NCLE Jason!”

Reggie threw herself into her uncle’s outstretched arms, thrilled to see him. Jason Malory, Third Marquis of Haverston, was a big man, as all her uncles were big men. She liked that.

“I’ve missed you, my girl. Haverston isn’t the same when you’re away.”

“You say that every time I come home.” She smiled at him fondly. “Actually I did want to come home for a while before all this happened. I still do.” She looked around the drawing room and saw Uncle Edward and Uncle Tony.

“And leave your bridegroom cooling his heels here in London?”

“Somehow I don’t think he would mind,” she replied softly.

He led her to the cream-colored sofa where Anthony was sitting. Edward was standing by the fireplace, as was his habit. They had more than likely been having a family discussion before her arrival. It must have been about she-knew-what. Nobody had even told her that Uncle Jason was there.

“I was afraid I wouldn’t have time to talk to you before you were due to leave,” Jason began. “I’m glad you came down early.”

Reggie shrugged. “Well, I kept Nicholas waiting yesterday when he took me to Vauxhall, and I didn’t want to do that again.”

Jason sat back, looking very solemn. “I can’t say as I like having this matter settled before I even got here. My brothers took a lot upon themselves.”

“You know we had no choice, Jason,” Edward defended himself.

“A few days wouldn’t have made any difference,” Jason returned.

“Are you saying you will withhold your consent now, after the engagement has been decided on?” Reggie exclaimed.

Anthony chuckled. “I warned you, Jason. She’s got her heart set on the young rake, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

“Is that true, Reggie?”

It had been true, yes, but… she wasn’t so sure now, not after yesterday. She knew Nicholas still wanted her. He had made that plain. And she wanted him. Why pretend otherwise? But marriage?

“I do like him very much, Uncle Jason, but— I’m afraid he doesn’t really want to marry me.”

There. It was said. Why did it make her feel so desolate?

“I have been told that he refused adamantly before he agreed,” Jason said gently. “That was only to be expected. No young man likes to be forced into anything.”

Her eyes filled with hope. Could that be the only reason?

“I forget that you do know him,” she said, “better than the rest of us.”

“Yes, and I’ve always liked the boy. There is a lot more to him than he allows the world to see.”

“Spare us, brother,” Anthony said sardonically.

“He’ll make her a good husband, Tony, despite what you seem to think.”

“Do you really think so, Uncle Jason?” Reggie asked, hope rising.

“I do indeed,” he said firmly.

“Then you approve of my marrying him?”

“I’d have preferred to see you married under normal circumstances, but as this unfortunate situation has come upon us, I can’t say I’m unhappy that the fellow is Nicholas Eden, no.”

Reggie grinned happily, but before she could say any more, her cousins started drifting in. They were all going with her to the Hamiltons’ rout, Amy with her and Nicholas, the others with Marshall in his smart new four-seater. Amidst all the merry chatter as Jason was greeted by his nieces and nephews, Nicholas arrived and stood in the doorway unnoticed. Panic washed over him as he viewed this large family. He was supposed to marry into this overwhelming brood? God help him.

It was Reggie who approached him first. He smiled down at her, determined to keep a tight rein on his emotions this time. She was stunning in a cream day gown that complemented her transluscent complexion. The style was unusual, for while most London women delighted in exposing as much of their bosom as possible, she had contrived to cover hers with a gauze insert that rose all the way to her neck, ending in a thick lacy band around her throat. He was amused. Perhaps he had marked her there and this was her clever way of concealing it. He wondered.

“Nicholas?” she asked, curious as to what he was thinking.

“So you have decided to have done with formality?” he said softly. “I feared you wouldn’t be speaking to me at all today.”

“Are we to argue again, then?” She looked crushed.

“Perish the thought, love.”

She blushed prettily. Why did he persist in calling her that? It wasn’t proper and he knew it wasn’t. But that was Nicholas.

The Marquis greeted Nicholas warmly and without mentioning the wild escapade that accounted for the engagement. The ride to the Hamiltons’ country house a few miles outside of London went smoothly, too, young Amy filling each lapse in conversation with excited chatter, for she wasn’t often allowed to go to late-night parties.

It remained then to see what reactions the engaged couple would receive at the Hamiltons’ for Nicholas’ engagement to Regina was overtaking the subject of their first improper meeting in the gossip mills. He had found that out the previous evening, at a dinner party.

The Hamilton soiree wasn’t a large gathering. There were only a hundred people present in the large country house, so there was plenty of room to move around. Guests sampled the array of food set out on long tables, danced in a salon cleared for that purpose, or chatted in small groups. A few stodgy ones glared at the sight of Nicholas and Regina together, but most engaged in wild speculation concerning their first unorthodox meeting.

It had always been arranged that they marry, was the on-dit. He had only been amusing himself with Selena while waiting for Regina to return to London. They had met on the Continent, you know. No, no, my dears, they met at Haverston. He and the Marquis’ son have been quite chummy for years, don’t you know.

“Have you heard what they’re saying, love?” Nicholas asked as he claimed her first waltz. “They have us betrothed since you were in swaddling.”

Reggie had heard some of the more outlandish speculations from her cousins. “Never say so,” she giggled. “My other beaux will be devastated that they never had a real chance.”

“Other beaux?”

“The dozens and dozens who sought my hand.” A few glasses of champagne had brought out the imp in her.

“I hope you are exaggerating, Regina.”

“I wish I were,” she sighed, blissfully unaware of his changing temper. “It has been most tedious, you know, trying to make a choice from so many. I was quite ready to give up… and then you came along.”

“How fortunate for me.” Nicholas was furious. He had no idea that he was jealous. Without another word, he maneuvered them to the side of the room, where he abruptly left her with Marshall and Amy, giving her a curt bow in parting. His back to her, he headed for the card room, where he could get a more potent libation than champagne.

Reggie frowned, utterly bewildered. To tease her about the new gossip, smile at her with great tenderness, warm her with his honey-gold eyes, and then become so angry without reason. What was the matter with him?

Reggie smiled, determined not to let him make her miserable. She was asked to dance again and again, and she renewed acquaintances with the young men who had flocked around her last season. Basil Elliot and George Fowler, two persistent admirers, now dramatically professed their lives at an end because of the Viscount’s good fortune. Both young men swore they would love her forever. Reggie was amused and flattered, for George and Basil were both wildly popular. Their attentions made up for Nicholas’ rudeness.

It was some two hours before the errant Lord Montieth decided to join Reggie again. She had not seen him in all that time, but he had seen her. Time and again he had stood in the door of the card room and seen her laughing up at a dancing partner, or surrounded by ardent beaux. The sight sent him right back for another drink. He was pleasantly foxed by the time he approached her.

“Will you dance with me, love?”

“Will we finish this dance?” she rejoined.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t wait for her to accept either but clamped his hand onto her waist and moved her out onto the dance floor. It was another waltz, and he held her much too close this time.

“Did I tell you yet this evening that I want you?” he asked her suddenly.

She had been aware that there was something different about him, but it wasn’t until he leaned close that she smelled the brandy. She wasn’t worried though. No one who could move around a dance floor so gracefully could be foxed.

“I wish you wouldn’t say that kind of thing, Nicholas.”

“ ‘Nicholas,’ ” he repeated. “Sweet of you to call me by my given name, love. After all, most everyone here thinks we are already lovers, so it would seem a bit odd for you to call me Lord Montieth.”

“If you don’t want me to—”

“Did I say that?” he interrupted. “But something like ‘beloved’ would be even nicer than just ‘Nicholas.’ I suppose you must love me if you want to marry me. And I don’t want to marry you, but I do want you, love. Never doubt it.”

“Nicholas—”

“It’s all I can seem to think about,” he went on. “I am found guilty, yet I have not been permitted to enjoy my crime. Hardly fair, don’t you agree?”

“Nicholas—”

“Beloved,” he corrected. Then he changed the subject.

“Let’s go see the Hamiltons’ lovely gardens.” Before she could protest, he led her off the dance floor and out of the house.

The gardens were brilliantly landscaped into rolling lawns dotted with trees, man-made ponds, flower beds, a topiary garden, and even a gazebo, so thickly covered by flowering vines that it resembled a tree.

They did not pause to appreciate these beauties. In a twinkling Reggie found herself inside the gazebo, wrapped in Nicholas’ arms, being kissed so thoroughly she was close to fainting.

Moonlight spilled in through the hanging vines, bathing them in soft silver light. Padded benches hugged each short, trellised wall. The floor was wood, smooth and polished. There were large potted plants scattered between the benches, their leaves rustling gently in the warm night air.

Deep down Reggie knew that Nicholas was not going to be satisfied with just kissing her, not this time. It would be up to her to stop him. But a voice inside her demanded to know why she wanted to stop him.

He was going to be her husband, wasn’t he? Why should she deny him anything—especially when she didn’t want to deny him anything? And wasn’t it possible that his attitude toward their marriage would change if they…? Well, wasn’t it?

How conveniently the mind works to get what it wants. And how predictably the body reacts to pleasant feelings, wanting more and more. Her mind and her body conspired against Reggie, and soon there was no fight left in her. She wrapped her arms around Nicholas in surrender.

He carried her to a bench, sat down, and cradled her in his lap. “You will not be sorry, love,” he whispered, and then his warm mouth claimed hers again.

Sorry? How could she be when she was so excited and happy?

He supported her back with one arm while his other hand moved slowly along her neck, then lower, making her gasp as it passed over her breasts. On it went, over her belly, down her thigh. He was feeling her hesitantly, as if he couldn’t quite believe she would let him. But as his hand began to trace that same path upward, he became bolder, more possessive.

Through the thin silk of her gown, her skin began to burn. The gown was in the way, a nuisance. He thought so too. The button at her throat came undone first, then the tie that held the gown beneath her breasts. In another moment they were standing and he had it removed completely.

Nicholas gasped at the sight of Regina in silk underclothes that clung, molding her gentle curves. She looked right back at him, unashamed, which fanned the flames licking at him. Her eyes were black in the shadowy light, her young breasts straining at the lacy chemise. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

The small bruise at the base of her throat drew his gaze and he smiled. “So I did put my mark on you. I suppose I should say I’m sorry.”

“You might be sorry if you knew how difficult it has been to conceal. You won’t give me any more like it, will you?”

“I can’t make any promises,” he whispered hoarsely.

Then he looked at her shrewdly and asked, “You aren’t frightened, are you, love?”

“No—at least I don’t think so.”

“Then let me see all of you,” he persuaded gently. She let him come to her again, and he began removing the rest of her clothing until she was naked. His eyes explored her slowly, hungrily, and then he pulled her close to him and fastened his mouth on her breasts. His tongue, his teeth, his lips all came into play, making her gasp and cry out again and again. She wrapped her arms around his head, holding him to her. Her head fell back as he began kissing her belly. Good God, she couldn’t take much more…

“Shouldn’t you… Nicholas… your clothes, Nicholas,” she finally managed.

In seconds he was bare-chested, and Reggie’s eyes widened, so amazed was she at what his clothes had concealed. She had known his chest would be broad, but now it seemed so huge. He was darkly tanned all over, the mat of hair on his chest golden brown.

She ran her fingers over his muscular upper arm. Her touch scorched him, making him groan.

“The rest now,” she pleaded softly, wanting to see all of him, as he had seen all of her.

She moved away and sat down to watch as he undressed. She didn’t feel at all awkward, naked though she was. She feasted her gaze on him, a man in all his glory.

When he was finally naked, she went to him and touched him, first his narrow hip, then his long, thick thigh. He grasped her hand, stopping her.

“Don’t, love.” His voice was harsh with passion. “I am near to exploding now, yet I must go slowly.”

Then she saw what was near to exploding. Unbelievable. Beautiful. Extraordinary.

Slowly she raised her eyes to his. “How am I to learn what pleases you if I can’t touch you?”

He cupped her face between his hands. “Later, love. This time it will please me to please you. But I must hurt you first.”

“I know,” she said softly, shyly. “Aunt Charlotte told me.”

“But if you trust me, Regina—if you relax and trust me—I will prepare you. There will be only a little pain, and I promise you will enjoy what comes after.”

“I have enjoyed what comes before.” She smiled up at him.

“Oh, sweet love, so have I.”

He kissed her again, his tongue parting her lips to plunge inside. He was on the very edge of losing control. Her eagerness inflamed him, made him fight for precious time. He caressed her belly, then drifted lower to her parted thighs.

She moaned as he touched the warm essence of her. And then she jerked in surprise when he thrust a finger deep inside her. Her back arched, breasts pressing against his chest. She tore her lips away from his.

“I am… prepared, Nicholas, I swear I am.”

“Not yet, love,” he cautioned.

“Please, Nicholas,” she gasped.

That undid him. He glanced down at the narrow bench in frustration. He refused to take her maidenhead on the floor, but—damnation, he should never have brought her to this place, not for her first time.

“Nicholas!” she beseeched him passionately.

He positioned himself and then leaned into her as gently as he could. He heard her gasp as her warmth closed around him. She surged forward until her maidenhead was reached. The pressure stopped her, but in their position, he could not breech her quickly enough to minimize the pain.

There was no help for it. He closed his mouth over hers to receive her cry and then, without warning, he lifted her up and pulled her down hard onto him. He held her like that, impaled.

It took only moments before her nails eased out of his shoulders and she sighed with pleasure again, relaxing against him.

“Nicholas?”

His name had never sounded sweeter. He smiled with relief and answered her without words, clasping her buttocks to lift her, then letting her slide back onto him slowly.

She quickly increased the tempo, clinging to him tightly. A thousand fires were ignited in her, joining into one flame that soon could not be contained. It washed through her, drowning her in sweetest fire.

Nicholas could not remember ever being so sated, or feeling such tenderness after making love. He wanted to hold Regina forever and never let her go.

“Was that… normal?” she asked dreamily.

He laughed. “After what we just experienced, you want mere normalcy?”

“No, I suppose not.” She lifted her head from his chest, sighing, “I suppose we must go back to the house.”

“Oh, bloody hell,” he growled. “I suppose we must.”

She gazed at him, love and longing lighting her beautiful face. “Nicholas?”

“Yes, love?”

“You don’t think they’ll guess, do you?” The truth was, she didn’t care if they did, but she believed she should ask.

Nicholas grinned at her. “No one would dare suggest we had made love out of doors. It isn’t done, love.”

Between dressing, teasing, and stealing kisses, it was another twenty minutes before they were on their way walking around the pond toward the house. Nicholas’ arm was draped over her shoulder, holding her close, when Amy rushed out at them from behind a wall of shrubbery.

“Oh, Reggie, I’m so glad it’s you!” she called breathlessly.

“Have I been missed?” Reggie asked, preparing herself for an ordeal.

“Missed? I don’t know. I’ve been out… walking, you see, and I didn’t realize so much time—” Amy started to cough, a bad acting job, as the shrubbery behind her began to rustle. “Marshall will be so angry,” she said. “Would you mind terribly if I told him I’d been with you?”

Reggie managed to suppress her grin. “Of course not, if you promise not to let the—time— get away from you again. Nicholas?”

“Not at all,” he agreed. “I know how easy it is to lose track of time myself.”

All three of them managed to keep straight faces as they hurried back to the house.