Free The Dukes' Christmas Abductions by Doris O'Connor, Raven McAllan

time as he made her fly. To tumble into the abyss with her, to shout his
completion and hear his voice mesh with hers just as their bodies did likewise.
    Victoria
shook and dimly in the recesses of his mind, Kit registered that telltale sign,
let his iron will fall, and his senses take over. His seed gathered and with a
roar he let it go to fill her.
    She
screamed and stiffened. Clutched his back so tightly he’d swear she drew blood,
arched up towards him, and shuddered her own release around him.
    It
was a long time before he found the energy to move.
    Eventually
Victoria sighed. “You’re squashing me.”
    Kit
opened one eye and gazed down at her flushed face. “Pity. You make the perfect
mattress.” She giggled and punched his shoulder.
    As a
blow it was about as effective as a butterfly landing on your hand. As a mean
of separating their bodies it worked perfectly. Her giggle combined with his
mock jump and ‘ouch’ meant his pego slipped out of her with a gentle plop.
    Kit
rolled to one side, pinched her nipples in turn, kissed her cheek, and nose,
and then let his lips linger on her mouth, before he rolled off the bed, stood
up and stretched.
    She
watched him closely and did something strange with her thumb. He titled his
head in question.
    ****
    “A
thumbs up. It means I like and appreciate what I see,” Vicky said. “Like a
Greek god.”
    He
blanched. “Our God forbid. They have miniscule pegos and over inflated egos
from what I can judge.”
    Hmm,
maybe not the best comparison. “Like everything I desire?” she suggested
instead. “All I ever want or need is you. My husband.”
    “Much
better, dear heart.” Kit bowed. “’Tis just as well. Now I’m about to play lady’s
maid as the servants have the night off to go to the ball. I’ll fill your bath
for you. The water should still be warm. Meanwhile,” he gestured toward the
elegant writing desk near one long window. “I noticed you’d filled your last
journal, so I thought you might like a new one.”
    Vicky
kicked off the tiny portion of sheet that still covered her feet and ankles and
scrambled off the bed and across the room, heedless of her naked state. It felt
so comfortable to be undressed she knew without a shadow of a doubt that when
they were together it was the norm. Also she understood that she unreservedly
accepted she was his. Whatever happened, she should be with him.
      The whys and wherefores she’d ponder over
later.
    As
she pulled out the velvet covered chair and sat down at the desk, Kit laughed.
“I’ll shout you when the bath is ready.”
    “What?
Oh yes, right thank you. Oh Kit.” She lifted the leather bound book up
reverently and stroked the soft hide cover. “This is beautiful. Perfect.”
      “My pleasure to please you, ma petite .”
He disappeared and she heard him whistle cheerfully over the sound of buckets
of water being poured into the overlarge and ornate bath she’d glimpsed earlier.
      Then water, whistling and men forgotten, Vicky
returned her attention to the book in her hands. Slowly she rested it on the
surface of the bureau, opened the cover and careful not to crease it, pushed it
back to leave the first page ready to write upon.
    With
an almost childish glee, she found her quill, dipped it into her inkpot and set
the sharpened quill end to the pristine page.
    Victoria…   Victoria who? Vicky realized she had
no idea what her title was now. She shrugged and added, Hopewell. Kit
could tell her otherwise after if need be.
    December
1815
    Dear
diary,
    Today
has been a day full of surprises, not the least to discover that… Vicky
lifted the quill, mindful she didn’t want blots on the vellum. How could she
explain all that had happened and not sound as if she needed committing to
Bedlam?
    She
sniggered to herself. She’d be long gone before anyone read it anyway, so what
did it matter? She bent to her task and continued to write until an itch on her
spine made her lift her head.
    Kit
sat in a