One Night with Prince Charming (Aristocratic Grooms #2)(28)
Author: Anna DePalo

He leaned over her and caressed her body. “You’re so beautiful, you make me ache.”

Pia felt her heart squeeze.

“Are you using any protection?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No.”

He opened a nearby nightstand drawer and removed a packet.

“I don’t think I can be near you without being prepared,” he said with self-deprecation.

She gave a small smile. “S-sort of like leaving the house without your BlackBerry?”

He chuckled. “Sort of. But you make me lose my mind, whether I like it or not.”

He sheathed himself, and Pia reached her arms up to him.

She wanted him to lose control right now. The need to be joined to him was overwhelming. She wanted to experience falling over the edge again with him into paradise. It had been so long…

Hawk settled his weight on her. “Ah, Pia, let me in…”

He entered her, and they both closed their eyes, savoring the sweet sensation of their joining.

Hawk started to move, and a delicious friction began to build in Pia.

They kissed and moaned, and he bit down gently on the tender skin at the side of her throat, while she let her hands roam over his hard muscles, urging him onward.

Pia convulsed gently, once and then twice.

“That’s right,” Hawk muttered. “Come for me, Pia. Come again.”

He whispered sweet encouragement.

Pia felt herself tremble, her body on the cusp of deliverance. She tightened around Hawk, and her hands fell from his back to grasp the coverlet.

He was relentless in pursuit of her pleasure. “Pia,” he breathed in her ear. “Sweetheart, tell me.”

“H-Hawk, p-please, y-yes.”

The sound of how much he affected her was his undoing.

Hawk groaned and stilled just as her body began to shake. He spilled himself inside her, wondrously joining her powerful cl**ax with one of his own.

Pia cried out with her release, and Hawk clasped her to him, his skin hot and damp.

Their hearts racing, they came back down to earth—or some version of it.

This, she thought, was what dreams were made of.

Nine

In the normal course of things, lunch with Colin, Marquess of Easterbridge, and Sawyer Langsford, Earl of Melton, in the dining room of the historic Sherry-Netherland Hotel should have been a tame and relaxing affair.

Hawk knew better.

Lately, notoriety had come nipping at the heels of his trio of friends.

Colin looked up quizzically from his BlackBerry. “Well, Melton, it seems Mrs. Hollings has done it again.”

Sawyer nodded at a waiter who then proceeded to fill his wineglass, and took his time addressing Colin. “What, pray tell, has she deemed worthy of acid ink this time?”

“The topic is us…again,” Colin said, his tone bland. “Or, more exactly, the subject is Hawkshire.”

“How very fair of you, Melton,” Hawk commented dryly, “to include us in the Intelligencer’s gossip column.”

Sawyer’s lips quirked. “So what does our Mrs. Hollings have to say today?”

“Apparently Hawkshire has a second career as a wedding planner’s apprentice.”

Sawyer raised his eyebrows and swiveled his head to look at Hawk, his expression droll. “And you kept this tidbit from us? How could you?”

Damnation. Hawk knew he was in for a ribbing from his two friends. Still, it was worth mounting a defense, however feeble. “My sister is getting married.”

“‘We’ve heard,’” Colin said, quoting the text from his BlackBerry, “‘that a certain very wealthy duke has been keeping company with a lovely wedding planner. Could it be that wedding bells are in the air?’”

“Charming, our Mrs. Hollings,” Sawyer said.

“A veritable fount of useful information.”

Hawk remained steadfastly mum, refusing to add his two cents to his friends’ comments.

Sawyer frowned. “How is your mother these days, Hawk? The last time I had the opportunity to be in her charming company, she talked of finding you a bride. In fact, I believe one name in particular crossed her lips.”

“Michelene Ward-Fombley,” Hawk said succinctly.

Sawyer nodded. “Ah, yes, that sounds—” he paused to give Hawk a shrewd look “—exactly right… A suitable choice.”

Of course, Sawyer and Colin would have a passing acquaintance with Michelene, Hawk thought. She was from their aristocratic social circle. Her grandfather was a viscount, not someone from a small town in Pennsylvania…

He and Michelene had dated a few times, back when he was still trying to sort out what his role as the new duke should be. He’d gingerly tested the waters by stepping into William’s shoes with one of the leading candidates to be a future duchess. But then his work with Sunhill Investments had consumed him, and still grieving, he’d allowed himself to stop calling Michelene. It had been easy to do, since she hadn’t awakened any strong emotion in him. But then, in the past year, the idea of Michelene as the Duchess of Hawkshire had gained renewed life, thanks to his mother’s prodding.

“What game are you playing, Hawk?” Sawyer asked, going straight to the point.

Hawk kept his expression steady. Ever since Sawyer’s marriage of convenience to Tamara had turned into a real one, he’d been protective of her and her girlfriends, Pia and Belinda.

Pia.

Damn it, he was not going to discuss Pia with Melton or Easterbridge.

Yesterday had been the most passionate experience of his life—for the second time. Inexplicably, he felt a visceral connection to Pia. Maybe that explained why he’d never forgotten her…

She’d been a virgin, but if last night was anything to judge by, she’d learned a lot in the past three years.

He acknowledged as much with a punch to the gut. He’d been unprepared for the Pia of yesterday afternoon. She’d caught him by surprise—again. He’d intended to be the seducer, and instead had been seduced.

Yet…had he really intended to seduce her again? Despite all his noble intentions?

Certainly, by the time she’d entered his bedroom, his mind had turned toward kissing her and more. But the idea had been gaining steam well before then. Without a doubt, while she’d been giving him a tantalizing view of her luscious posterior all morning. And maybe even before then…when she’d been running across the grass toward him at the New York Botanical Garden, or when…

He wanted her. All he’d been able to think about for the past twenty-four hours was getting Pia in bed again. And now that they’d crossed the threshold to being lovers again, he admitted he also didn’t want to turn back. He wanted to remain lovers—unlike the first time three years ago—even if his relatively newfound principles were in jeopardy as a result!