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He grinned. “Your ringtone on my cell phone is the notes to the song ‘Unforgettable.’”
“Really?” she inquired with a tremulous smile. “Then I succeeded. I never wanted you to forget me. It was one of the reasons—”
She stopped and blushed.
“Yes?”
“It's one of the reasons I went to bed with you again,” she said in a rush. “I told myself that this time I’d leave you wanting more.”
“You were unforgettable the first time.”
“And yet you left.”
He nodded. “Much to my regret.”
“Because your brother died unexpectedly, and you needed to rush home.”
“I left not because our night together meant too little,” he said with a note of self-deprecation, “but because it meant too much.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were Lord James Carsdale?”
“Because I’d grown used to moving around as James Fielding. It was liberating not to have to shake off women who were overly impressed by a title and money. And frankly, it was freeing for me to avoid some of the trappings of my life as a duke’s younger son. Little did I know—”
“That one day you’d be the duke yourself?”
He nodded. “And that someone—someone I’ve come to care about very much—would be hurt by my charade.”
“Oh, Hawk, we’ve lost so much time. I wanted to hate you—”
“But instead, deep down inside, you waited for me, didn’t you, Pia?” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.
She nodded, caught by the sudden heat in his eyes.
“And I’ll thank heaven every day for that,” Hawk said as he lowered his head to hers again.
Pia opened her mouth under his, wanting more of him, wanting to feel their customary flare of desire.
“We can’t do this here,” she said eventually against his mouth between kisses. “We’ll scandalize everyone.”
“I hope so,” he whispered back wickedly.
For he was her wicked duke.
Epilogue
“You look divine. I can’t wait for the wedding night.”
Pia turned from the mirror, her heart flipping over as she spotted Hawk in the doorway to the changing room.
He was dressed in a cutaway morning coat that displayed his masculine physique to perfection. She couldn’t wait for the wedding night, either.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” she said, her words belying her feelings. “It’s bad luck to see the bride…”
She’d chosen a wedding dress with an all-over lace overlay and a chapel-length train. The dress had a dreamy, fairy-talelike quality, with a straight neckline and fitted sleeves.
It was a dress fit for a princess—or a duchess.
Hawk smiled lazily. “You might feel differently about my appearance when you realize what I’ve come to deliver.”
