Page 107
Story: Ten Lords for the Holidays
His lips pressed against hers and Emma nearly lost her breath. She kissed him back for all she was worth and would have kept kissing him if he hadn’t lifted his head to grin down at her. “No more my lording me, sunshine. When I make love to you, I want to hear you call out my name.”
When he made love to her?Emma would have collapsed into a pool of mush if he hadn’t been holding her. “You want me to call you Alden?” she said, hoping to keep from swooning.
But he made a sour face that reminded her of the boy she’d first met so many years before. “Alden?” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you even know that name. Only my father ever called me that. And I don’t want to think abouthimwhen I have you in my arms, Emma.”
Well, of course, she knew his Christian name. It was something a lady made a point of knowing when she was madly in love with a dashing gentleman.
“Heath,” he informed her. “Heath, from here on out.”
“Heath.” She grinned up at him. “I’ve always liked that.”
One of his dark brows rose in amusement. “I am so very glad to hear it. I hope to hear you say it often.”
“When you make love to me,” she added boldly. But then theywerein a secret room and there was a very lovely bed just a few feet away. And he had said he meant to marry her. “When do you suppose you’ll do that?”
“Are you tempting me?” Before she knew what had happened, Emma found herself lying across the bed with Heath hovering above her. “You ought to be careful, sunshine, who you say such things to. You might find yourself in bed with the fellow.”
Emma giggled as giddiness swept over her. “You’re the only one I’ll ever say such things to. You’re the only man I ever want to be in bed with.”
A genuine smile settled on his face right before he dipped his head to capture her mouth once more. His tongue swept inside her mouth, tangling with hers, making her lightheaded. He tasted of wine and the sweetest heaven she’d ever known. One of his strong hands cupped her jaw while the other slowly trailed down the side of her neck, sending shivers racing across her skin. His touch was magical, better than she’d ever imagined.
Heath lifted his head to gaze at her. “We shouldn’t do this, you know. I should go right now to Lord Norland, beg for your hand, and we should have the banns called this Sunday.”
“Ahem.” Someone cleared his throat from the threshold and Emma froze, as did Heath.
They both turned their heads towards the sound to find Emma’s father wearing a most unhappy scowl, standing just inside the secret room with an armful of liquor decanters.
“Actually,” her father began, “under the circumstances, I don’t think we should wait for the banns to be read. What do you think, Heathfield?”
CHAPTER9
Heath leaptto his feet and helped Emma find hers. Thank God he hadn’t started undressing her. Of all the people to stumble upon them, Lord Norland had to be the very worst. Well, the Duke of Danby would be just as bad, to be honest. Danbyhadthreatened to put Heath’s head on a pike, after all.
“Uh, sir,” Heath stammered. Damn it to hell, he never stammered. But what could he say?Sorry you found me seducing your daughter. She did agree to marry me first.Not unless he wanted a bullet in his skull.
The marquess’s gaze shifted from Heath to Emma and back again. “Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your engagement to my daughter.”
“Papa.” Emma started towards her father, but Heath refused to relinquish his hold on his bride-to-be.
“Thank you, Lord Norland.” He held his head high. Regardless of how the marquess found them, it didn’t change the fact that Heath had every intention of seeing Emma Whitton as his wife as soon as possible. “We are quite happy.”
“You should be,” Norland clipped out. “How fortunate you are that my brother can perform the ceremony on the morrow. He ought to have something useful to do while he’s here.” Then he gestured back towards the library with his head. “Out of here, both of you. No one is even supposed to know of this room.”
But Norland knew of it and had added a four-poster bed since the last time Heath had been there. Heath didn’t even want to think of why that could possibly be, so he nodded in acquiescence and led Emma back towards the room’s only exit.
“Papa,” Emma said softly as they brushed past him. “What are you doing with all of those bottles?”
Norland’s scowl darkened. “Never you mind.”
“Hiding them from Uncle Henry?” she asked.
“Emma,” Norland growled, “I am barely managing to keep my temper. Return to the drawing room. Now.”
Heath tugged her back into the library. “Don’t provoke him, sunshine.”
As soon as they stepped into the corridor, Norland’s grumbling seemed to echo off the stone walls, louder than it had in the secret room. “Young lady, you will head straight for the drawing room and stay there by your mother’s side until I come for you.”
At that moment, Lady Isabel poked her head out of a nearby parlor. “Father?” she asked as she stepped into the corridor. “What’s happened?”
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