away from him, carefully placing the candle back on her night table. “You should go. We can bicker in the morning.”
“I am not going anywhere.”
“Well, you’re not coming up and sleeping in this bed, sir. I barely know you. You might be my husband, but that doesn’t mean you, you can share my bed.”
“We should consummate the marriage.”
“No, we should not. There only has to be the ability to consummate and I shan’t have you sharing my bed when I barely know who you are, Lord Northam.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be?”
“Aye,” she said.
“You are a stubborn little chit. I don’t think you know just how alike you and Mallory are. The two of you are like two peas in a pod.”
“Whatever you say,” she said softly. She huddled down further into the bed, trying desperately to pretend that their rather close proximity wasn’t driving her mad. She wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped in his embrace. To have him claim her as his wife, to have him love her that way. She wanted to hurt him by keeping what he wanted away from her. Did he truly desire her?
“Why did you marry me?” she asked bluntly.
“I owed your brother a debt.”
“How noble of you.”
He bowed to her. “I am happy to please you.”
“I don’t think that really pleases me. It might please Mallory but I am not so easily placated. Do you think a woman likes to hear that the only reason a man married her was to repay a debt?”
“You don’t?” he asked, sounding a little wounded. “I thought it would play to your romantic nature.”
“Maybe I don’t have a romantic nature,” she shot back.
“Maybe you don’t,” he said sadly, sinking into a large chair. “What do you want me to do?”
The question hung in the air. She wanted him to join her. She wanted him to ravish her and love her madly and deeply. His love was all that she had wanted since she first set eyes on him. But love had burned her before. She couldn’t put herself at risk, no matter how much she wanted Archie to pay for the part he played in making her his wife.
“I want you to go,” she said softly, her words sounding foreign to her as if another woman spoke them.
“You do?” he looked up in surprise. He had read her right. She was attracted to him. Her desires didn’t matter. Her heart mattered, and she would protect it at any cost.
“I do.”
“Not surprising,” he said affably. “After all, we do have to set out early to Brighton. We can have our wedding night once we reach my townhouse there.”
“Your townhouse?” she asked weakly.
“Did you think you married a pauper?”
“I did, actually.”
The grin he gave her was genuine and tugged on her heartstrings. “All right then, I shall shatter your hopes. You married a nobleman with fairly deep coffers.”
“You…we won’t be staying at my brother’s mansion in town?”
“We won’t.”
“And...” she swallowed thickly. “Will we be all alone in your townhouse?”
“We will.”
“And…when you married me…did you want a pretend wife…or a real one?”
“Are you…are you jesting?”
“Why would I be?” she asked, a bit wounded.
“What sort of man marries a woman that he doesn’t want to…to…” Now his cheeks were flaming red.
“That he doesn’t want to bed?” she provided for him.
“Aye,” he said weakly, looking relieved that she had sorted that out for him. He looked a little strained. Was he having a hard time controlling his own desires? Jolly good.
“You would be surprised, Lord Northam.”
“I would be?” he asked.
“You would be.”
“At any rate, Lady Northam, I do not want a wife in name only. I want a wife to share my bed, I want a wife to love. I want to own every part of her…her heart, her soul…” And at this part, he gave her a look that nearly scorched her. “Her body.”
“You shall have a long time to wait,” she whispered. “You may take your leave now.”
“I may?” he asked,
“I am not going anywhere.”
“Well, you’re not coming up and sleeping in this bed, sir. I barely know you. You might be my husband, but that doesn’t mean you, you can share my bed.”
“We should consummate the marriage.”
“No, we should not. There only has to be the ability to consummate and I shan’t have you sharing my bed when I barely know who you are, Lord Northam.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be?”
“Aye,” she said.
“You are a stubborn little chit. I don’t think you know just how alike you and Mallory are. The two of you are like two peas in a pod.”
“Whatever you say,” she said softly. She huddled down further into the bed, trying desperately to pretend that their rather close proximity wasn’t driving her mad. She wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped in his embrace. To have him claim her as his wife, to have him love her that way. She wanted to hurt him by keeping what he wanted away from her. Did he truly desire her?
“Why did you marry me?” she asked bluntly.
“I owed your brother a debt.”
“How noble of you.”
He bowed to her. “I am happy to please you.”
“I don’t think that really pleases me. It might please Mallory but I am not so easily placated. Do you think a woman likes to hear that the only reason a man married her was to repay a debt?”
“You don’t?” he asked, sounding a little wounded. “I thought it would play to your romantic nature.”
“Maybe I don’t have a romantic nature,” she shot back.
“Maybe you don’t,” he said sadly, sinking into a large chair. “What do you want me to do?”
The question hung in the air. She wanted him to join her. She wanted him to ravish her and love her madly and deeply. His love was all that she had wanted since she first set eyes on him. But love had burned her before. She couldn’t put herself at risk, no matter how much she wanted Archie to pay for the part he played in making her his wife.
“I want you to go,” she said softly, her words sounding foreign to her as if another woman spoke them.
“You do?” he looked up in surprise. He had read her right. She was attracted to him. Her desires didn’t matter. Her heart mattered, and she would protect it at any cost.
“I do.”
“Not surprising,” he said affably. “After all, we do have to set out early to Brighton. We can have our wedding night once we reach my townhouse there.”
“Your townhouse?” she asked weakly.
“Did you think you married a pauper?”
“I did, actually.”
The grin he gave her was genuine and tugged on her heartstrings. “All right then, I shall shatter your hopes. You married a nobleman with fairly deep coffers.”
“You…we won’t be staying at my brother’s mansion in town?”
“We won’t.”
“And...” she swallowed thickly. “Will we be all alone in your townhouse?”
“We will.”
“And…when you married me…did you want a pretend wife…or a real one?”
“Are you…are you jesting?”
“Why would I be?” she asked, a bit wounded.
“What sort of man marries a woman that he doesn’t want to…to…” Now his cheeks were flaming red.
“That he doesn’t want to bed?” she provided for him.
“Aye,” he said weakly, looking relieved that she had sorted that out for him. He looked a little strained. Was he having a hard time controlling his own desires? Jolly good.
“You would be surprised, Lord Northam.”
“I would be?” he asked.
“You would be.”
“At any rate, Lady Northam, I do not want a wife in name only. I want a wife to share my bed, I want a wife to love. I want to own every part of her…her heart, her soul…” And at this part, he gave her a look that nearly scorched her. “Her body.”
“You shall have a long time to wait,” she whispered. “You may take your leave now.”
“I may?” he asked,
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