hand rising until he cradled her face in his hands. Hero tilted her head back to look up at him, her hands as if by their own will rising to his chest. He gazed down at her, her face partially cast in shadows in the waning light of the hall. “You are a beautiful woman, Lady Ayr, but not the only one in the world. Beauty only begins an attraction such as this. I believe there is much more awaiting us.”
“Much more?” she asked breathlessly as he stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “How much more?”
How much more indeed, Ian thought. He wanted her as his own. That much he had already acknowledged, but Ian didn’t want her for only a brief affair. He wanted her forever at his side. Good God, he was truly going insane to be thinking such nonsense after only a few days’ acquaintance. Especially when Ian had never considered sincerely courting a woman in all his thirty years.
Bu t he was the marquis, some rational part of him argued in justification. He would need an heir someday, and for that he would need a wife. The idea of possessing this incredible woman, having her for his own, roused some raw, primal urge in Ian. He could have her.
Ian brushed his lips across her cheek before whispering in her ear, “So much more.”
He felt her shiver at the words as he trailed his lips lightly across her jaw until they hovered over hers. Ian felt her sigh, felt her hands clench against his shirt, inviting his lips to take hers.
“Daughter!” Beaumont bellowed, and Hero jumped away from Ian with a flush of embarrassment. She swallowed deeply, her tongue darting out to wet her suddenly dry lips. Ian’s eyes followed the motion and darkened with a desire even Hero could recognize.
“I believe your father has finally fallen into disfavor with me,” Ian said drily.
“Daughter, where are you?” her father yelled again. Suddenly the whole situation sent a shaft of humor and joy spearing through her and Hero bit her lip to stifle the grin that sprang to her lips. Ian’s touching words had whisked away the lingering uncertainty she’d had regarding his motives and left her with a bubble of elation that welled up inside of her until it spilled over in a burst of laughter.
“You think this is amusing?” Ian asked , though his lips were twitching now as well.
Hero laughed again, covering it with her hand to hide it as she leaned weakly against one of the nearby columns, losing her breath to her tightened corset. “Yes!”
Ian leaned in and took her lips in a brief but fierce kiss. Hero’s heart soared and pounded with excitement as he pulled away with a promise. “Be warned, fair Hero, one of these days, I’m going to seize the opportunity to kiss you properly.”
“Hero!”
“In here, Papa!” Hero called, dashing to the door before turning back and dipping a saucy curtsey to Ian. “I will look forward to it, my lord.”
Ian grinned back at her and Hero turned away , unable to stop the smile that stretched her cheeks.
“What is it, Papa?”
Her father bore the expression of a child who had lost his favorite toy. His cravat was skewed to the side and the rest of his clothing was equally rumpled. “I cannot find my rooms.”
“Oh, Papa,” Hero sighed, reaching up to straighten his cravat.
The duke’s day nurse, Simms, appeared breathlessly in the hall. “I’m sorry, m’lady. He got away from me.”
“No matter, Simms,” Hero said, looking back to find Ian lingering in the door of the study. A part of her wanted to remind Simms of the importance of his duties so that she might return to Ian. To see if he would hold on to his promise to kiss her properly right away.
“Who is that?” Beaumont asked , pointing at Ian.
“That’s the marquis, Papa, remember?” Sympathy wiped away the last of the humor in Ian’s expression and Hero knew the moment for flirtation and romance was past.
“Your husband?”
With
“Much more?” she asked breathlessly as he stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “How much more?”
How much more indeed, Ian thought. He wanted her as his own. That much he had already acknowledged, but Ian didn’t want her for only a brief affair. He wanted her forever at his side. Good God, he was truly going insane to be thinking such nonsense after only a few days’ acquaintance. Especially when Ian had never considered sincerely courting a woman in all his thirty years.
Bu t he was the marquis, some rational part of him argued in justification. He would need an heir someday, and for that he would need a wife. The idea of possessing this incredible woman, having her for his own, roused some raw, primal urge in Ian. He could have her.
Ian brushed his lips across her cheek before whispering in her ear, “So much more.”
He felt her shiver at the words as he trailed his lips lightly across her jaw until they hovered over hers. Ian felt her sigh, felt her hands clench against his shirt, inviting his lips to take hers.
“Daughter!” Beaumont bellowed, and Hero jumped away from Ian with a flush of embarrassment. She swallowed deeply, her tongue darting out to wet her suddenly dry lips. Ian’s eyes followed the motion and darkened with a desire even Hero could recognize.
“I believe your father has finally fallen into disfavor with me,” Ian said drily.
“Daughter, where are you?” her father yelled again. Suddenly the whole situation sent a shaft of humor and joy spearing through her and Hero bit her lip to stifle the grin that sprang to her lips. Ian’s touching words had whisked away the lingering uncertainty she’d had regarding his motives and left her with a bubble of elation that welled up inside of her until it spilled over in a burst of laughter.
“You think this is amusing?” Ian asked , though his lips were twitching now as well.
Hero laughed again, covering it with her hand to hide it as she leaned weakly against one of the nearby columns, losing her breath to her tightened corset. “Yes!”
Ian leaned in and took her lips in a brief but fierce kiss. Hero’s heart soared and pounded with excitement as he pulled away with a promise. “Be warned, fair Hero, one of these days, I’m going to seize the opportunity to kiss you properly.”
“Hero!”
“In here, Papa!” Hero called, dashing to the door before turning back and dipping a saucy curtsey to Ian. “I will look forward to it, my lord.”
Ian grinned back at her and Hero turned away , unable to stop the smile that stretched her cheeks.
“What is it, Papa?”
Her father bore the expression of a child who had lost his favorite toy. His cravat was skewed to the side and the rest of his clothing was equally rumpled. “I cannot find my rooms.”
“Oh, Papa,” Hero sighed, reaching up to straighten his cravat.
The duke’s day nurse, Simms, appeared breathlessly in the hall. “I’m sorry, m’lady. He got away from me.”
“No matter, Simms,” Hero said, looking back to find Ian lingering in the door of the study. A part of her wanted to remind Simms of the importance of his duties so that she might return to Ian. To see if he would hold on to his promise to kiss her properly right away.
“Who is that?” Beaumont asked , pointing at Ian.
“That’s the marquis, Papa, remember?” Sympathy wiped away the last of the humor in Ian’s expression and Hero knew the moment for flirtation and romance was past.
“Your husband?”
With
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