Lady Arabella's Scandalous Marriage by Carole Mortimer Page B

of their marriage was fast approaching, had made Arabella all the more aware of him as each second of the meal progressed, resulting in her doing little more than pick at the food placed before her. That Darius’s hooded blue eyes had settled on her often, and no doubt noted her lack of appetite, had only added to her increasing nervousness.
    Darius also now rose from the table. ‘I will join you shortly.’ He nodded coolly, the expression in those deep blue eyes unreadable.
    Arabella swallowed hard even as she eyed him shyly from beneath lowered lashes. ‘I…’ Her voice sounded reedy, and too high even to her own ears. Completelyunlike her usual forthright tone. She drew in a controlling breath. ‘I really am exceedingly tired, Darius.’
    ‘I do not see how you can possibly be tired when you slept most of the afternoon and early evening away,’ he pointed out as he moved away from the table.
    Irritation creased her brow as she raised her chin to look at him fully. ‘And how would you know how I spent my afternoon when you were engaged elsewhere?’
    Darius did not need the warning glitter in Arabella’s eyes to tell him that he had displeased her yet again. This time by the lack of the attention he had promised to her this afternoon. ‘I sincerely hope that you are not going to be one of those wives who expects to be told of her husband’s every move?’
    Angry colour entered the previous pallor of her cheeks. ‘Unless I am mistaken, Darius, I am not, as yet, a wife of any kind!’
    Now, with Arabella’s temper on the rise, was not the time to smile, Darius knew. But it was hard not to do so when she looked so put out, so disgruntled by the fact that he had not yet made her his wife in the fullest sense.
    He gave a mocking inclination of his head. ‘I assure you, Arabella, that I have every intention of remedying that omission as soon as we are alone together upstairs.’
    Her throat moved convulsively at she realised it was Darius’s intention to make love to her once they were in her bedchamber. More evidence, if Darius had needed it, of her youth and inexperience.
    He did not need it when he knew Arabella had been under the fierce protection of Hawk St Claire these past eleven years. Added to which, while Arabella’s ardourhad not been in doubt when Darius had kissed her the previous week, her inexperience had been evident to him.
    And in equal part arousing…
    Arabella’s eyes widened slightly as she watched Darius approach her with all the smooth and predatory elegance of a cat stalking its prey, and it took every effort of will on her part not to make herself look completely ridiculous by taking a step backwards. Especially when to have done so would have brought her up against the wall of the shabby parlour!
    Darius stood in front of her now, the lean and muscled length of his body only inches away from her own. The heat of his body and the tantalising smell of his cologne caused Arabella’s pulse to beat erratically, her heart to pound loudly, and her head to spin. She moistened stiff lips. ‘I would rather you waited until we are upstairs before any—any intimacies take place.’
    He raised blond brows. ‘Surely a kiss from one’s own wife cannot be classed as an intimacy ?’
    If it in any way resembled the way he had kissed her—and she had kissed him back—a week ago, then, yes, it most certainly could!
    Arabella shook her head. ‘I would rather wait, Darius.’
    His eyes glittered down at her with amusement. ‘And if I would rather not?’
    Her eyes narrowed. ‘I do not appreciate being played with in this odious way.’
    ‘No?’ He reached up to trail a finger down the creamy length of her throat, that finger lingering in the deep and sensitive well at its base. ‘That is a pity—when I so much enjoy playing with you!’
    Arabella found it difficult to breathe, and her skinburned where he touched it. ‘Stop it, Darius!’ She was becoming agitated by his easy arousal of her