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  “So eager for me, eh, wife?”

  He plunged into her without further hesitation and she cried out in surprise and delight as her body moulded readily to his. She’d wanted him to be more masterful and God knows, he was exceeding all her expectations tonight. When he was buried deep within her, he paused and leant forwards to whisper in her ear.

  “Haven’t you guessed it yet, my love?”

  She moaned wantonly, her head spinning, but some part of her mind was working through the events of the evening and she knew she was missing something. And then he spoke again, and all the pieces of the jigsaw finally fell into place.

  “I always told you I’d have you one day, Lady Sarah.”

  It was the familiar gruff northern tones of The Saint, and she began to tremble uncontrollably as he pounded into her hard and fast, his fingers digging into her flesh. The idea of being taken, possessed, by both men at one and the same time quickly pushed her over the edge and she shattered beneath him with a cry of ecstasy. Hips moving like a blur, he finally surrendered to his own release, exploding deep inside her with a groan of pure pleasure.

  Collapsing onto a bale of hay he took her along with him, her dress still bunched around her waist, and she nuzzled into his neck, basking in the afterglow. Gradually her heart rate slowed and the realisation of what had just happened slowly began to dawn on her. She sat back and he met her clear-eyed gaze with a certain amount of apprehension but she just smiled, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “I think somewhere deep inside I must have had my suspicions, but I kept doubting my instincts because the two of you were so different.”

  He stroked her cheek gently.

  “Opposite sides of the same coin, love. Sir Horace almost ruined my family and I found a way to get back at him while also doing some good in the world. I didn’t want you to guess before we were married, even though the chances were you would after we’d been … intimate.”

  She furrowed her brows at him.

  “You don’t sound remotely the same.”

  “My father was from the north, so I’ve never had a problem imitating the accent.”

  She cocked her head to one side.

  “And you even smell different.”

  “Not difficult. I wear a splash of cologne and The Saint doesn’t. I keep up the act even in front of the men, it would put them in grave danger if any of them guessed The Saint’s true identity. You’re the only one who knows my secret, and I trust you with my life.”

  He squeezed her hand, dropping a tender kiss against the knuckles, and she smiled affectionately at him.

  “I would never, ever betray you, Philip. You have my word on it.”

  “I know that, sweetheart. I’ve never doubted it.”

  She narrowed her eyes and stared at him, crossing her arms.

  “So why the ridiculous charade, then?”

  He had the decency to look suitably sheepish, scuffing a boot on the floor.

  “I needed to know you truly loved me and that you weren’t just marrying me to escape from Sir Horace’s clutches.”

  Her mouth dropped open in disbelief, and for a split second she was tempted to slap his face. Sensing her reaction, he closed his eyes and braced himself in readiness.

  “Go ahead. I thoroughly deserve it.”

  He looked so crestfallen she knew she had no choice but to forgive him. Eventually. After a few moments he opened one eye tentatively and squinted at her.

  “Not going to resort to violence, then?”

  Her mouth twitched with barely-contained amusement and he grinned at her ruefully.

  “It was stupid, I know. My only defence is that I love you so damned much and I couldn’t bear to think you might not feel the same way. Am I forgiven?”

  She pursed her lips, pretending to consider it.

  “Hmmm. Did I pass the test?”

  He pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling into her hair.

  “With flying colours. You told The Saint you loved me with all your heart and soul. After that, I’d have forgiven you even if you had let him seduce you.”

  She sat back again, mock-affronted.

  “I should think so too. Seeing as he turned out to be my husband!”

  He smirked, cupping her chin.

  “So I haven’t ruined things between us, then?”

  She placed her hand over his and shook her head.

  “No. I think I could forgive you just about anything, except perhaps another woman.”

  He held her gaze, his eyes alight with affection.

  “I’m yours for life, sweetheart. Provided you continue to allow me my conjugal rights, that is. Especially in the stables.”

  He flashed her the wicked grin that always reduced her stomach to liquid, and she slanted him a flirtatious look from under her lashes.

  “I find I quite like assignations in the stables. Although we must take care not to frighten the horses, they are quite highly strung.”

  He chuckled.

  “In that case it appears I may have to gag you in future, wife. Let’s go inside and scandalise the servants instead, shall we?”

  They stood and tidied themselves as far as possible before strolling back in the direction of the house hand in hand. He fell silent for a few moments, as though deep in thought.

  “Now you’ve had The Saint, you will still want me occasionally, won’t you?”

  She pulled him up short, wrapping her arms around his waist and gazing up into his face with a satisfied smile.

  “I must be the luckiest woman in the world: two incredibly desirable men rolled into one. Now take me to bed, will you? I want to remind my husband just how much I love him.”

  THE END

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8