his face. He lifted the ring up for her inspection. “I hope it fits.”

Livi heaved a sigh herself as she stretched her hand out to him. “One way to find out.”

Gray slid the sapphire on her finger, and though it was a tiny bit loose, the fit was nearly perfect.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, gazing down at the glistening blue gem.

“Yes, yes,” Armand grumbled. “Let’s finish this, shall we? Father?”

“Oh, aye. Of course.” The priest cleared his throat. “All right, Mr. Hadley. Ye may kiss yer bride,” he said, his eyes still as wary as they had been when he’d began the ceremony.

“Oh, I fully intend to,” Gray said, and then he swept Livi into his arms and asked, “Where are your chambers?”

She pointed toward the stairs and he strode off in that direction.

Gray stomped down the corridor and then the wooden steps with Livi in his arms. He wasn’t at all certain what was proper for a newly married couple, but as they
were
newly married, he didn’t give a damn about propriety.

“Gray,” she protested, as he strode purposefully toward her lodgings. “What about my brothers?”

He quirked a brow at her. “I have absolutely no interest in inviting your brothers to join us.” A grin tugged at his lips at her bewildered expression.

“Join us?” She punched him in the shoulder. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged as well as he could with her in his arms. “Before we leave this ship, you’ll be my wife in every way. I won’t take the chance that anyone will find some loophole or some way to take you from me.”

Gray stopped at the last door in the corridor. She hadn’t halted him at any of the others, so this must be the one. He shoved the door open with one hand and tilted to take her through the narrow opening without putting her down.

Marie stood at the wardrobe unpacking some of Livi’s dresses. She turned and dropped the gowns she held to the floor in surprise.

“Out!” Gray barked.

Marie’s eyebrows drew together. “I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all you want,” Gray said. “But you must do so as you leave.”

Marie punched her hands to her hips but didn’t take a step toward the door.

“Fine,” Gray muttered as he began to slowly lower Livi to her feet, letting her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor. “But I plan to kiss my bride. Among other things.” He said the last against her lips, her gasp reaching out to tickle his nose and other parts of him that were certain to have her maid escaping the room in a trice.

***

Gray’s hands threaded into Livi’s hair as she looked up at him. His lips lowered to touch hers, softly at first. A moan rose up her throat, and she reached for the back of his neck as she stepped onto her tiptoes to get closer to him.

“Bride?” Marie squeaked.

“Do you think she’s aware of how close you are to being disrobed?” Gray asked of Livi, an unrepentant grin making him look boyish. Or as boyish as he could while he looked like he could, and would, ravish her at any moment.

“You plan to disrobe me?” Livi teased. “In broad daylight?”

“You can wager upon it.” He spun her away from him and began to work the fastenings at the back of her gown.

“You may want to go, Marie,” Livi said, holding her hair to the side.

“Well,” the maid started.

“Out!” Livi and Gray both snapped at the same time.

The maid bustled past them both and out the door. Gray kicked it shut with his booted foot. When Livi’s fastenings were undone, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I cannot wait another moment to see the birthmark on the inside of your thigh.”

Livi’s heart skipped a beat as he spun her back around and began to pull the few pins that secured her hair, letting them fall to the floor with delicate little clinks. He stepped back for a moment and shrugged out of his coat, unbuttoning his waistcoat as he sat down on the edge of the small bed. When he was free of his cravat, he jerked his boots from his feet and tossed them to the floor with heavy
thunks
.

He was handsome in his shirtsleeves, but he was even more handsome when he tugged his shirt over his head. Livi’s breath stopped and she raised a trembling hand to her lips.

Gray had a fine dusting of hair across his chest, and she reached out to touch it as he stepped closer. Her hand played in the springy curls until her fingertip brushed across his nipple and he sucked in a breath.

“You are wearing too many clothes,” he warned as he gripped her gown by the sleeves and began to pull it from her shoulders. With very little finesse, he shoved it over her hips and picked her up. Then he laid her gently on the small bed wearing nothing but her chemise, her stockings, and her single slipper. She giggled to herself when she remembered what had happened to the other one.

Gray looked down at her, his gaze skeptical as he asked, “And just what part of this do you find amusing?”

She lifted one foot, pointed to her slipper, and said, “My slippers, if you must know.”

Gray jerked her remaining slipper from her foot and tossed it over his shoulder. Then he shoved her chemise up a bit and began to roll her stocking down her leg. He let his hand slide along the sensitive skin of her thigh. “Where is it?” he asked, his voice gravelly all of a sudden.

“You just threw it over your shoulder,” she said, pointing to some unknown spot behind him.

“Not the slipper,” he said, his hand sweeping higher, so high that the backs of his fingers brushed her curls.

She sucked in a breath. “I don’t believe you need any help finding
that
,” she said, her face flooding with heat. A nervous chuckle, warbling because of her uncertainty, escaped her lips.

“Where’s the birthmark?” he asked as he tugged the stocking over her foot and tossed it in the direction her slipper had gone.

“The other thigh,” she whispered, her belly suddenly flooding with heat as he rucked her gown up toward her waist and bared her thighs. With a wicked smile curving his lips, he pressed her legs apart and pulled her remaining stocking down and off.

His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the intimate flesh of her inner thigh. His thumb drew little circles that stole her breath even more. “Gray,” she protested.

“Livi,” he countered. He suddenly froze. His thumb stopped circling, and he stared down at the uppermost portion of her inner thigh. She tried to close her legs, but he would have none of that. He tsked at her as he kept her legs open. He could see all of her in that position if he raised his eyes but a scant inch. Gray lowered his head toward her thigh, and Livi squealed, pulling away from him.

But he simply held her tighter. He growled playfully as he touched his lips to that birthmark. His touch was tender until she felt his playful little teeth nibbling the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Her belly clenched, but she didn’t push him away. He was much too intent upon his task to be thwarted now. Instead, she simply lay back against the bed and closed her eyes.

The man was positively wicked, and she jumped when his hot breath blew against her nether curls.

“Shhh,” he said, as though he worked to gentle a stubborn mare. “I simply want a taste.”

A
taste?
What on earth was he referring to? Then his tongue touched her and she no longer wanted to push him away. He licked up her slit, letting his tongue press hard at that little nub that pounded so fiercely. Livi spread her legs a little further to give him access. There was no way she would push him away. Instead, she threaded her fingers into his hair. His tongue played about her flesh, around and around that little nub, until her hips could no longer remain still. Livi arched to meet his questing tongue as a wave of sensation, very much like what he’d provoked in that dark corridor the day before, built up within her.

“Gray!” she cried as the pleasure threatened to cleave her in two. But his ministrations stopped. He stilled and stood up, shucking his remaining clothes. He’d left her unfulfilled, her blood pumping within her veins so hard he could probably hear it. A sheen of sweat began to form on her body. She should have turned her head as he disrobed, but she wasn’t able to tear her eyes away. There was no way she could keep from looking at his narrow hips, his broad chest, and his manhood jutting from within a small nest of dark curls. “Come back,” she beckoned.

Gray tugged her fingers gently until she sat up just long enough for him to pull her chemise over her head. He stilled and took her in, like she was a pretty painting he wanted to study.

With a low moan, he laid her back and looked down at her nipple, its rosy tip so close to his mouth. “Dear God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed before he took her nipple into his mouth.

“Gray,” she pleaded, the breathless sound of her voice foreign to her own ears.

Gray settled himself between her thighs, rocking against her core as he came up to kiss her.

She ran her fingers into his hair and tugged gently. “Please?” she whispered. She had no idea what she needed, but she felt certain he had the answers to her questions.