“Miss White apparently attracts admirers like bees to honey. Lugo has been following a trail of broken hearts,” Kent said dryly. “He thinks he’ll have her soon.”
“Please convey my gratitude for his persistence,” Alaric said.
“And please tell Mr. Lugo that he is invited to our...”
Emma broke off, her gaze drawn to the gentleman who’d just entered the room. The fellow bore an incongruous mix of characteristics. Tall and broad-shouldered, he had the fit build of a man who enjoyed physical activities. At the same time, his wire spectacles and rumpled hair and clothes gave him the absent-minded air of a scholar.
Frowning, Alaric said, “Who is that?”
“Emma,” the stranger said simultaneously.
In disbelief, Alaric watched his fiancéeruntoward the newcomer, flinging her arms around him. Her embrace was returned with equal enthusiasm. The pressure in Alaric’s veins shot up dangerously.
“Harry!” Violet bounded up to the pair. “You made it! I wasn’t sure when my letter would reach you.”
Harry Kent—Emma’sbrother. Alaric’s fists loosened at his sides. As the Kents gathered around their newly arrived sibling, he saw that the family resemblance was unmistakable.
“I left Paris for London as soon as I received it,” Harry Kent said. “When I got home, Pitt gave me this address, said you were all here.” Frowning, he studied his eldest sister. “Are you alright, Em? Vi wrote that you’d been abducted—”
“I’m perfectly fine. I’m sorry your studies got interrupted, but Iamglad to see you. There’s someone I want you to meet.” Taking her brother by the arm, Emma tugged him over to Alaric. Beaming with pride, she said, “This is my brother Harry. Harry, this is the Duke of Strathaven, my fiancé.”
Harry blinked owlishly at his sister. “You’re getting married?”
Alaric bowed. “Your sister has bestowed a great honor upon me.”
Hastily, Harry returned his courtesy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir—I mean, your grace.” The look he shot Emma clearly said,You’ll have to fill me in.
“Welcome home, lad,” Kent said. His eyes shone with pleasure as he shook his brother’s hand. “You’ve sprouted even more since we saw you last.”
“You’re just in time, too,” Mrs. Kent said, smiling as Harry kissed her cheek. “There’s much to be done for the wedding—starting with fittings at the tailor. You and Ambrose must make a trip to Old Bond Street on the morrow.”
The Kent brothers looked at each other… and groaned.
***
Emma’s heart could not be fuller. The evening was going swimmingly, and Harry’s appearance had been the icing atop the cake. Surrounded by family and friends, she brimmed with joy. Her engagement party was everything she could have wanted.
Yet as Thea began a haunting rendition of Master Beethoven’sMoonlight Sonata, Emma became aware of a stirring restlessness. She realized that she hadn’t seen Alaric for at least a quarter hour; scanning the room, she saw no trace of him. Following impulse, she slipped out to find him.
The door to his study was open, and she saw him standing by the windows, looking out into the dark garden. Phobos and Deimos were at his feet, the deerhounds’ feathery ears perking with interest at her arrival. She entered, closing the door behind her.
His jade gaze locked on her, and she was struck anew by his masculine beauty... and by wonder. At times, it felt like a dream that this wickedly attractive duke wanted her. She could scarcely wait for their wedding day—and night—to arrive.
“I wondered where you’d gone,” she said.
“I just wanted a moment to myself.” His smile was rueful. “I’m not used to being around so much… family.”
“I understand,” she assured him. “Shall I go…?”
“No, pet. Your presence is welcome.” He held a hand out to her, and when she went over, he pulled her into his embrace. Pleasure hummed through her as he nuzzled her earlobe. “I miss you, Emma.”
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I miss you, too.”
His answer was a scorching kiss, one that instantly kindled her desire to an overwhelming flame. She tangled her tongue eagerly with his, pressing into his lean, hard length, wanting to be even closer. His hands cupped her bottom, molding her to him, lifting her against the virile bulge that she could feel through the layers of her skirts. She rubbed herself against him with unabashed hunger, her core fluttering with emptiness, a wanton need that only he could fill.
“Christ, I want you so badly,” he said in ragged tones. “I don’t know how I’m going to wait eight more weeks to make you mine.”
The realization burst inside her. In truth, the seed had been germinating ever since she’d been kidnapped by Mercer. Life was too short, too precious and tenuous, to waste.
