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His eyes sprang open and his head reared back. ‘Que? You are crazy, Luce.’
‘Yeah, well, one day I’ll tell you about my childhood. Or, better yet, I’ll sleep out one night and not bother telling you what I’m doing and who—’
‘Like hell you will.’
‘Need I say more?’
He growled. ‘I didn’t think of that. But I swear you’ll see a snowball in hell before I ever take a mistress.’ He brushed his lips over hers, back and forth. Teasing. Tormenting. ‘Only you.’
Then he began to rain lush, moist kisses down her throat in a golden trail.
‘I’ve been the only lover in your life, yes?’
Blood thrumming, she writhed against the satin sheets. ‘Y…Yes, you know that.’
Nudging at the lace covering her breast, he swirled his hot breath over her skin as he murmured, ‘And you are the only lover in mine. There has only been you and there will only ever be you.’
Blame it on the havoc being unleashed on her body, but it took her a second to catch on—and then she pushed at his shoulders to gauge his expression. ‘You mean you haven’t slept with anyone since me?’
Nonchalance made his shrug loose, as if he didn’t see the big deal. ‘No. It felt wrong. Like I was betraying my heart.’
‘But…but you’re a man.’
A laugh rumbled from the depths of his chest. ‘I am so glad you’ve noticed that, angel.’
‘And you’re…hot.’
His eyes smouldered along with his smile as he towered above her, dominating her world, as always.
‘I am hot for you right now,’ he growled, with such sexual gravitas she shivered. ‘Hot enough to show you exactly how much of a man I am.’
His sinful tongue licked across the seam of her lips in silent entreaty and she fisted his hair and surrendered, holding him to her as that black magic enthralled her.
It was the distant tinkle of glasses and music that pierced her lust fog.
‘Oh, Lord, Thane, our guests! You have to get dressed. We’re getting married on the beach in…’ Lifting her head, she peeked at the bedside clock. ‘Crikey—seven minutes.’
And she wouldn’t like to guess what she looked like. Their wide eyes met and they both burst out laughing like lovestruck teenagers.
‘Seriously, though, I was thinking this private ceremony could be for us. We’ll have a big splash at the cathedral, before your coronation. It will give my father time to come round too. We need peace between our houses, Thane. I want us to end this feud. You and I. Together.’
‘Whatever you want—whatever makes you happy. I can be nice to your father. For thirty seconds at least.’
‘Make it sixty-nine and I’ll pay you in kind.’
He growled like a virile feral wolf. ‘I’m having you back in this bed within two hours.’
‘Then move it.’
Tornado-style, they whirled around the room, yanking suit hangers and buttoning shirts and shoving feet into shoes. Before she knew it they were at the door.
‘You look indecently gorgeous, Prince Thane. I adore you in this black Armani. All dissolute and wicked. How do I look?’
He pointed his index finger north. ‘Your halo is wonky.’
Her smile exploded into laughter. ‘You mean my tiara?’
‘Si. Not that I care. To me you look perfect. A debauched angel.’
‘And I bet you like that, huh?’
‘Of course,’ he drawled.
She was beaming—she knew it. ‘Okay, Romeo, are you ready to marry your Juliet?’
‘I am ready to marry you, Luciana. To finally make you mine.’
She laced her hand through his and he gripped it with warm fingers and devout love and the promise of unaccountable tomorrows.
Then let’s do it. Let’s make our destiny our own.
