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“It’s complicated. They thought he had financial information they could use,” he said. “I think they were trying to trace back some shipments we stole from them and hid a while ago. Your father deserves some credit. He’s a little banged up, but he didn’t crack for them.”
“Is he okay?” A jolt of fear ran through me.
“A few scratches, but the doctor said otherwise he looked great. Lucien and I got to them before they could inflict any real damage on him.”
I ran my fingers up and down his forearms, tracing the scars that decorated his skin. It was so perfect, being here with him, that I felt full to the brim with a warm glow. He hadn’t braved walking into what was definitely a dangerous hostage situation to save my family. No made man of his standing would have done that for a soldier. No, he had done this for me.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
I looked up at him, tears gathering in the corners of my eyes and threatening to spill down my face. He brushed my hair back and his palm was hard and comforting on my cheek. God, I could spend the rest of my life looking up into those eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.
“Can we talk about what you said before you left?”
His face remained impassive as he studied me for a moment. Then he took my hand and led me down to the edge of the lake. I watched his profile, dark against the water, the wind blowing his hair back gently. My heart thumped in my chest as we stood in silence.
“I’ve treated you unfairly, Iris,” he said finally. “You scared the shit out of me and I’m used to just pulling back as soon as I start to feel something. But I haven’t been able to pull back from you from the moment I saw you.”
“In the bar,” I whispered.
“No, the first time I saw you was through your window,” he said, smiling. “When you thought no one was around and decided to strip off to get dressed for dinner. That was when I realized you were different for me. I don’t think anyone has ever gotten me that hard from that far away.”
I opened my mouth to protest and then realized he was teasing me. God, he was frustrating. He reached out and touched my chest between my collarbones, running his fingers down the center of my stomach.
“I don’t know when I fell in love with you, but it was fucking early,” he said. “When I came back, Lucien could tell I was done for. He knocked some sense in me.”
I frowned. “What?”
“He told me that if I really loved you, I was an idiot to walk away. He said that if I loved you, that was the thing that made me different from our father. That it would give me the chance to have a real marriage and not what my parents had.”
My stomach fluttered and I clenched my fists hard enough for my nails to bite into my skin. “You won’t be like your father,” I said. “I love you and I won’t let that happen.”
It was the first time I’d uttered those words to him and he jerked his head up, eyes glittering and mouth parted. There was a gentle rushing sound from behind him and I looked up to see a sheet of rain moving over the water toward us. Duran turned and saw it too and seized my hand, pulling me back through the hedges and into the yard just as the rain hit with vengeance.
We ran through the grass, soaked to the skin, and ducked into the gazebo at the far end of the yard. My body was wet and cold, but Duran’s heat cut through my wet clothes as he pressed himself against me and kissed my mouth.
“Marry me,” he demanded.
I pulled back, sputtering. “What?”
“I have a ring in the house,” he said. “I got it earlier today and I intend to put it on you because I’ll be damned if I let some other bastard get his hands on you. So say that you’ll marry me, Iris.”
I choked, blinking back tears, and pulled him in for another kiss. When I drew back, he was gazing at me, his body tensed in anticipation, water running down his face from his soaked hair.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I would like to marry you.”
A flash of triumph moved across his face and he lifted me in his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. I hung onto him as he backed up against the gazebo railing. His fingers moved frantically over me, tearing my dressing gown from my arms and letting it fall in a forgotten heap on the ground.
His hands slid up my body, covered only in my wet nightgown, and hooked beneath the straps. They slid down, exposing my breasts to the chilly air. His breath caught as his eyes fell and he ducked his head, flicking his hot tongue over my hard nipples. God, that sensation would never get old.
I reached down and peeled his wet t-shirt from the hard ridges of his belly and chest. He leaned back so I could pull it over his head and let me brush back his tousled hair. Then he dropped to his knees in front of me, his attention fixed on my core. Before I knew what was happening, he pushed my nightgown up my thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as they slid upward. Then his face was between my legs, light glinting from his hair as his dark head moved.
His tongue was heaven on my cold skin, bringing warmth throughout my body. The garden was empty, but the gazebo was clearly visible from the mansion and I hoped no one else had returned while we were out. I should have been embarrassed by my exposure, but the mental image of what we must look like only served to arouse me more. God, what had he made me into?
I dug my fingers into the railing, lifting my thigh a little to provide better access. His tongue slid over my sex and flicked across my clit, waves of pleasure following every move he made. Wetness gathered between my thighs and trickled down my leg before he ran his tongue up, chasing it to the entrance of my sex.
He pulled back long enough to put his middle finger in his mouth and then slid it all the way into my sex. God, that was heaven. I dug my fingers into the railing, cold metal cutting into my palms. My hips began moving of their own accord, thrusting gently onto his fingers.
