Caversham's Bride (The Caversham Chronicles - Book One) by Sandy Raven Page A

proposed solution.”
    “Anything within my power is yours.”
    He raised her hand, lifting her to stand before him. He gazed into her deep green eyes, and felt a hot tremor course up his arm to his chest. “I need an heir. A legitimately born son. As soon as possible.”
    Wide-eyed, she stared at him, obviously shocked by his words. “For that you would need a wife.”
    “To save your brother and your nurse, you need me and my ships.”
    “Your Grace, surely a man as handsome as yourself, assuming you have a little coin, can find a lady to marry in your own country.”
    “I don’t want someone from my own country.” He held her chin in his hand as he stared into her face. “I want you.”
    “But we don’t know each other,” she said, then closed her eyes. “I’m Catholic and will not convert.”
    “You might have to in order for our son to inherit my title.”
    “Why? Why me?”
    “I desire you.” She tried to turn away, but he prevented her with the merest increase in pressure. His thumb stroked her lower lip, then two fingers stroked her cheek. “And I think...,” He moved in closer and lowered his lips to within a hairs breadth of hers, and whispered, “you do not...,” He pressed them to hers momentarily to gauge her reaction. She sighed in his arms, and he added, “dislike me.”
    Acting on that intense desire to truly kiss her, Ren claimed her mouth finally, and after an awkward moment, she parted for him. She tasted of the wine she’d just drunk, dusky sweet and extremely rare. His tongue traveled the sharply uneven planes of her teeth, and dueled with hers.
    He held her to him, his hands roaming her back from the arc of her shoulders to the curve of her well-formed bottom. She wore nothing under the pantalettes, and that knowledge stirred him even more. His hands roved forward, around to her waist and upward, covering her breasts. Full and firm, her nipples were hardened with desire, and he flicked his thumbs over each peak. When she pressed into him and wrapped her arms around his waist, his cock throbbed uncomfortably behind the placard of his breeches. He hadn’t frightened her with his ardency, which was something he worried about because it had been so long for him. But she still had not agreed to his proposal, and he wanted to know. Had to know.
    “Do you agree to my terms?” He whispered near her ear as he began to kiss a trail down the long column of her neck. She nodded, but that wasn’t good enough. For some reason he needed to hear it from her lips. “Say it, Lia. Tell me you agree.” She moaned as his lips reached the sensitive area where her neck met her shoulders.
    “Why?”
    “I want to hear you say it.”
    She sighed as his thumbs raked over her hardened nipples.
    “Yes.”
    “Yes to what?”
    “I will marry you.” Her words came out on a whisper, as her knees buckled under her. She marveled at the sensations as her entire body awakened under his touch. Where did those words come from? Lia couldn’t believe she’d just agreed to marry the man. He’d used her own body against her, to get the response he’d wanted. Even now, his hands moved on her body bringing her to life, as if until this moment she had merely existed. His firm lips worked magic on hers, and she arched into him giving him more, offering her body to him.
    Starved for breath, she tried to pull away, but one hand curved about her neck, bringing her even closer. She didn’t think she could get any nearer to him than she already was. His fingers raked through the hair of her nape, and traveled upward, pulling the comb free. Then his nimble fingers unclasped the choker, and dropped it onto the dressing table. Turning away from her, he took her hand and led them to one of the two intricately-carved wooden wing chairs in the center of the room.
    He lowered himself into it, and said, “Disrobe for me, Lia.”
    She stood between his spread knees, her thighs touching his, and stared at him, trying to