The Magic of His Touch (May Day Mischief) (8 page)

“Lucasta doesn’t know her own mind, much less mine. I didn’t
want to marry when we began our false engagement. I didn’t believe the woman
existed with whom I would want to spend my life—and then you came along, with
your courage and determination, your long legs and sweet breasts and kissable
lips, and changed everything. Why do you think Lucasta and I agreed to end it
whenever one of us wished to? Because either or both of us could have fallen in
love and decided to marry.”

“Not Lucasta,” Peony said irrelevantly. The fires of pleasure
spread, licking along her limbs, making her toes curl and her fingertips yearn
to explore every inch of that bare chest and more.

His kissed her hair. “I did fall in love, and whether or not it
was caused by your magic spell doesn’t matter to me. I love you and I want to
marry you, and that’s that.” His lips wandered to her temple, nuzzling and
kissing. The heat of his hands penetrated the thin fabric of her nightdress,
stoking the flames. His fingers caressed her back and strolled to her hips,
paused and then settled on her bum.

She tried to wriggle away; this, she knew full well, was the
moment of truth. She couldn’t give in to him now and refuse to marry him. He
held her firmly against him, separating her buttocks slightly. Desire shivered,
swelled, rampaged through her. The long, hard promise of his member told her he
wanted this as much as she.

Did she believe, or didn’t she? She thought of all the touches
of magic in her life thus far. She’d chosen to believe in them, but... “You
wouldn’t have bedded me if you’d known I was a virgin.”

“Yes, I would have—but after we’d tied the knot.”

That made sense, but how could she know for sure?

“You’ll just have to believe me, Peony.”

No, that wasn’t it, or it wasn’t all. And it wasn’t only her
belief in magic that was at risk. Magic might work as expected, or it might not.
One never knew.

More than anything, she had to believe in herself. Believe that
she was lovable and beautiful. Believe that she was not hopelessly flawed, but
worthy of this man.

He gathered her nightdress in his hands and pulled it over her
head. He made short work of his pantaloons. “Is the bed haunted?”

“Not that I know of.” Oh, how wonderful he was, from top to
toe, and how fearless and sure. If she were to be such a man’s wife, she must be
fearless and sure, as well.

“Good, because rolling in the dew is all very well, but it’s
only a prelude to this.” Alexis took her by the hand and pulled her down with
him onto the bed. “See how perfectly we fit together?”

They did, legs to legs, chest to chest, mouth to hungry mouth.
Peony was only an inch shorter than him, and it worked. She wasn’t too tall, and
there was nothing awkward in the way she knew how to kiss him, no shyness in how
she reached to stroke him.

She wrapped her legs around him and invited him in where he
belonged.

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ISBN: 978-14603-1096-0

The Magic of His Touch

Copyright © 2013 by Barbara Monajem

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