Gwyndar, Wales, October 1813
A half smile playing on his lips, Lucian watched his countess cavort in the sun-warmed tidal pool. They had arrived in Wales two weeks ago at the castle that had been his wedding gift to her.
Gwyndar was a place of strange enchantment, with its crystalline caves and secret coves and cascading waterfalls, but until now Lucian had never appreciated the beauty. By some quirk of nature and ocean currents, the climate of this northern stretch of Welsh coast was as temperate as southern England; newborn lambs and rare butterflies thrived here. And despite the lateness of the year, this was a particularly glorious afternoon, drenched with sunshine, caressed by the mildest of sea breezes.
He and Brynn had discovered the sandy cove during their first exploration of the castle environs. Although the tidal pool was heated by the sun’s rays, it still wasn’t warm enough for Lucian to brave the water, yet Brynn seemed to relish the chill. She was part sea siren, he was convinced.
She was his heart. She had insinuated herself so deeply into his soul that he could no longer fathom living without her.
The past weeks had been a new beginning for them, just as he’d hoped. Since nearly losing each other, their time together seemed infinitely more precious. They had spent the magical hours here becoming true lovers, exploring each other’s thoughts, sharing secrets and hot sultry kisses, making love wherever and whenever they could, falling deeper in love…
Lucian marveled at the depth of his feelings for Brynn. He had never expected to be overwhelmed by the power of love, so shaken by passion. He had never imagined finding anyone who set his heart afire, a temptress who met his passion with her own and left him gasping. A soul mate who completed him.
“You should join me, Lucian,” Brynn called teasingly, interrupting his thoughts.
His mouth curled. He had stripped down to his breeches, but that was far enough for his taste. “I’m not mad enough to swim in that icy water. Your gooseflesh must be the size of mountains.”
“You will have to warm me, then.”
Across the stretch of sand, he met the brilliant sparkle of her emerald eyes and felt lust and love surge through him. “Come here, siren, and I will.”
She emerged from the water, her flaming hair cascading wildly around her naked breasts, seawater foaming around her calves. Lucian’s breath faltered at the beguiling sight.
His gaze sweeping every tempting curve of her body, he rose and went to her. His very hands burned with the need to touch her.
His arms slipped about her waist, catching her close, crushing her soft breasts against his bare chest. “This reminds me of the first time I saw you. I thought you were a fantasy…” His voice grew husky as he stared down into her eyes that were translucent pools of green. “You still are. I dream of you like this now… fiery, vibrant, sensual… mine.”
Her soft smile held an erotic allure. “I am no fantasy, Lucian,” she responded, reaching up to slip her arms around his neck. “I am flesh and blood-and just at this moment I am about to turn into an icicle. Didn’t you promise to warm me? You are gravely neglecting your obligations.”
He flashed her a wicked grin. “Consider me duly chastened, my love.”
Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the stretch of sand that held their blankets and laid her down, then tenderly dried her sun-kissed skin. When he sat back on his heels to look at her, Brynn shivered. The heat of his gaze set her blood on fire, leaving her breasts tingling for want of his caress, her secret hollows throbbing.
He bent to kiss her lightly, his tongue playing upon her lips, warming her as his hands drifted over her body. His palms felt like flames against her chilled skin, his fingers shaping the sensitive mounds of her breasts, her peaked nipples…
She drew a slow breath as his searing lips joined his hands, sliding down her throat to her bosom, sending tremors of delight rippling through her. Her limbs felt suddenly languid, weak with longing. The sand was warm at her back as his mouth poised over one taut, swollen bud. Her fingers clenched in the blanket when finally he dipped to tease it with his tongue.
He didn’t stop there. With exquisite sensitivity, his flaming tongue swirled over her breasts in a deliberate attack on her senses. Brynn twisted her head restlessly, fighting back a moan.
Lucian gave a murmur of satisfaction deep in his own throat. “Your nipples taste salty. I wonder what the rest of you tastes like.”
Dazed by the erotic warmth in his voice, she made no protest when hands moved slowly down her bare flanks to her ankles, then back up again along her shivering inner thighs, where he paused. He was watching her, contemplating her with a wicked half smile, his persistent gaze branding her like a blaze.
Her skin felt suddenly hot and flushed, along with her nerves, when she realized his intent. Parting her thighs, Lucian lowered his head to kiss the petals of her woman’s flesh.
“You are scandalous,” she accused, although breathlessly anticipating his caresses.
“And whose fault is that? You would tempt the devil, siren.”
Quite deliberately, he draped her legs over his shoulders and bent to pleasure her. Wet white heat scalded her as he suckled the bud of her desire. His long, clever tongue lapped at her, delving, tasting, ravishing her, ruthlessly driving her to the edge until she was panting and flushed with blazing heat.
She clutched his thick, dark hair, craving release. Yet he didn’t allow her fulfillment. Instead he left her writhing on the brink of climax, shuddering with agonized need.
“Lucian…” she warned and pleaded at the same time.
He drew back, the wicked satisfaction in his eyes replaced by a deeper smoldering light. “I would be happy to oblige, my lady.”
He shed his breeches quickly and with a lithe, athletic motion joined her on the blanket, lowering himself to cover her body with his, easing between her spread thighs.
Brynn arched against him hungrily. She loved the feel of him against her, the smooth, hard planes and ridges, the heat, the way his magnificent arousal pulsed and throbbed. The rigid rod felt huge and hot as she fully absorbed its swollen length. She gave a whimper of bliss as he thrust home, shuddering at the incredible sensation of being filled with him.
“I love feeling you so deep inside me,” she murmured, her voice suddenly hoarse. “I love you, Lucian…”
His gaze locked with hers. “And I love you, Brynn,” he said, low and hushed. “You are my life.”
“As you are mine,” she echoed, a promise.
That was all the encouragement necessary to shatter his pretense of sanguinity. His gentleness fraying, he surged inside her, impaling her with his thick, pulsing shaft. Yet Brynn welcomed his fever joyfully. Her legs locking around his hips, she clung to him, meeting him stroke for stroke, measure for measure. In only a moment their joining turned frenzied, the rhythm building to sudden wildness.
Brynn held on tightly as bliss burst upon them in an explosion of convulsive pleasure, her cries mingling with his harsh groans. Lucian poured himself into her welcoming body before finally collapsing upon her, shaking with the force of their fierce mating.
They lay locked together, the delicious sweetness slowly ebbing with the frenzied echo of their heartbeats. When the turbulence stilled, Lucian eased his weight to his side and drew the blankets over their still-entwined limbs.
Limp and sated, Brynn nuzzled her cheek in the curve of his shoulder, her fingers splaying over his smooth-muscled chest.
“Warm enough now?” he asked, stroking her hair weakly.
“Yes.” Brynn’s breath escaped in a soft sigh. Lucian made her feel so cherished. She knew it was not the Gypsy’s curse driving his attraction, either. She could see the love in his eyes each time he looked at her, could feel it in every beat of his heart.
She felt his hand move to her lower abdomen to gently caress the place where their child lay quietly growing inside her, and she smiled. Her cup of happiness could not be much fuller. She would bear her husband a child. Grayson was safe in Scotland, and they had received word that his injury was healing. Theo was being covertly protected by two full-time bodyguards, while he and her other brothers were willingly keeping up the pretense of Gray’s disappearance…
The thought of that still-unresolved issue drew Brynn’s brows into a troubled frown. She never wanted this bliss to end, yet she knew that she and Lucian would have to return to London soon. Raven’s wedding was to be held shortly, for one thing. And Caliban was still at large, no doubt planning how to wreak further evil.
Brynn suspected Lucian would soon become restless to fulfill his duty; with her newly attuned instincts, she sensed that his failure to apprehend the traitor was already gnawing at his conscience. Yet she was reluctant for Lucian to face the threat again.
“I almost wish we didn’t have to return to London,” she murmured quietly. “I don’t like to think of the danger to you, or how Caliban wants you dead.”
He seemed to hesitate. “I intend to take precautions-for both of us. You may not care for it, love, but I plan to have you guarded day and night. I’m not about to lose something so precious tome.”
“I couldn’t bear to lose you, either, Lucian.”
Easing away from her, he lay on his side. Surprisingly there was a hint of laughter in his sapphire eyes. “I am the one who should be wary of returning. Doubtless I’ll have to fight to keep your beaux away from you, but I’m damned if I want to share you.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the jealous edge in his voice. “If the curse has ended, then I should no longer have to suffer their unwanted attentions.”
Lucian’s mouth curved wryly. “I don’t imagine you will ever be free from male attention, love. Certainly not mine. I expect to fawn over you till the day I die.”
Brynn’s smile faded as she remembered how close he had come to dying. “I beg you, don’t say that.”
His own expression remained light. “Never fear. I plan to live a very, very long time and beget countless sons and daughters on you.”
Her eyebrow rose. “Countless? And do I have any say in the matter, my arrogant lord?”
“I might consider allowing you an opinion if you’re extremely well-behaved and properly subservient for the next forty or fifty years.”
With a soft laugh, Brynn wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck. “I believe you have the wrong bride if you want subservience.”
Suddenly sober, Lucian shook his head, gazing deeply into her eyes. “No, love, I have the perfect bride. You’re my destiny, Brynn. I think I knew it the first moment we met. We were fated to be together. You’re my fate, and I am yours.”
Her own gaze softened, as did her heart. “I can think of no more wonderful fortune.”
His fingers rose to touch her lips. “For so long I thought there was something missing in myself. I know what it was now. You. I just hadn’t met you yet. You fill the hunger in my soul.”
Tears filling her eyes, she searched his beautiful features, his face so beloved it hurt her to look at him. “I love you so much, Lucian,” she answered, feeling the same magical completion that he did.
Lying back, he drew her close and pressed her head down on his shoulder. With a contented sigh Brynn shut her eyes, feeling her limbs grow warm and languid. She slept.
The sand was warm beneath her feet as she watched her family frolic in the surf, her heart so full she thought it might burst. They were playing a game of tag, a young boy with dark hair and blue eyes like Lucian’s, two beautiful little girls, both with vivid red hair like her own. As if of one mind, the children suddenly turned on their father and gleefully pelted him with seawater. With a ferocious mock growl, Lucian went on the attack, catching a daughter under each arm and making them squeal with laughter as he stalked after his son…
Brynn came awake abruptly, an incredible sense of serenity filling her. She lifted her head to stare down at Lucian, wondering if he had shared the same dream.
He stirred awake more slowly, but when he opened his eyes, she could see comprehension and joy in the blue depths.
His gaze locked with hers for an intense moment.
“A son,” she murmured.
“And two daughters,” he added, his voice rough with awe.
“Do you think that dream really was our future?”
Slowly Lucian smiled. “God, I hope so. I intend to do my damnedest to make it come true.”
When she smiled in return, Lucian’s gaze dropped to her mouth, his blue eyes darkening with sensual fire. “I can’t promise to know the future, Brynn,” he whispered, his mouth moving closer. “I can only promise to cherish you for all eternity.”
“That is more than enough, my love.” Her heart overflowing, Brynn lifted her face to his and gave herself up to his passionate kiss.