What the Groom Wants Read Online Free PDF

thing or something more.”
    “I’ll do what I can, Wind.” For her, he would do that much and more.
    “Thank you,” she breathed. She stopped their steps then. It took a moment to realize that they stood in an alley beside a back door.
    “Is this your shop?”
    She pointed to the door. “The workroom is right there.”
    They stood facing each other then. They were close. She was a small woman, almost tiny. But there was nothing small in her character or her bearing. So when he bent his head, it was as much a bow to her regal nature as it was as a man staking a claim to her lips.
    She didn’t expect it, which was nearly laughable. He had thought of her as his wife for so long, he’d forgotten that she knew nothing of his intentions. His gifts these last years had been given under her brother’s name. Tokens of affection from Henry to his sister, or so the packages claimed.
    So when he pressed his mouth to hers, she gasped in surprise. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and though she might not have invited his advances, he was too far gone to stop. He had to kiss her. He’d been waiting nearly ten years to do so.
    He took her lips, and before he could stop himself, he wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her close, plundering her mouth with his kiss, putting all his love and desire into it. In this way, he declared his intentions to marry the wind.

Three
    Wendy realized his intention early, but she could not believe it was possible. The boy prince from her childhood standing before her now as a man? And with desire in his eyes? Such a thing wasn’t possible, and yet he was touching her face, his calloused thumb a fiery stroke across her cheek. Then his mouth descended, and she was shocked enough to gasp, but not so shocked that she refused him.
    He was everything she’d ever wanted, and so she opened herself to him. And when his fingers trailed into her hair, she swayed toward him. Her hands pressed against his chest, and she felt the muscles underneath his clothing—banked power in a broad expanse. But most of all, she felt his mouth growing insistent, his tongue sweeping inside her lips, and the heat of him as he plundered her mouth.
    She was submissive at first, enthralled by the sensations he gave her. But she soon grew bolder, twisting her tongue with his, clutching his shirt beneath his coat. And the closer she got, the more their mouths fused, the less she thought about Damon or moving or even the sewing she had to do. Her thoughts fled into the rhythm of his kiss, into the grip of his arm around her waist. And into the sweet, wonderful scent that had nothing to do with London and everything to do with fresh air and clean water.
    Then he ended the kiss in a slow withdrawal that pained her. As his intensity lessened, her worries crowded back. Each second of his withdrawal added more to her burdens, and she whimpered at the weight. To be free for even a few moments made the return of her cares all the more burdensome.
    “Wind,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.
    She didn’t respond, except to clutch his shirt harder. She was not ready to return to her list of tasks, and he had just shown her the perfect escape.
    But he wrapped his hands around hers and stilled her frantic motions. “Wind,” he repeated, his voice growing clearer. “May I call on you tomorrow?”
    She blinked, confused by his formality. He wanted to call on her? Like a high-born gentleman to the likes of her? She nearly laughed. In her jumbled thoughts, she wanted something a great deal more carnal than a gentlemanly visit.
    She closed her eyes, trying to gather her wits. For all that she had little experience, her time in the hells had exposed her to a myriad intriguing words and ideas. Some of them burned in her memory and made her wonder. It was that curiosity that had her lifting her head to his.
    “Yes,” she said. Or she thought she had. Instead, the word sounded more like, “Why?”
    His lips curved into a