Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

"I don't know," Will replied, slipping into an empty chair. "I've often heard that some men get nervous right before their freedom is sucked away."

"I'm fine," Simon barked.

Will chuckled. "Yes, fine indeed." He downed the whisky in his own glass and placed it on the edge of Simon's desk. "In all honesty, it was probably time for you to settle down anyway."

The last person who should tell him to settle down was Will. His brother had cut a larger swath through London than Simon had. "Well, then I suppose you'll be next, William."

His brother scoffed at the same time there was a scratch at the door.

"Come," Will called, apparently not wanting to discuss his turn to find a bride.

Billings peeked inside. "Your Grace, the vicar Mr. Bostic has arrived. I put him in the blue parlor."

"Excellent." Simon rose from his seat. "Is he alone, Billings?"

The butler cracked a smile. "The vicar left his wife at home, Your Grace. If that is what you are asking."

"Thank God!" Simon started for the door with Will quick on his tail. "Please inform Miss Rutledge and the duchess that we are all waiting for them, Billings."

"Yes, of course."

Simon and Will started down the corridor toward the blue parlor. When they stepped over the threshold, Simon was surprised to see that Mr. Bostic was not alone. Prisca Hawthorne also sat on the settee, talking to the vicar.

Will sucked in a breath beside him. "I thought Billings said he was alone," he grumbled, only loud enough for Simon to hear.

"No. He said the man didn't bring his wife," Simon whispered back. Then he stepped toward the vicar. "Ah, Mr. Bostic, thank you so much for coming."

"Miss Hawthorne, what a surprise," Will said, bowing over Prisca's hand.

"Indeed. I felt certain you had turned tail and left forever, William."

"Wishful thinking," Will answered.

At that moment, Lily and the duchess entered the parlor. Simon could sense Lily even though his back was to the door. He inhaled deeply, her sweet scent tantalizing his nose. If he thought about it, he would be able to taste her on his lips. He finally turned to look at her. Simon gaped at his bride. She was resplendent in her green gown, the gold sash lifting the tempting swells of her breasts for Simon's eye to feast upon. The necklace he had given her rested right above her cleavage. His mouth went dry.

Will cleared his throat and clapped a hand to Simon's back. "Time enough for that later,

mon frère

."

Simon crossed the room, took Lily's hand in his, and pressed a kiss to her gloved knuckles. Very soon, he'd strip the gloves from her hands and have her bare skin touch his. Very soon, he'd strip her of everything except for the necklace and finally sink into her. "You look beautiful, Lily."

A pretty blush stained her cheeks, and Simon couldn't keep the smile from his lips. He hooked her hand on his arm and led her to the other side of the parlor, where Mr. Bostic was waiting for them.

The vicar had them repeat their vows, though it was all a blur to Simon until he heard the words, "Your Grace, you may now kiss your bride."

Twenty-Five

Lily still had doubts, right up to the moment he kissed her. Standing in front of the vicar, Oliver, her new mother-in-law, and Will and Prisca, Simon pulled her hard against him and pressed his lips to hers. What could have been a simple seal of their marriage wasn't simple at all. It was much more.

It was very nearly carnal in its intensity. His arms wound around her waist, his fingers splayed wide to pull her to him as his lips descended to touch hers. He wasn't gentle. He wasn't soft. He wasn't proper. He was Simon. And she reveled in his desire for her.

Lily pushed up onto her tiptoes as her arms rose to clasp his neck, her fingers touching the hair at the nape of his neck. She gasped against his lips when his hands snaked down toward her bottom.

"Your Grace…" the vicar tried to interrupt and then coughed behind his hand. A very distant part of Lily's mind heard him but paid him no heed.

And Simon obviously didn't hear him at all. The vicar didn't steal Simon's attention from her for even a moment. He continued to plunder, to assault, to worship her mouth. And she kissed him back. She forgot all the other people in the room. She forgot where she was. The only thing that was important was that she was in Simon's arms.

But then Oliver finally got her attention. "Aunt Lily?" He was the one who broke through. She pushed Simon's chest until he finally stepped back. Simon reached for her again, but she evaded his grasp.

Simon's eyes sought hers, dark and brooding. His breath heaved from him in small gasps. She laid one hand over his heart and smiled.

"Patience," she whispered, unable to keep from smiling at his bewildered expression.

She left her hand on Simon's chest even after she turned toward Oliver. Simon covered her hand with his own and pressed it to his heart.

"Congratulations, Aunt Lily," Oliver said quietly. He tilted his head and smiled slowly at her. Despite his growth over the past few months and his surliness, he

still

was the little boy she'd raised.

Lily hugged him close with her free arm, as Simon refused to relinquish the other. She was about to let Oliver go but stopped when he whispered, "Be careful, Aunt Lily."

Lily looked over at Simon, who'd obviously heard the comment, if the scowl on his face was any indication.

"Oliver," he warned, his eyebrows scrunching together in frustration.

Oliver turned and walked away.

Lily cast a questioning glance at Simon. "What was that about?"

***

Simon slid closer and wrapped his arm around her waist. The boy was a menace. He would have to talk to him. Again. He was obviously scared Simon would devour Lily whole when he took her to bed. He had to admit he'd planned to do a little of that, but not the way Oliver was afraid of.

"Just boy stuff," Simon said as he looked down at her. "I'll talk to him. Tomorrow."

"All right." Lily snuggled deeper into his side. He loved the way she fit him, her curves matching up with his body. Her height was a blessing. Her slender form his curse. All he wanted to do was strip her right there. But he imagined that he would offend his guests if he ripped her clothes from her body, pushed her against the wall, and surged into her. He grew hard at the thought.

Simon pulled Lily to stand in front of him, his arms sliding around her waist. "How long until we can retire?" he whispered to her.

She shrugged and smiled at him over her shoulder. "I think I heard your mother say she had a day full of events planned for everyone." Her eyes twinkled with mirth.

"Even my mother isn't tenacious enough to keep me from you now that you're mine." He brushed a loose curl from her shoulder and kissed it quickly. He couldn't wait to get her to his room so he could remove the pins from her hair and run his fingers through it.

"Yours?" she asked quietly.

"All mine," he said, his voice rough with emotion.

"Not yet, Simon," his mother broke in. "You will endure a celebratory breakfast before you cart her away."

Simon simply sighed when Lily followed his mother into the breakfast room. All he could do was follow like a faithful puppy chasing her skirts.

The sway of her hips had his total attention until Will clapped him on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Simon. I hope the two of you will be very happy together."

"If I can ever get her alone, I'm sure we will be," Simon growled. Will simply laughed. Simon was caught in a lustful hell, and Will could only tease him. Oliver glared at him from across the room.

"What's wrong with Maberley? Do you know?" Simon asked.

"He's still worried about Lily," Will said, coloring slightly.