to…adapt.”
“A
little distance will air our dirty linen, Amanda. My family will not
understand, and I don’t wish to try and make them. Moreover,
the servants will be devastated.”
“You
worry what the servants will think?”
“Let
me tell you something my father once told me. Happy servants make for
a happy household. We provide an example, good or bad, and they
behave accordingly. If the master and his lady are at odds, it will
be felt down to the scullery maid. And the dissension will come full
circle, that I guarantee.”
“What
are you suggesting?”
“Merely
that we go on as a newly married couple, pretend for the sake of
those around us until we can work through this thing.”
“Don’t
you think after the fracas we caused at the party—”
He
gave her an ironic look. “We?”
“All
right, I admit it,” she said, “the fracas I caused. But doesn’t it seem that your family may have guessed
that we had a falling out?”
“Guessing
is different from knowing.”
“True,
but—”
“And
even if they assumed we had a disagreement, they can also assume that
we have resolved our differences and are back to our blissful union.
How good are you at pretense?”
Amanda
did not miss the irony that touched his words again, but she ignored
him this time.
“James,
there is no privacy for either of us in only one room. How are we to
manage that?”
He
stared at her a long time, a strangely assessing stare, his eyes
narrowing, nostrils flaring. He was coming to a decision of some
kind, and she had the distinct impression she wasn’t going to
like it.
He
walked across the room, and Amanda found herself backing away from
him. His approach was relentless, but at some point her pride came to
her defense. She ceased her retreat and held her breath.
James
stopped, his face close to hers. He loomed over her, and she was
aware suddenly of how tall he was, how wide were his shoulders, the
magnetism he exuded out of those icy blue eyes. Amanda felt small and
delicate, which was a rare occurrence for her. She released her
breath on a quiver.
“You
know, wife,” he said silkily, “I find your reticence an
obstacle to any progress we might achieve.”
“I
feel reticent. I can’t help it.”
“Is
that so?”
“Y-yes.
Yes, it is”
“Then
you leave me no choice.”
There
was an odd sense of satisfaction in his words, his steely gaze
locking with hers, an almost wicked smile easing his mouth.
“I
don’t know what you mean, I’m sure.”
“Don’t
you?”
Amanda
stared at him mutely, waiting.
The
smile grew. “I think it’s time to test our little
bargain, my dear.”
“You
promised not to press me.”
“I
also said I would take it a day at a time, that I reserved the right
to change my mind. I’m informing you now that I have done so.”
His warm gaze dropped to her mouth, and the smile widened further.
“It’s
hardly been any time at all.”
He
shrugged.
Why,
he was enjoying himself! “I warn you, James, you won’t
find much satisfaction in bullying me.”
For
the first time his teasing attitude slipped, his eyes narrowing
again. “I hardly think you can call it bullying, Amanda. After
all, these are your terms.”
No
they’re not, she thought in desperation. Or were they? What had
they agreed to?
“No
hysterics, no reneging, remember?” he continued.
“And
no participation,” she spat.
“No
participation…on your part.” James slipped his hand into
her hair, cupping the back of her head. “I, on the other hand,
am not so burdened. I can participate to my heart’s content.”
“Oh—!”
Her
protest was cut off as his mouth descended on hers. It was not,
however, a harsh kiss, but a gentle, beguiling pressure that raised
the downy hairs all over her body. Her lips parted without her being
aware, until she felt the invasion of his tongue. Her mind willed her
to break the contact, but when she reached to push him away, she
realized she was clinging with both
“A
little distance will air our dirty linen, Amanda. My family will not
understand, and I don’t wish to try and make them. Moreover,
the servants will be devastated.”
“You
worry what the servants will think?”
“Let
me tell you something my father once told me. Happy servants make for
a happy household. We provide an example, good or bad, and they
behave accordingly. If the master and his lady are at odds, it will
be felt down to the scullery maid. And the dissension will come full
circle, that I guarantee.”
“What
are you suggesting?”
“Merely
that we go on as a newly married couple, pretend for the sake of
those around us until we can work through this thing.”
“Don’t
you think after the fracas we caused at the party—”
He
gave her an ironic look. “We?”
“All
right, I admit it,” she said, “the fracas I caused. But doesn’t it seem that your family may have guessed
that we had a falling out?”
“Guessing
is different from knowing.”
“True,
but—”
“And
even if they assumed we had a disagreement, they can also assume that
we have resolved our differences and are back to our blissful union.
How good are you at pretense?”
Amanda
did not miss the irony that touched his words again, but she ignored
him this time.
“James,
there is no privacy for either of us in only one room. How are we to
manage that?”
He
stared at her a long time, a strangely assessing stare, his eyes
narrowing, nostrils flaring. He was coming to a decision of some
kind, and she had the distinct impression she wasn’t going to
like it.
He
walked across the room, and Amanda found herself backing away from
him. His approach was relentless, but at some point her pride came to
her defense. She ceased her retreat and held her breath.
James
stopped, his face close to hers. He loomed over her, and she was
aware suddenly of how tall he was, how wide were his shoulders, the
magnetism he exuded out of those icy blue eyes. Amanda felt small and
delicate, which was a rare occurrence for her. She released her
breath on a quiver.
“You
know, wife,” he said silkily, “I find your reticence an
obstacle to any progress we might achieve.”
“I
feel reticent. I can’t help it.”
“Is
that so?”
“Y-yes.
Yes, it is”
“Then
you leave me no choice.”
There
was an odd sense of satisfaction in his words, his steely gaze
locking with hers, an almost wicked smile easing his mouth.
“I
don’t know what you mean, I’m sure.”
“Don’t
you?”
Amanda
stared at him mutely, waiting.
The
smile grew. “I think it’s time to test our little
bargain, my dear.”
“You
promised not to press me.”
“I
also said I would take it a day at a time, that I reserved the right
to change my mind. I’m informing you now that I have done so.”
His warm gaze dropped to her mouth, and the smile widened further.
“It’s
hardly been any time at all.”
He
shrugged.
Why,
he was enjoying himself! “I warn you, James, you won’t
find much satisfaction in bullying me.”
For
the first time his teasing attitude slipped, his eyes narrowing
again. “I hardly think you can call it bullying, Amanda. After
all, these are your terms.”
No
they’re not, she thought in desperation. Or were they? What had
they agreed to?
“No
hysterics, no reneging, remember?” he continued.
“And
no participation,” she spat.
“No
participation…on your part.” James slipped his hand into
her hair, cupping the back of her head. “I, on the other hand,
am not so burdened. I can participate to my heart’s content.”
“Oh—!”
Her
protest was cut off as his mouth descended on hers. It was not,
however, a harsh kiss, but a gentle, beguiling pressure that raised
the downy hairs all over her body. Her lips parted without her being
aware, until she felt the invasion of his tongue. Her mind willed her
to break the contact, but when she reached to push him away, she
realized she was clinging with both
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