Despite the wetness outside, the summerhouse was warm and snug. Candles flickered all around them like stars, seemingly working magic. Although, in all honesty, she wasn’t sure whether this cozy wonderland was Rand’s doing or her mother’s, the romantic ambience worked on her all the same.
Or maybe it was just Rand. Ever since he’d first touched her, she’d burned for more. For everything. For weeks she’d denied it, but now they were going to be wed.
Everything had happened so fast. Only yesterday she’d thought of Rand as Rose’s, but now, miraculously, he was hers. And she wanted him with a fierceness she’d never even imagined. A fierceness that completely took her by surprise.
Six weeks. It seemed like forever. She moved closer again and pressed her lips to his.
The humming stopped. “Oh, Lily,” Rand said, but his words sounded more like a groan. She worried for a moment that he was angry, but he didn’t seem angry. He didn’t push her away. Instead, he curved a hand around the nape of her neck and deepened the kiss.
The lips that had been soft and gentle earlier were urgent now, more fervent. He kissed her until she felt breathless, senseless, his mouth trailing down to play in the sensitive hollow of her throat.
His lips felt so good against her skin. His tongue drew warm circles on her flesh, moving lower, delving closer to the cleavage revealed by her low neckline. Her heart raced faster as new sensations rippled through her, not only where his mouth teased her, but other places, too. An ache was building inside her, a most strange and wondrous feeling.
Wishing to make him feel the same way, she reached to unknot his white cravat.
Rand lifted his head. “You cannot do that,” he murmured.
The lace-edged fabric came untied, and she began drawing it from his neck. “I want to do to you the same thing you’re doing to me. I want to make you feel—”
“You cannot.”
She stopped, stunned by the vehemence of his words, the steely gray of his eyes. “Why?” she breathed.
“Because if you do,” he said very slowly, “I fear I may not be able to keep from doing more.”
Was that all? She smiled as the cravat slid free.
“Lily—”
“Rand.” Her mouth feeling suddenly dry, she licked her lips. Her heart pounded so loudly she feared he could hear it above the rain and her own harsh breathing. Rising to her knees to face him, she caught his silvery gaze. “I want you to do more. I want you,” she clarified, echoing his words from weeks earlier.
Now she really knew what he’d meant.
His smile looked painfully forced. “You’re going to have me. We’re going to have each other. In six weeks.”
“I want you now.” As her fingers went to loosen the lacing at his neck, she watched his eyes widen in shock. She’d never felt like this before—like a wanton, truth be told. And she was every bit as shocked as he—shocked not only at her boldness, but at the desire that raged through her, sweeping clear her resistance and all her inhibitions. She’d never imagined feeling free enough to offer herself to a man.
But then, she’d never before been in love.
He just stared, dumbfounded, while she opened the placket of his shirt and put her mouth to his skin as he had to hers, tasting him, faintly salty and musky, a heady flavor that was his alone.
“Lily.” He raised her face and touched a finger to her chin, looking wistful. When Jasper hopped from the bench to the pallet, his bushy red tail flicking up and down, Rand swallowed hard, then sighed. “Even your menagerie disapproves.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“You’re truly bent on seducing me, aren’t you? No matter what your animals think.”
“They’re not thinking, Rand. They’re just watching.”
She felt a shudder run through him. “I don’t like it.”
Under other circumstances, she might have laughed. “The animals watching?”
“Yes.” He gave her a light kiss before his face set in determined lines. “Your parents wouldn’t like it, either.”
“The animals watching?” she repeated, nonplussed.
“Yes. I mean, no.” He looked deliciously flustered. “I mean they wouldn’t like this.” He yanked her against him and kissed her again, hard.
She let herself slide into the demanding caress. He plundered her mouth, tasting of strawberries and champagne and Rand. When at last he let her go, she found herself trembling with ill-contained desire.
“My parents kiss all the time,” she informed him shakily. “They would certainly like it. As a matter of fact, Mum told all us girls we should make sure to kiss a man before we marry him. To ascertain we’re well matched in that area. And she’s an accomplished matchmaker, so I’m sure she knows of what she speaks.”
Despite everything, Rand’s lips quirked in a half smile. “It isn’t the kissing they wouldn’t approve. It’s what it will lead to should you insist on going any further. Your parents certainly wouldn’t like that.”
He quite obviously didn’t know her parents.
“Violet was born seven months after they wed. And she wasn’t a particularly undersized baby.”
His forehead furrowed in confusion. “What?”
“They didn’t wait, Rand. And I don’t see why we should, either.” She watched his jaw drop open as she continued. “We’ll be married in six weeks…but I want you now.”
He shut his eyes momentarily. “If you say that enough times, I’ll begin to believe you.”
“How many times?” she wondered. “Will five or six more do? A dozen? I want you now, I want you now, I want—”
He silenced her with another kiss, a kiss so fierce she wondered if perhaps he’d given in. But when he drew back, he gazed at her, gauging her—and also gauging his own power to resist, she guessed.
Then slowly his fingers moved to unfasten her stomacher, and her heart soared. She’d won. She wanted this. She burned for him.
And besides all that, if they made love now, then later, on her wedding night, she wouldn’t have to worry about—
“Are you certain?” he asked,
