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Quinn’s Undying Rose

(Scanguards Vampires #6)

Tina Folsom

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Quinn’s Undying Rose

Scanguards is a registered trademark.

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Book Description

Vampire bodyguard Quinn has lived the last 200 years as a playboy trying in vain to forget the only woman he has ever loved: his human wife Rose, who he believes to be dead.

But Rose is very much alive. Now a vampire herself, she has lived in hiding from Quinn all of these years, having faked her death to hide from him a terrible secret—one she knows would drive him to kill her.

When a powerful and evil vampire threatens to destroy Rose's—and Quinn's—only living descendent, she has no choice but to come out of hiding and ask for Quinn's help. As Quinn struggles with the shock of Rose's reappearance, and they reunite to battle a common foe, they rekindle the flames of their past. But will the passion that reignites between them be enough to overcome the secret that separates them?

MORE BY TINA

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Venice Vampyr

Eternal Bachelors Club

Stealth Guardians

With a look at the calendar, Rose Haverford sighed heavily. Even without reading the date, she would have known what day it was. Every year, she felt it as though it had been carved into her bones, her skull, and her flesh. Already days before, heaviness had started spreading in her heart, and melancholy had soured her disposition. But tonight, she felt the old bitterness well up in her again and move in like an unwelcome relative who would stay too long and stir up too many unpleasant memories.

Over the last two centuries, she’d learned to deal with it. Indeed, she’d found an outlet that helped her evict the painful recollections of the events that had shaped her life and made her into what she was today, what she would always be: a creature of the night, hungering for the blood of humans. A vampire.

Every year on the anniversary of her turning, Rose put pen to paper to write a letter she would never mail. The recipient was long dead, yet the loss was still as fresh and painful as ever.

Dearest Charlotte, she began the letter to her daughter.

Another year has passed and I miss you still. I’ve kept my promise to you even though I could never be the mother that you deserved. You would be very proud of your great-great-great-grandson Blake. He’s a smart young man, ambitious and well-educated, and he’ll one day make something of himself.

Rose groaned. Maybe she should cross out that last sentence. After all, she would only be lying to herself.

He’s a smart young man, well-educated, and . . . he’s arrogant and self-absorbed. When I established the trust fund for Blake to make his life easier, I never imagined he would use it to live a life of excess rather than draw on it to further his career and establish himself. But then, what do I know about men?

Nevertheless, he is my flesh and blood, and I’ve sworn to protect each and every one of my descendents. However, considering his lifestyle, our line might end with him. I don’t see him settling down and starting a family.

From my words you might think I don’t love him, my dearest daughter, but I do. It’s only . . .

She lifted her pen from the paper and heaved a sigh.

. . . he reminds me too much of your father, even though he looks nothing like him. Blake’s hair and complexion are dark, whereas Quinn had the fairest looks in all of England, so handsome, so charming.

And in the end, so deadly.

I wish you could have met your father, but I could never risk him knowing. You do understand, don’t you? He would have made you into one of us, and I couldn’t allow him to deprive you of a normal life, of the chance to have children and a family.

Rose pushed back an involuntary tear. She’d promised herself not to cry, not to wallow in self-pity, but whenever she thought of Quinn Ralston, the second son of the Marquess of Thornton, the man she’d loved with such passion, she couldn’t maintain the icy composure everybody knew her for. She’d been called the coldest vampire this side of the Mississippi. Yet hot blood ran in her veins, and her heart beat for the ones she loved, the family she’d lost, and her only living descendent, her great-great-great-great-grandson Blake.

Despite her misgivings about Blake’s lifestyle, she cared about him. Blood was thicker than water, and to her he was like a son, one who needed guidance.

I plan on following him to the West Coast shortly. My bags are packed. There’s nothing left here for me in Chicago since Blake decided to move to San—

With a loud bang, the French doors leading to her little garden behind her two-story house were thrown open with such force that the panes shattered, scattering shards of colored glass over the priceless rugs and furniture. But there was no time to concern herself with such trivial details. Without losing a second, Rose shoved the unfinished letter into a fashion magazine on the desk and glared at the intruder.

In burst the man she’d hoped never to see again. For once, she would have liked the rumor to be true that vampires couldn’t enter a home uninvited, but alas, this was only a fairy tale.

With eyes flashing red and fangs extended to show his intent, Keegan charged into her living room, his three thugs right behind him. Great, the asshole obviously counted on a fight and was stacking the deck. No surprise there. Why she had ever fooled herself that this man was anything but evil, she couldn’t recall now. But then, she’d slept with plenty of jerks in her long life, and Keegan was no exception. At least she’d finally seen his true character and made a quick exit, but apparently he wasn’t going to let her slip away so easily. She should have followed her instincts and left the night before.

Too late now.

His nostrils quivered as he stalked toward her. Pure fury shot from his eyes, eyes that were trained at her. She’d seen him look at others like this before, unfortunates who were now dead. Instinct urged her to retreat, but her pride dictated that she stand her ground. She had long ago stopped cowering to men; she wasn’t going to start again.

As fast as a bullet, his hand encircled her throat, and as tight as a hangman’s noose, he squeezed it, lifting her up.

“Where the fuck is it?” he pressed out from between clenched teeth, his vile breath ghosting over her face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she managed to say with the limited supply of air he granted her.

He squeezed harder. “You lying whore!”

His other hand came up and slapped her hard across the cheek. The force of the impact whipped her head to the side. At once, she smelled her own blood as it ran down her nose, trickling over her mouth and chin. The sensation tickled just the way she imagined Chinese water torture felt like: annoying as hell. Yet she felt no pain. Too much adrenaline coursed through her veins, equally preventing her from feeling the fear that should drench her body from head to toe at the knowledge of what cruelties Keegan was capable of when he knew he’d been betrayed.

And he had been betrayed. By her.

His eyes drove into her as if he thought he could find the answer to his question there. She would have to disappoint his arrogant ass.

“Call me what you will,” she spat with barely any air left to breathe. It didn’t matter: vampires couldn’t suffocate. They might lose consciousness for a while, but death would have to be delivered by different means.

“I asked: where the FUCK is it?”

When she attempted to shake her head but couldn’t, his grip preventing her, he tossed a glance at his men. “Search the place!”

The three vampires, with more brawn than brain, firmly licked their chops at being ordered to tear her home apart. She didn’t care. She had planned on leaving it all behind anyway. Her real estate agent was going to put the place up for sale tomorrow. Looking at how the three thugs went about their search, it appeared that some major restoration would be necessary before her house would be suitable for viewing by any potential buyers.

“I don’t have it,” she lied.

Another blow broke her nose—she would have to set it before her restorative sleep to make sure it didn’t grow back crooked.

“I saw it on the security camera, you fucking bitch!” Keegan thundered.

Shit! She’d known that his office was wired, but what kind of freak had a camera hidden in his bedroom?

“You recorded us in bed? Fucking perv!”

The thought that tapes of their sexual encounters existed, sickened her. If she had any opportunity, she would go back there now and erase whatever he had recorded. But unfortunately, that plan was dead in the water.

“Oh, I’ll keep watching those tapes whenever I want to. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Rage boiled up in her. Without thinking, she jerked up her knee and kicked it into his nuts. Satisfaction flooded her as his hand around her neck loosened and he doubled over, his face contorted in pain. But her glee was short lived.

Witnessing their master’s predicament, two of his vampire minions instantly charged her. Despite her own speed and agility, they made mincemeat of her efforts to do a runner. Not that she had earnestly thought she stood a chance, but she had never been one to throw in the towel without trying.

By the time the goons had restrained her, bending her arms backwards and holding them in a decidedly uncomfortable position, Keegan had recovered from his temporary pain. She attempted a shrug. Seeing Keegan in pain had been worth it, even though she wished it had lasted longer.

Rose couldn’t bring herself to regret the action even though her erstwhile lover now looked even more pissed off than when he’d stormed into her home.

“Try that again, and you’ll end up at the end of my stake.”

She raised a mocking eyebrow. “Go ahead. Kill me.”

Clearly furious at her taunt, he pulled his stake and launched himself at her.

“But you’ll never find it. Because it isn’t here,” she added calmly, stopping him in his tracks.

“Where did you hide it?”

She let out a bitter laugh. “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to tell you? . . . Men.”

“I’ll make you,” Keegan threatened.

“I’m not afraid of dying. I’ve had a long enough life. I’m tired of it.”

In part, it was the truth. She’d had a long life, and she wasn’t afraid of dying. She’d died before. In fact, tonight was the anniversary of her death as a human and her rebirth as a vampire. But what wasn’t the truth—and what she could never let him guess—was that as much as she hated being a vampire, she wasn’t tired of this life, because she had a purpose.

“Everybody can be forced to talk.” He tossed a wild look around the room, scanning it, searching for something.

“Not I. You have nothing on me, Keegan. You should know that.”

“Even you have a weak spot. Even you, Rose.” The vein in his temple throbbed, attesting to his quick temper.

“If I did, you’d never know. I’m the coldest vampire this side of the Mississippi, don’t you know that? I don’t form emotional attachments. Go ahead, destroy my house. See if I care.”

She didn’t. As a human she’d grown up in wealth; as a young vampire she’d lived on nothing until she’d carved out an existence for herself and finally amassed more wealth than her parents had ever dreamt of. Yet material things meant nothing to her.

Keegan’s eyes narrowed as he swept the room once more with his searching gaze. When his eyes fell on the antique desk where she’d penned her letter only minutes earlier, he paused.

The desk was clean of clutter, except for two items: a fashion magazine and a pen.

He crossed the distance to it with the preternatural poise their species was graced with and picked up the ink pen. Its cap lay on the pristine surface of the desk.

“Been writing your memoires, have you?”

She tried for a nonchalant shrug. “Would you like a copy when I’m done?”

“And read what? The drivels of a whore who’s as cold in bed as a block of ice? A frozen turkey would have provided a more welcome hole for my dick.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she countered. “Your dick won’t even fill the cavity of a rabbit.”

A partial chuckle escaped one of the thugs, before he could stop himself. Big mistake, as it turned out: in vampire speed, Keegan leapt at the guy and plunged a stake into his chest, turning him to dust.

His eyes were glaring red when he turned back. “Anybody else have an opinion on that?”

Rose felt the two vampires who were still restraining her freeze at their boss’s question.

“Didn’t think so.” Keegan returned to the desk. “So where were we?”

He tapped his finger against his temple in mock thought. “Ah, I remember, we were discussing what you were using this pen for.” He motioned his hand to the otherwise empty desk. “Considering that I don’t see any unpaid bills here, I have to assume you weren’t writing checks.”

She lifted her chin and kept her face expressionless. Inside, she was shaking. But decades of having to lie and cheat, to bluff and pretend, had taught her how to keep her poker face. And how to change the subject.

“Maybe I was extolling the virtues of your minuscule dick by writing a poem about it.”

This time, her insult didn’t have the same effect. Keegan merely chuckled. “Nice try, Rose. But even you don’t beat a dead horse, and—” He turned and motioned to the spot where he’d only moments earlier killed his associate. “—we’ve already laid that subject to rest. But thanks for telling me that I’m on the right track.”

With horror, she watched as he rummaged through the desk, pulling out drawers and emptying them, tossing their contents to the ground. Bills, pens, and office supplies fell on the carpet. When the last tiny drawer and its contents tumbled to the floor, Keegan let out a frustrated huff.

“Fuck!” he cursed.

An involuntary sigh of relief escaped her tense lungs, so tiny she thought nobody had noticed, but Keegan’s head snapped to her. He tried to penetrate her with his look.

“It’s there, isn’t it? Your Achilles Heel.”

His head turned back to the desk and the only item that remained on it. “Of course.”

He picked up the magazine and shook it. From its pages, a single sheet of paper fluttered to the floor. He caught it before it reached the ground. “Gotcha.”

Rose’s heart sank.

With a triumphant grin, his eyes flew over the words she’d written, before he looked back at her, chuckling. “Well, well, Rose. Who would have thought that you had a heart? Had me fooled long enough.”

Then he pointed to the letter, snapping his fingers against it. She knew what was coming. He now had a means to force her. To use her love for her own flesh and blood against her.

“The way I see it, you have two choices: give me back what you’ve stolen from me and I let your little grandson live . . . ” He made a dramatic pause. “Don’t, and I’ll kill him.”

A helpless gurgle escaped her throat. Because of her, Blake would suffer. But she couldn’t sacrifice so many lives in exchange for just one, could she? If she gave Keegan what she’d taken from him, he would have the means to control so many lives and destroy those who opposed him. He would grow too powerful to defeat. She couldn’t allow that, not to save just one single life.

“I can’t be blackmailed. If you have to kill him, do it.” Her heart bled for Blake. Despite all his faults, he didn’t deserve this. He deserved a full life, a long and happy one.

Keegan’s eyes narrowed into small slits as he approached. He studied her, but she knew all he would see was her determination to fight him. Then he looked back at the letter, reading it again. When he looked up, he had a self-congratulatory smirk on his face.

“My apologies, Rose. I believe I didn’t use the right means to entice you. Let’s try this again, shall we?” His casual voice turned to ice with his next words. “If you don’t give it back to me, I’ll turn him.”

Her throat seized, robbing her of the ability to breathe. “No,” she managed to choke out.

He moved closer to her, dropping his voice to the same volume as hers. “Yes.”

“Don’t do this.”

Keegan smiled, and had she not known him so well, she would have thought it was out of kindness. “You hate your own species so much you want to save your great-great-whatever-grandson from becoming one of us. Then save him.”

She swallowed. There had to be another way. “It’s not here. I hid it.”

“We’ll go together.”

Quickly, she shook her head. “I’ve left strict instructions: if I don’t go to pick it up on my own, it will be destroyed.”

Keegan’s eyes flashed in obvious distrust. The cords in his neck strained as he fought for control. She held her ground and didn’t flinch.

“I give you two hours to retrieve it.”

Desperate to buy herself more time, she added another lie to her earlier one. “There are other . . . safety precautions I put in place. There are only certain times during which I have access.”

When Keegan narrowed his eyes, she added quickly, “Similar to a time-delay lock at a bank. I need at least twenty-four hours.”

Keegan let out an angry huff. “If you cheat me, I’ll find this Blake. And I’ll make his turning the most horrific event of his life. Do you understand me?”

Rose simply nodded.

“I’ll be watching you. You have twenty-four hours or I’m hunting down your boy.”

He ushered his two henchmen outside and disappeared into the night.

Trembling, her stance faltered. With her last ounce of strength, she reached the sofa and let herself fall onto it.

Tears freed themselves from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks like an avalanche. She couldn’t allow Blake to meet the same fate as her. She’d promised Charlotte and herself that her children and children’s children would lead normal lives. Nobody would be cursed to be a vampire. Never again.

“Where are you when I need you?” she cried out. “Quinn, you have to help me now. You owe me. He’s your flesh and blood too.”

Quinn slunk into the passenger seat as Oliver took the driver’s seat of the SUV and started the engine.

“Wish you could stay longer,” Oliver said as he pulled onto the unlit country lane, leaving the house behind where the inner core of Scanguards had been celebrating yet another blood-bond.

Only vampires and their mates had been invited—well, and Oliver. Not to forget a few dogs: Zane had brought Z, and Samson and Delilah had brought their baby daughter Isabelle’s little puppy too. If they weren’t careful, Scanguards would turn into a circus.

“Gotta get back to New York. Besides, what would I do here? Watch how Zane makes puppy eyes at Portia the same way his dog does?” Quinn chuckled. “Better get out of here. Whatever’s going on here might be contagious.”

The human kid next to him gave him a sideways grin—yeah, he was a kid, barely in his mid-twenties, and while Quinn too looked rather young, he carried the experience and memories of two centuries on his shoulders. Two very long and lonely centuries, despite the fact that he’d never been alone and had always surrounded himself with the hottest pieces of ass available. But being surrounded by others hadn’t chased away the emptiness in his heart. He’d felt it physically tonight. Seeing so many of his friends happily tied to their blood-bonded mates had driven reality home once more.

“Like you would ever settle down,” Oliver claimed. “Hey man, the life you’re living—that’s what I want. Women left, right, and center. You’re doing it right.”

Quinn caught his admiring look and forced his usual charming smile onto his lips. He’d perfected it over the last two hundred years, and by now, even he couldn’t tell how fake it was. If that wasn’t an accomplishment in itself!

“Hey, kiddo, I just make it look easy. Being a playboy takes a lot of work—and energy.” He winked, forcing his thoughts about his past to retreat into the dark recesses of his mind.

Oliver burst out in laughter. “Right! I don’t mind that kind of work.” He wiggled his eyebrows in Groucho Marx fashion. “And energy I’ve got plenty of.”

“The young!” Quinn rolled his eyes. “No appreciation for the art of seduction. It takes skill and cunning to coax a woman into your bed.”

“It takes money, good looks, and a big dick!”

Quinn couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, that certainly helps. But then of course that leaves you short on two things.”

Oliver turned his head away from the winding road ahead of him.

“ ‘Cause the looks you’ve got!” Quinn added.

His young colleague snorted, showing his outrage. “You haven’t seen my dick!”

“Yeah, and by the grace of God, I hope I never will.” Quinn laughed, unable to contain himself.

Oliver glared at him. “I have what it takes!”

“Whatever you say, kiddo!” His eyes started tearing, and he could barely get the words out without bursting into laughter.

“You don’t believe me? What? You think cause you’re a vampire and I’m not, I don’t have the equipment?”

Quinn shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

“Well, is that it? You think you’re better at it because you’re a vampire?”

Quinn decided not to let Oliver goad him into a comparison of their two species. With a grin on his face he winked at him. “Once you’ve been at it for as long as I have, I bet you’d be even better than me. I think you’d be a natural.”

A proud sheen of excitement radiated from Oliver’s eyes. “You really think that?”

“Sure I do. I’ve seen how girls look at you.” He ruffled his dark hair, which as usual stood in all directions as if he’d just gotten out of bed. “Of course at this point they all just want to tame your wild mane. But trust me, that’s an advantage: you reel them in with your innocent, cute-boy looks, and badabing-badaboom, you’ve got them in the sack.”

Oliver grinned from ear to ear. “Yeah!”

He looked so innocent and fresh-faced, Quinn felt his heart clench for a moment. He’d been like Oliver once: full of excitement for his life ahead. Full of hope. In love. And then he’d lost it all: his life, his hope, his love.

He cleared his throat, desperately trying to push down the rising memories and reached for the first words that came to him. “You should come visit me in New York. We can hang out and pick up some babes.”

“Really?” Oliver’s voice was full of awe as if he’d just been presented with the keys to a Lamborghini. “You mean that? Man! That’s awesome!”

Quinn sighed. Now he’d unleashed something in the kid that would last at least until they reached the airport, where a private Scanguards jet was waiting to take him to New York. Better that than wallowing in his own thoughts. And maybe a visit from Oliver would be fun. Jake, who was currently holding down the fort in the New York office of Scanguards, could join them, and the three of them could go hunting.

He could teach the kid a thing or two, just for the hell of it. When he was older, he would understand that it wasn’t about how many conquests he made, but who he conquered.

“Why don’t you talk to Samson and ask him to give you a couple of weeks off? I’m sure he’ll be okay with it. Now that Zane’s all domesticated, I really have nobody else to go partying with.”

Oliver’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “You mean I’m going to be like Zane? Like I’m taking his place?”

Quinn howled. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Oliver! Nobody can be like Zane!”

“But I’m taking his place, aren’t I?” he hastened to repeat.

Quinn gave him a slap on the shoulder, secretly happy about the kid’s enthusiasm. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop needling him. “Those are big shoes to fill. You’re up for that?”

“You say when and where, and I’m your man!” Oliver proclaimed, beaming at him.

Quinn nodded, his head turning sideways, when he perceived something in the corner of his eye. His head whipped toward the dark road in front of them. Shit!

“Oliver! Watch out!” he yelled.

Oliver’s head snapped to the obstacle in front of them: in their lane, cones cordoned off equipment for road work, resting there for the night, but the flashing lights that usually accompanied such blockages weren’t flashing—they appeared dim and barely recognizable in the dark night. To the right of it there was no outlet: a wall of rock rose next to the shoulder.

“Fuck!” came from Oliver’s mouth.

“Swerve!”

Just as Oliver yanked the steering wheel to the left to avoid the excavator, the light of another car speeding toward them, blinded them. In vampire speed, Quinn jerked the wheel back to the right, just as Oliver slammed on the brakes.

The tires screeched, and the back of the car fishtailed out. Loose gravel from the construction site suddenly made the tires spin without finding purchase. The car advanced, virtually unimpeded, heading straight for the excavator. Wildly turning the unresponsive steering wheel and pressing down the brakes, Oliver tried to avoid the inevitable. With a loud thud, the car crashed into the side of the small excavator, which toppled to its side. Only now, Quinn noticed the crane next to it.

The power of the impact deployed the airbags, but the windows blew out and with horror, Quinn saw how Oliver was thrown out of the car. He hadn’t worn his seat belt.

Quinn was held back by his own seat belt, the air bag suddenly obstructing his view.

He fumbled for the release of the belt and realized that it was jammed. He forced his fingers to turn into claws, but just as he sliced through the material, he heard a snapping sound and looked around him when he perceived a movement outside the passenger window. As he whirled his head to look through it, he saw a large plate of steel, suspended from the beam of the crane, swinging toward him.

He froze in mid-movement. Shit! There was no way out of this. The steel plate would decapitate him. It was over.

His life didn’t flash before him; maybe it wasn’t that way for vampires. Only one thought filled him now. He was finally going home.

Rose.

With a last breath, he sighed.

Rose, we’ll be together again. Finally.

Then he felt the impact as the car got hit. He was knocked sideways, hitting the steering wheel to his left. All went black.

London, 1813

“Rose,” Quinn whispered from behind a hedge as he saw her emerge from the ballroom and step onto the quiet terrace, where at present nobody else sought refuge from the crowd.

She looked lovelier than ever. Her golden hair was piled high on her head, soft ringlets pulled from it to surround her perfectly oval face. Her skin was alabaster—not a single wrinkle anywhere, flawless. Her dress was cut fashionably low, her small bosom enhanced by the bodice that pushed up her flesh as if presenting it on a platter. With each step she took, it threatened to escape the silken fabric of her dress, bouncing merrily up and down, driving any breathing man insane in the process. More so Quinn, for he was in love with the delightful creature.

“Rose.”

When she heard his voice, she hurried in his direction, cautiously throwing a glance over her shoulder toward the ballroom, making sure nobody had followed her.

In the seconds it took her to come to him, he admired her graceful walk, which seemed as light as that of a gazelle. The sound of her slippers was absorbed into nothingness as soon as she stepped off the terrace and onto the manicured lawn below.

Quinn reached for her and pulled her behind the hedge with him, hungry for a touch. A kiss even.

“Quinn.” Her voice was breathless as if she’d danced one of the more energetic country dances the lower classes enjoyed and not the sedate dances their hosts, Lord and Lady Somersby, preferred.

When he dragged her against him, disregarding all manners and decorum, the rays of the moon lit her face, presenting her heated cheeks to his gaze. But his eyes dipped lower to those lips that waited, slightly parted, for his touch.

“Oh, Rose, my love. I couldn’t wait another moment.”

He sunk his lips onto hers, taking in her pure scent, her innocent response. With a sigh, he slid his hand to the back of her head and pulled her closer. When he nudged his tongue against her lips, a soft whimper issued from her mouth. He welcomed it and slipped his tongue between her lips, sliding it along her teeth, coaxing, tempting, urging. Her taste was intoxicating, her scent mouthwatering.

Finally, her timid tongue met his, and life stood still.

“My Rose,” he mumbled and slanted his mouth, diving into her, his passion unleashed, his control shattered. This was the third time he kissed her, and just like the first two times, the moment she responded to him, he was lost.

His other hand went down to her buttocks, palming her curves through the thin layers of her ball gown. A shocked gasp escaped her, but a moment later, she molded her heated body to his, her soft breasts rubbing against his evening coat. And lower down, where his trousers were bulging with a shaft as hard as a blacksmith’s iron rod, he nestled against her soft center. Was it the summer air or the fact she’d danced all night that he perceived her so hot there? Or did the heat have an altogether different reason?

The thought nearly drove him to madness. But he couldn’t take her here, where any moment now, another amorous couple or some unsuspecting guest might stumble upon them. Reluctantly, he released her lips. Yet he couldn’t let go of her body.

“We must be careful,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, her lips looking thoroughly red and abused. He was responsible for that, but by God, he couldn’t regret it.

“Papa will soon notice that I am gone.”

“Nonsense, your father is occupied at the tables. And I’ve made sure your chaperone is otherwise engaged.”

Her eyes widened. Was it surprise or delight he saw in them?

“Pray tell, what did you do?”

He winked at her mischievously. “I made sure she had an ardent admirer this evening who will claim all her dances and ply her with punch.”

She flicked her fan lightly against his waistcoat. “You are cruel. What if she believes in his insincere attention?”

Quinn took her hand and led her fingers to his lips, kissing them one-by-one as he replied, “Who says his attention is insincere? Mayhap he simply needed a little encouragement to overcome his shyness.”

“You, my lord,” she said in mock-reprimand, “have not a single young man in your acquaintance to whom the label of ‘shy’ might apply. The company you keep is considered most . . . ” She hesitated, looking for the correct word. “ . . . debauched.”

“Does it matter what company I keep? All I truly desire is yours. And once you grant it, I shall be with only you.”

“You mean to say, once my father grants it.”

Quinn sighed, his chest heavy with what he had come to tell her tonight. He’d thought long and hard about it, had even discussed it with his older brother, who had thought the idea a viable one.

“What is wrong?” Her voice carried the sound of concern.

“Ah, perceptive as always. Is there anything I can hide from you?”

Rose gave him a coquettish smile, one that made his heart melt. “Do you want to hide anything from me, my lord?”

He pulled her closer. “If you call me ‘my lord’ one more time, I certainly shall. But when my name crosses your lips, I will be utterly incapable of doing so.”

Her eyelids fluttered as her cheeks colored in a deeper red. “Quinn.” More breath than sound, the word tumbled from her lips.

Capturing her chin between thumb and forefinger, he brought her mouth to his. “Ah, Rose, you tempt me so.”

He sensed her lift herself onto her tip toes, and he had no restraint left. All he could do was kiss her, take her soft lips, caress her wicked tongue, all the while pressing her soft curves to his body, fueling the fire inside him until he realized that he could not take leave of her tonight.

Nudging back from her lips, he put his forehead to hers. “My love, I will be leaving tomorrow. For the continent.”

A shocked gasp escaped her as she pulled her head back to stare at him in surprise. “Leaving?”

With his knuckles, he brushed over her cheek. “I purchased a commission and shall be joining Wellington’s army.”

Her lips quivered. “You are going to war?”

She pulled from him, but he dragged her back.

“It’s the only way. Your father won’t give his consent. I spoke to him. He simply laughed in my face.”

“You spoke to Papa? About me?”

He nodded. “I asked for your hand. He refused, saying I have nothing to offer you, no title, no wealth of significance. My brother will inherit the title; all I have is a small estate from my mother’s side. Your father doesn’t deem it sufficient.”

And why should he? Rose deserved so much more. She was the daughter of an Earl, a beauty at that, and suitors lined up wherever she appeared. Her father would be a fool to allow her to marry a second son, a man without a title.

“But he must understand.” Her eyes reddened, a sign that tears were imminent.

Quinn laid his finger across her lips. “Shh, my love. Hear me out. I have a plan. It will work.”

Rose raised her lids in hope. Ah, how he could see the love shining in her eyes, a love that burned for him. It was all worth it, just to see this.

“I have spoken to several officers in Wellington’s army. I can rise in the ranks very quickly. I’ll be fighting by Wellington’s side soon and come back a decorated war hero. Many doors will open for me; I will be wealthy, and despite the lack of title, your father won’t refuse me then.”

He could see the little wheels in her pretty head turn, the way frown lines showed on her forehead told him as much.

“But you can get killed.”

Of course, she would be worried about him. He hadn’t expected anything less. “You know me. I can look after myself. I promise you, I’ll come back in one piece.”

She gave him a doubtful look. “They all say that. And then they come back, limbs missing, or worse, they don’t come back at all. I have heard of the accounts, of the terrible things that happen on the battlefield.” She turned away from him.

Quinn sighed and put his arms around her from behind, pulling her against him, her soft buttocks fitting perfectly against his groin. “My love, I will come back to you. I promise you that. I won’t allow anybody to kill me. And you know why?”

“Why?” she asked, her voice quiet and resigned.

He dipped his head to her neck. “Because I love you, and I plan on spending my life making you happy.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, if you promise me one thing too.”

“Yes?” She turned her head to meet his gaze.

“You won’t entertain any other offers of marriage. You are mine, no other man will ever touch you.”

She closed her eyes. “Papa will force me.”

Quinn shook his head. “No, he won’t be able to.” Tonight he would make sure that Rose could never accept another man.

He turned her to face him. “Because tonight, you’ll become mine.”

He witnessed the exact moment when Rose realized what he was saying. First, shock spread over her lovely features, then a furious blush, her bosom heaving in concert with her excited breaths.

“You are planning on ruining me?” she whispered.

“Not ruin. I’m going to make you mine; I’m going to make you my wife and love you like a husband.”

“A husband,” she murmured in disbelief. “Without the blessings of the church and society?”

He chuckled. His sweet Rose! How could she believe he would even contemplate such a thing? He patted his breast pocket. “Of course not, my sweet, I have procured a special license, and have a minister and a witness waiting for us this minute.”

“But I don’t understand. If we were to get married tonight, why do you need to go to war at all?”

With a heavy heart, Quinn looked at her. “Because I want your father’s consent. For you. I don’t want you to be shunned by your family and by society. This will remain our secret, and only should your father force you to marry somebody else during my absence, will you reveal to him that you’re already married to me. Only then. And once I return a war hero, I will ask for your father’s permission. And we shall marry a second time. And nobody except you and I will be the wiser.”

She contemplated his words, her intelligent eyes studying him. “So you are proposing to me?”

He nodded. “And your answer?”

She flicked her fan at him. “Has nobody taught you how to propose?” She clicked her tongue, clearly amused. “Well, on your knees then.”

Laughing, he dropped to one knee. “You’re not making this easy, my love. But since you insist.”

“I do indeed. Since this will be the only offer of marriage I shall entertain, I would at least like to enjoy the performance.”

Her encouragement lifted his worries about a possible rejection. “My darling Rose, will you marry me and let me love you for the rest of our lives?”

“Yes!” She threw herself at him, making him land on his back, with her on top of him.

“Ah, I like this position.”

“Quinn Ralston, you are a scoundrel!”

“Yes, a scoundrel on his wedding night. Now my sweet bride, release me from this utterly compromising position, so we can meet the minister and enjoy the rest of tonight’s performance.”

As he repeated her words, she let out another delightful laugh.

The minister was waiting at a little chapel only a short stroll from the grounds of the Somersby’s estate. Next to him, his friend James Worthington, stood patiently.

If anybody asked him to recount the ceremony later, Quinn would be unable to do so. He was too mesmerized by the sight of his alluring bride. All he could do was look at her, knowing that shortly she would be his wife in every sense of the word.

“I do take thee, Quinn Robert James Ralston . . . ”

When the door to the chapel shut behind the minister and his friend, Quinn lifted Rose into his arms.

“My wife.”

“My husband.”

He started walking them toward the door.

“Where are we going?”

“To a small cottage.” Quinn had arranged for a place nearby, where they could spend a few hours alone, knowing there would be no time to take her to his own townhouse, which was clear across town.

When they reached the house that was tucked away in a side street, he wasn’t disappointed. The owner had made sure the inside of the small cottage was clean and comfortable. He headed for the door that led to the bedroom. Clean linen covered the bed in the corner, and a single candle burned on a chest of drawers nearby.

While he’d hoped for a more lavish environment to make Rose his, he knew there was no time to lose. He was leaving at first light, and consummating their marriage was paramount. It was the only way of making sure that her father couldn’t marry her off to one of the titled suitors who, even now, were hovering in the ballroom for their chance at claiming her. She would have to wait for him and him alone.

He set Rose back on her feet and closed the door behind them. When she turned to him in the dim light, he recognized her heavy breathing and her flushed face.

“Don’t be afraid, my love. I won’t hurt you. I’ll be the gentlest of lovers. Your pleasure is my pleasure.” He meant it. Now that he knew she would surrender to him, he would take his time to create a memory she would look back at with joy until he returned.

“I’m not afraid,” she whispered, her lips trembling nevertheless.

She was so brave, his beautiful Rose.

Slowly he lifted his hands and stroked along her neck down to her shoulders, where the puffed sleeves of her gown sat like little butterflies, delicate and nearly transparent. Gently, he took hold of the thin fabric and tugged on it, inching it down her arms.

Her breath hitched, her lips parting in the same instant as she lowered her lids to avoid his gaze.

“Rose, look at me.”

She lifted her eyes.

“You should feel no shame. What is between us is pure and honest.”

He moved his hands to her chest, slowly pushing her bodice lower. Without the restraints of a corset, the fabric moved out of the way, freeing her breasts, delivering them to his hungry eyes. Dark rose buds sat on pink mounds of flesh that despite the lack of any support were firm. Her breasts weren’t large, but they were perfect in shape and form. He feasted his eyes on the sight, unable to get enough.

Rose’s eyes squeezed shut. He bent to her, kissing her lids one after the other.

“Oh, Rose, you are beautiful. I am the luckiest man in all of England.”

Then he allowed his hands to roam. As he palmed her breasts, feeling her warm flesh in his hands for the first time, his cock twitched in anticipation.

“Tell me, my love, what am I holding in my hands?”

Her eyes widened.

“Tell me,” he coaxed.

“M . . . my br . . . breasts.”

He gave her a soft smile. “Men call them tits.”

At the crude word, he saw her pull in a breath.

“Yes, and you have gorgeous tits, my beautiful wife. The most beautiful tits I have ever seen.”

Her cheeks flushed even more, but there was no anger in her eyes, instead he saw signs of desire there, of passion, of lust. Yes, Rose, his lovely, proper Rose, had a wild streak in her. He’d always known it; in fact, it was what had made him fall in love with her. And it was why he’d known she would surrender to him, because she wanted it too. She wanted to experience that wildness, that passion. With him.

Bending his head, he captured one beautiful taut nipple with his lips and sucked on it.

“Ohhh!” she exclaimed, almost immediately thrusting her chest out so he could take more of her.

“You like that?” he mumbled, continuing to lick and suck her responsive breast.

“Yes, oh yes, Quinn. It feels . . . it feels so . . . good.”

He released her breast only to lavish the same attention on the other one. When he felt her hand on his neck to hold him to her, he couldn’t suppress a grin. Oh yes, she would be a wonderful wife, and an even more amazing lover. And knowing that he would never get enough of her, they would have many children, a whole estate full of them.

Not taking his mouth off her breast, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, where he set her on her feet. Hastily, he took off his coat and opened the buttons of his waistcoat, feeling his body heat up as if a furnace were burning inside him.

Only when he’d freed himself of his waistcoat, did he allow himself to lay his hands on her again. Instantly, she melted into him. He tugged on the dress, loosening a few of the fastenings in the back, and pushed it to the ground. Her petticoat and chemise followed. When she stood before him only in her drawers, her arms went around her torso as if to protect herself.

He took them and gently moved them to her sides. “Never hide yourself from me. Beauty like yours should never be hidden.”

Moments later, she lay on her back on the bed with Quinn slowly untying the strings of her drawers. Her hand clamped over his, making him look at her face.

“I’m scared.”

He pressed a kiss on her hand. “I am too.”

“You are?” Her eyes stared at him, wide and surprised.

“Yes, because if I can’t pleasure you, if you don’t enjoy what I’m going to do, I will lose you. And I can’t lose you. I need you, Rose.”

A relieved smile spread on her face and all the way to her eyes. “If you do anything close to what you do to me when you kiss me, I’m certain I will enjoy it.”

Her words made his heart stutter. Was she telling him that she found his kisses arousing?

“Tell me what you feel when I kiss you.”

Her eyes closed half way. “I get this warm feeling. All warm and . . . tingling.”

“Where? Where does it tingle?” he urged her.

Rose pulled her lower lip between her teeth and that action alone brought him to the brink of release. How much longer he could hold back before he had to thrust his hard cock into her, he didn’t know.

“There,” she whispered almost inaudibly, hesitantly moving her hand lower, releasing his and bringing it to the apex of her thighs. “There.”

A moan escaped him at the knowledge of what his kisses did to her. Because they did the same to him.

“I can do more than just make you tingle there,” he promised and slowly moved her drawers over her hips, revealing her most secret place, then pulling them down her legs. He discarded them carelessly and quickly looked at what he’d unveiled.

The canopy that guarded her sweet cunny was a dusting of blond curls, barely hiding the rosy flesh beneath. The scent of her arousal wafted to him, enveloping him in a cocoon of desire and lust. He’d been with other women, sown his oats, but never before had the scent of a woman caused him to lose his senses as with Rose.

He tore his shirt from his torso, perspiring at the mere thought of what he was about to do.

“I will cherish this, cherish you,” he whispered, spreading her thighs as if he’d done so a thousand times before.

Then he sank between her legs, lowering his head to her sex.

“What are you—?”

But he cut off her surprised question by placing his lips onto her soft curls and soaking in her intoxicating scent.

“But you can’t . . . ” she tried to protest, her voice dying with a moan before it came to life again. “Surely, this is not proper.”

He lifted his head for a moment and unleashed a satisfied grin. “Oh, my love, but it is very proper. A man who doesn’t want to eat his wife’s sweet cunny, is a Philistine. He has no sense of taste or pleasure. And I pride myself on both.”

With a moan, he brushed his lips against her sex and took his first lick. His tongue swiped over her nether lips, those plump folds that glistened with her desire, and carried her taste into his mouth. Her nectar was sweet and tangy at the same time, so many different flavors bursting in his mouth in a symphony of delight. Ah, yes, she would be a wonderful wife, one whose bedchamber he would visit nightly. In fact, he didn’t see the need to have his own bedchamber. He would simply move into hers, sleep with her in his arms every night. A shocking proposition, yet one he hoped she would agree to.

When he felt her twist under his mouth and heard soft moans and sighs—hers not his—fill the small chamber, he knew that he could give his sweet Rose a night to remember. Taking his time, he spread her legs wider, opening her folds, testing and tasting, exploring her, never neglecting the bundle of flesh that sat just at the base of her curls. Her pearl was engorged, red and swollen, and with each lick he delivered, with each swipe of his tongue over the sensitive organ, she issued sounds of pleasure.

Her naked breasts heaved, her breaths coming in short pants, and her skin started to glisten, a thin sheen of perspiration spreading over her entire body, evidence of the heat that was building inside her. The same kind of heat that was inside him, ready to burst to the surface.

His cock pulsated angrily against the flap of his trousers. He tried to ignore it as best he could. First, he wanted to give her pleasure. And he could only do that as long as he kept his own lust leashed. Once his cock was thrusting into her, there was no way he could keep the passion inside him under control. He would pound into her like a wild animal, unable to see to her pleasure. He’d desired her for too long to destroy this perfect moment with haste, despite the fact he was starving for her.

“Oh, yes,” she moaned, her hands digging into his hair, holding him to her, urging him for more.

His tongue lashed against her pearl, rapidly and with single-minded purpose: to show her ultimate ecstasy, to teach her the pleasures her body was capable of. Pleasures he could unleash in her, share with her.

With his finger, he stroked against her cleft, gently probing. God, she was tight. He would split her in half if he tried to plunge into her. How could she possibly get used to him? There was so little time; he had only tonight.

With trepidation, Quinn slowly pressed his finger between her plump nether lips, parting them. His tongue never ceasing to caress her swollen pearl, he drove his digit into her tight opening. An instinctive tensing of her muscles was her response, so he doubled his efforts on her precious button, licking it harder and faster.

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