Forever My Love (Berkeley-Faulkner #2)(105)

“Say ‘husband,’ he said, easing her bodice down until her br**sts were exposed and her arms were trapped. Uneasily Mira looked around at the still forest, feeling as if hundreds of eyes were watching them.

“Husband,” she whispered, her heart hammering madly as his ebony head bent over her br**sts, his mouth seeking and finding the most delicate nerves, teasing them into tingling arousal.

“Now tell me how you feel about me.”

“I love you…” Her neck arched back as pleasure threaded through her in ever-thickening skeins. Somehow she managed to yank her arms out of the confin-ing sleeves, and she twined them around his shoulders. “I love you so much… and I want you… Alec…”

Pulling one of her legs up, he cupped his hands over her bu**ocks and raised her h*ps to straddle his. She felt him through their clothes, the large, powerful shape of him straining up against her, and her fingers curled against his back as desire shot through her.

“Now tell me,” he said hoarsely, urging his loins against the beckoning softness of her in a slow, deceptively patient movement, “that you’ll let me have you anywhere I please.”

She quivered, holding on to him more tightly.

“Anywhere.”

Despite his overpowering hunger, Alec grinned, reaching down to help her unfasten his breeches. “Oh, how I’m going to enjoy being married to you, Miss Germain.”

Chapter Thirteen

Alec accompanied Mira back to Berkeley Hall and informed Rand and Rosalie of the engagement with a matter-of-factness that amused Mira. Now that the agreement had been made and Mira’s objections had been quenched, Alec’s attitude toward the marriage seemed to be one of relief.

“He behaves,” Mira grumbled to Rosalie later, “as if a minor but annoying problem has been solved! I would have thought that his feelings for me would have been a little more transparent.”

“Perhaps Lord Falkner is a man who only wants the unattainable and loses interest after the conquest. Are you certain that you have no doubts about him as a husband?”

“Not as many as others seem to have,” Mira rejoined defensively. Instantly Rosalie’s expression became contrite.

“Mireille… please, let’s not argue about him. Just try to understand that it’s difficult for me to think of someone in a certain way for so long, and then to have to change my opinion so quickly—”

“I do understand. But you’ll see how wrong you’ve been about him.”

“If you feel so strongly about him, I know that he must be worthy of it.”

Mira nodded, giving Rosalie a smile and turning to look through the window at the brilliant blue sky. I must continue to trust him, she thought, chewing gentlyon the inside of her lower lip. There was no predicting what kind of husband Alec would be, or what kind of marriage they would have. Perhaps Rosalie was right, but what shield did Mira have against such doubts? Only her faith in him.

After Mira had related the story of the mysteriously arranged meeting in the forest, Rosalie swore repeatedly that she had had nothing to do with the forged notes. Knowing what an unskilled liar her friend was, Mira was rather inclined to believe her. Juliana must have been the one to send the notes, though Alec had assured Mira that she would never admit to it. In view of the end result, however, it was not important to know who had contrived the meeting, and soon Mira’s attention was diverted to other, more disturbing matters.

The morning after Aiec proposed, he arrived at the doors of Berkeley Hall looking every bit like the kind of properly respectful fiance that everyone knew he was not. He asked for the opportunity to speak with Mira in private, a request which Rosalie allowed very reluctantly. Rosalie had decided beforehand that until the wedding she was going to be a zealous chaperon— after all, the activities of engaged couples were scrutinized far more than were those of couples who were merely courting. After Rosalie led the caller to the salon where Mira waited, the betrothed couple exchanged polite nods.

“Lord Falkner,” Mira said demurely.

“Miss Germain.”

“I know that all this exaggerated restraint is for my benefit,” Rosalie said, lifting her eyes as if in appeal to heaven. “However, I know exactly what goes on between engaged couples, and that is why I’m allowing you only fifteen minutes alone. After that, I will insist upon rejoining you.” Throwing Alec a timid and suspicious glance, she left the room and closed the door. Immediately Alec’s control vanished, and he leveled a hungry stare at Mira. ;”A quarter of an hour,” he said, leaning his back against the closed door and folding his arms across his chest.

“She knows that there’s not much we can do in fifteen minutes,” Mira explained, a soft smile drawing across her mouth as she remained seated on an embroidered chair and stared back at him.

“She doesn’t know how fast I can be.”

Insolently she looked up and down the rangy elegance of his body. “Yes, but I do.”

Alec laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with the promise of retaliation. “Saucy wench. Come here. We’ve already wasted fifty seconds and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

“Do you intend to kiss me or turn me over your knee?” she questioned, making no move to rise.

“One or the other. Perhaps both. Come here and find out.”

Slowly Mira smiled and walked over to him, stopping in front of him and slipping her arms around his neck. His hands settled at her waist to steady her as she stood on her toes slightly, leaning into him. “Is this close enough?” she whispered.