Read Online More than Passion by Jomarie Degioia - Free Book Online

did you …?”
    He crossed his arms over his chest. “I have my ways.”
    She stared at him, her brow furrowed. He finally took pity on her.
    “I had a bit of help,” he explained. “Emmy appropriated one of your dresses and a pair of your shoes. My driver took them to London and found these for you. I hope they are to your liking.”
    “Oh, yes!” She came into his arms. “I love them. Thank you!”
    He set her from him and gestured toward the chair near the window. On it sat a large box.
    “And in that box you will find petticoats and undergarments. I daresay my driver must have been in quite a state having to pick them out.”
    “This is too much.”
    “Not for my bride.” He turned her again to the wardrobe. “There’s more, love.”
    “More?”
    He nodded and pulled the other door wide open. There, filling the remaining space in the wardrobe, hung a creamy-white gown, trimmed with pearls, beads, and tiny satin bows. Matching slippers sat beneath it.
    She let out a happy squeal. He barely had time to open his arms before she was hugging him again. “It’s so beautiful!”
    “It’s your wedding gown, love,” he informed her. “I hope it will serve.”
    She bowed her head. “You’ve noticed how ill-suited my dresses are, then.”
    “I did.” He trailed his finger over the tight bodice of her day dress. “I daresay they don’t render you any less fetching.” He stroked her nipple through the muslin and she drew in a breath.
    “What are you up to now?” She sighed at his sensual touch.
    He walked to the door and shut it tight.
    “You shouldn’t be in my room with the door closed. It isn’t proper.” She couldn’t help smiling at the roguish look on his face.
    He pushed off the door, removed his coat, and tossed it on the chair near the window. “Ah, Becca. When I’m with you, being ‘proper’ is the last thing on my mind.”
    He stopped in front of her, bringing his hands up to caress her shoulders. She stared up at him, her eyes dark, and he brushed her lips with his.
    He pulled back and regarded her closely. “No,” he went on. “I don’t want to be ‘proper’ at all.”
    “Really?” She breathed.
    He began unbuttoning his shirt. “Really …. And, Becca?”
    “Yes?”
    “Neither do you.”
    She went to him and proceeded to prove him right.
     

Chapter 8
    “Rebecca,” Mary said breathlessly. “You look like a princess.”
    Becca regarded herself in the mirror. The dress Geoffrey gave her was the prettiest thing she’d ever beheld and in it she truly felt like a bride. Geoffrey’s bride. Her nerves, in a tangle since waking this morning, settled as she took a deep breath.
    “I hardly recognize myself,” she agreed.
    A knock sounded at her door.
    “Yes?” Becca called.
    “Girl,” Thomas boomed, “are you ready?”
    “Yes, Father.” She crossed to the door and pulled it open.
    Thomas stood there, his mouth agape. “Rebecca,” he said, using her name for the first time in years. “You look beautiful. Just like your mother.”
    Becca didn’t know what to say to that. Moved by his words and the strange yet tender expression on his face, she stood on tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”
    Thomas cleared his throat and took a halting step back. “Well, let’s get going. Kane isn’t going to wait forever.”
    He crooked his arm, Becca placed her hand on his elbow, and he led her to the top of the stairs. They descended slowly, coming to a stop at the entrance to the elegant little parlor.
    Geoffrey was standing there, so dashing in his black formal wear and white cravat. Her father led her to Geoffrey’s side and put her hand in his. He left her to stand beside Peter Jenkins. He and Emmy were the only guests present for the ceremony, but well-wishers would come afterward to join them for the celebration to be held in the inn’s dining room.
    Geoffrey bent his head to Becca’s. “You look incredible, love,” he whispered.
    She drank