Page 121 of Wicked Rivals
“You’re trouble.” Rosalind laughed and then gasped as he did something to her underpinnings. Suddenly his hand had found its way between her thighs, stroking her folds. She tensed, startled at first, but then relaxed at his tender touch. A delicious fire spread through her whenever he caressed her. She moaned helplessly.
“Hush,” he chided as he gently played with her, flicking one finger over her sensitive bud, then trailing his fingertips inside her. But it wasn’t enough.
“If you don’t—”
“Hush now, little hellion.” He grinned at her.
He unfastened his breeches and nestled into her, thrusting into her with a hint of wildness that made her hungry for all the other things he could do to her. She came fast and hard, crying out her pleasure. Whenever they made love it was wildly exciting, yet it always ended with a perfect moment of tenderness. Ashton came apart above her, and his piercing blue eyes softened.
She could stay with him forever like this, their bodies entwined. His hands held hers pinned into the bedding, their fingers inerlaced. It was then that she suddenly looked up and realized there was a soft gleam above them. Something she hadn’t noticed before.
“What is that?” she asked him, pointing upward. But she remembered the answer to her own question. It was the mirror, angled so that she could see herself and Ashton atop her. The image of their bodies together did something strange to her womb. It clenched and she felt herself needing him again. She tightened her legs around him, watching his body jerk in the mirror, and she clenched around his shaft in response.
Ashton panted as he began to harden inside her again. “The mirrors. They make things…interesting…” he finally finished before he leaned down to nip her bottom lip.
She agreed, captivated by the sight of them together.My baron with his dark side.She couldn’t deny she loved it and him. “We should have more of them,” she whispered in his ear. She nibbled his lobe, and he hissed a shallow breath as he thrust harder into her until they were falling off the steep cliff of passion once more.
“You are perfect,” he whispered against her, his body trembling as she nuzzled his cheek.
“As are you,” she chuckled. They were perhaps the two most perfection-minded individuals, and yet they had fallen for each other.
I can find no fault with him, at least none I don’t possess myself. We are but two sides of the same coin.
“We should skip dinner.” Ashton smiled and rocked his hips again, reminding her of their connection.
Rosalind bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I suppose we could rush dinner and then shoo everyone out. They would understand. Itisour wedding night, after all.”
“Indeed.” Ashton lowered his head for one more lingering kiss. “I love you, my Scottish hellion. You were the answer to my silent prayers.” His words made her throat tighten, and it took her a minute to compose herself.
“And you were the answer to dreams I had given up on long ago.” She smiled through watery eyes. “I love you, baron mine.”
No matter what came next, she and Ashton would face the future together, and the League would be by their side.
Epilogue
Ashton stood in a private drawing room at his estate with the fire crackling in the hearth behind him. Before him stood his five closest friends. They had been through so much this past year, and yet in some ways it felt like only the beginning.
Godric leaned on a cane, his leg still giving him a bit of a limp. Lucien toyed with a slip of red silk. Cedric and Jonathan were pouring glasses of brandy for the others. Charles leaned against the wall by the door, his gaze pensive.
In his hand Charles held the small gold decoder device that he’d found in his room. Rosalind had confirmed that it was the one her father had sent. The key to unlocking Hugo’s letters had been under their noses all along. Charles toyed with the device as he met Ashton’s gaze, impatient to get started.
“What is with the cloak-and-dagger gathering?” Lucien asked. “Has there been a development regarding Waverly?”
Ashton removed a single letter from his waistcoat and held it up. Every man’s eyes fixed on the few precious pieces of parchment. “We shall see.”
“Is that…?” Godric’s arms dropped to his sides as he came closer.
“It is,” Ashton confirmed. He had informed his friends about the nature of the letters back in Scotland, but he had kept the existence of this surviving letter a secret until now.
“For so long we’ve wondered how Hugo had the resources and manpower to cause us so much grief this past year. And now it seems we have an answer. Sir Hugo Waverly is a spy. Of course, knowing this helps us little. Accusing him of such things openly would solve nothing. He is in service to the Crown.”
“But if he had acted in ways the Crown could not officially condone…” Godric said.
Ashton nodded. “Exactly. Charles and I deciphered this message last night. This letter shows that Hugo was conducting his spy trade in Scotland and that he had the rebellion leaders murdered.” Ashton paused. “Unfortunately, it also shows that Waverly worked with the previous Lord Kincade, who betrayed his own people.”
“Ash, we know what we have to do,” Charles said. “Outing that bastard and ruining whatever games he is playing could see him exiled from England, or worse. The Crown wouldn’t defend him. If they did, it would be admitting that they sanctioned murder to keep Scotland part of Britain.”
Ashton set the letter on the mantle above the fireplace and turned back to his friends, his throat tight as he spoke. “It also has the power to destroy my wife’s happiness. This letter would blacken her family’s name, paint her brothers as sons of a traitor. They would be outcasts among their own people in their own lands, simply because of the greedy actions of two men.”
