Page 41 of 10 Things I Hate About the Earl

It spiraled upward, taking Kate’s senses with it until, with a suddenness that took her breath away, she reached that ultimate peak once more. Those wonderful waves of pleasure were more intense somehow because Marcus was there inside her, like nothing she’d ever felt before. Kate’s eyes opened wide as she clutched at him and called, “Marcus!”

Her cry seemed to spur him on, for he sped up, thrusting faster and faster until he cried out her name, and erupted deep inside her. Sagging against her, Marcus panted as though his lungs would burst. When he could speak, he glanced at her and asked, “Are you all right?”

When she nodded—Kate was far too exhausted to speak—he rolled away from her, throwing his arm over his face as he continued to breathe deeply. After another moment, he pulled her to him, engulfing her in his arms.

Kissing her brow, he snuggled close to her and whispered, “I love you, Kate Locke. I cannot wait until we are married.”

The words reverberated through Kate, creating a warmth that stole all the way through her. It was one thing to suspect his feelings and quite another to hear them professed aloud.

She rolled over until she could look directly into his face. “Do you truly mean that, Marcus?”

“How can you doubt it, my love?” He stroked a strand of her sweaty hair off her forehead. “I would not have taken your innocence had I not loved you with my whole heart. Which is why I want you to be my wife more than anything on earth.”

“Is that a proposal, Lord Haversham?” Kate grinned at him.

“No. Well, not the true proposal. As I said, that must be made with a grand gesture.” He pulled her on top of him. “Although it will be made as soon as possible. So we can be married and spend all our afternoons just like this.”

“That sounds lovely, doesn’t it?” Kate sighed. “Entwined like this forever.”

“Although, I’m surprised you’re not more concerned that I will give you warts.”

“What?” Kate froze then pursed her lips. “You remembered what I said about you when I was fourteen?” It was rather endearing that he recalled the first insult she’d hurled at him.

“Yes, I did.” Marcus sat up, bringing her up with him. “But I was also reminded of it in your list of ten things you hate about me.”

Kate’s stomach roiled as though she might cast up her accounts. “How?” Nathan couldn’t have shown it to him as he’d never seen it himself. “How could you have seen that list?”

“I found it in a desk drawer one day when I was trying to write a note to my sister.”

“And you still decided to court me?” Mortified, Kate could scarcely look at him. How dare he look at her private writing?

“My love,” he turned her head toward him and ran his thumb down her cheek, “that list is one of the things that made me decide to court you. I took it as a challenge. If that was what you thought of me, then I must mend my ways where you were concerned.” Marcus pulled her close and placed a searing kiss on her lips. “That you are now here in my bed tells me I must’ve corrected some of my atrocious behaviors.”

“Wretch!” Kate grabbed a pillow and bopped him over the head with it. “You should’ve told me you’d read it.”

“What would’ve been the fun in that?” He grabbed the pillow and tossed it off the bed. “I’d much rather have it lead to more battles like this.” Before she could protest, he’d pulled her underneath him, the glint in his eyes telling her this battle would end in victory for them both. “Don’t you agree?”

His member demanded entrance again, and Kate willingly obliged him. She had to admit, this type of battle was much more satisfying than any of their others. “I do,” she said as he slid home. “As long as you assure me there will be no warts.”

Chapter 18

Kate paced from the cold fireplace to the bay window that overlooked the street in the front reception room. Carriages flashed to and fro in the bright sunlight on the busy street. She leaned forward, peering up and down, but Marcus’s polished curricle was nowhere in sight. A shiver coursed through her, and she backed away from the window. It wouldn’t do for him to see her looking for him. Instead, she padded over to the gilt-and-white chaise and slowly lowered herself onto it. She picked up her white kid gloves for the thousandth time, put them on then pulled them off. Waiting always made her fly to pieces, although she should’ve been used to waiting for him by now.

It had been two agonizing days since their glorious tryst at his townhouse. Two days in which she’d been able to do nothing but think about Marcus and long for his embrace once more. She wasn’t certain why she’d not heard from him yesterday, but this morning, she’d received a note asking her to drive in the park with him this afternoon, making her blush. They’d not made it to the park on Saturday, being very much otherwise occupied, but now she could only believe once there she would receive his longed-for proposal. Of course, he’d all but said the words on Saturday, but today would make it official. She was going to marry Lord Haversham.

Her hands shook, and she rubbed them up and down her arms. The trembling continued until she vibrated like a stringed instrument when plucked. Why should she be so nervous? Perhaps because every time she allowed herself to remember the consummate pleasure Marcus had given her, she couldn’t believe that utter happiness was just within her grasp. Certainly, he would propose today. And she would accept him, and they would be so very happy together.

How she could believe such a thing baffled her, given their colorful history, yet in her heart she knew it to be true. Marcus filled her waking hours until she couldn’t bear waiting to see him. As now.

A rap on the door sent her heartbeat pounding. She must remain calm. It wouldn’t be seemly for him to know how much he affected her every time they met nor how she longed to see him each day. Except he probably did. After Saturday, he likely knew everything there was to know about her.

Kate straightened the skirts of her blue muslin gown, the one she’d worn to the park the day of their impromptu battle. The same color she’d been wearing the night she’d noticed him with anything but annoyance for the first time. Cornflower blue always became her. She hoped he thought so as well.

“Lord Haversham,” Parker announced him, even as the tall, dark lord strode toward her.

“Miss Locke. How do you do?” He bowed then grasped her hand and kissed it, sending a white-hot streak of fire up her arm.

At his touch, all the memories of them together in his bed assailed her, so that she quite suddenly couldn’t breathe. After a moment, she managed, “Well, my lord. I am well.” She cleared her throat. “I trust you are also?” She must get hold of herself and stop this infernal trembling. Like a leaf fluttering on the breeze.