back.”
“My Lord,” the vicar again interrupted. “I need your answer. Do you take Miss Tess Stanhope as your wife?”
Aiden winked at her again, and Tess gritted her teeth. “I do,” he said.
Still, fury bubbled deep. “You, you had no right.”
“Of course I did. Think of it as tit for tat. You know one secret about me, and I decided to keep a tiny secret from you.”
“Tiny! You’re a peer of the realm.”
“I am.”
“But you’re also a high…”
“Hush.” Aiden claimed her mouth, silencing her in an instant. His lips were warm, gentle at first, and then he took her with a passion reminiscent of their first kiss.
In the background, she vaguely heard a titter of laughter from Tulip accompanied by a snort of disgust from Luther.
Wrapped in Aiden’s arms, he cupped the base of her skull with one hand, the other resting in the small of her back. His fingers were splayed, the pressure exquisite.
Her breathing stilled. Breathing? So unnecessary.
Feelings—so many—so exciting, strange, and dangerous, charged through her body, directly to her heart. She had wondered if it had been a figment of her imagination—this wonderful tension that blossomed when he kissed her.
Imagination had nothing on this. This kiss proved how real it was.
But with a breathless sigh she at last pushed away. This was so wrong. She needed to forget such feelings, for they could not be part of this marriage. She had to remember she was marrying a rogue and that she wasn’t going to be staying.
Surely it would be easier once they reached his home. He would be undertaking his next robbery and she had simply to bide her time for the right moment to leave.
A few minutes later and the marriage ceremony was over.
“Congratulations, you are now husband and wife.”
Aiden leaned toward her, whispering, “See, that was easy.”
“Yes, my lord, whatever you say, my lord.”
He shot her a teasing smile. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“That depends on what you’re talking about. But then, this is all for show, and this show , my lord,” she stated baldly, “is just about over.”
His response was a rumble of deep throaty laughter, a husky tone that threatened to seep beneath her defenses.
Tess clamped her teeth together, holding herself rigid. She must resist temptation.
“Congratulations.” Aiden’s friend came alongside them. “Let me introduce myself, since your husband has been a tad remiss in that department. Carson Humphries, the Earl of Beswick,” he said with a short bow. He took her hand and kissed it.
“That’s my wife you’re kissing, Beswick.” Aiden slapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. His tone held a distinct cut to it though his expression remained humorous. “I think kissing my wife is my prerogative, hmm.” He took her hand from Lord Beswick’s and linked his fingers with hers. “Some cake, my sweet wife? Marriage makes a man hungry.” He drew her toward the table bulging with food.
Tulip had arranged the wedding breakfast, though it was really a light afternoon tea. There was far too much, though one look at her uncle already hunkered down in the corner, port in one hand, an overloaded plate in the other, and Tess was quite sure Luther would manage to eat a good portion of it.
“I’d rather starve.”
As he reached for a slice of the vanilla cake, Aiden’s brows shot up. “Is this a moment when ‘be careful what you wish for’ could be appropriate, sweet wife?”
A scalding heat stole across her cheeks. She gritted her teeth. “Stop calling me that.”
“Wife, or…yes, perhaps you are right. Sweet would not be a word to address you with at this moment, considering your mood.”
“And…and please do not kiss me again,” she said, fueling her determination. She tilted her chin up, defiance cresting. “You are simply the man I married.”
“While you are my wife, who responds to my kisses.”
“I do not.”
“Really?” The light in his eyes
“My Lord,” the vicar again interrupted. “I need your answer. Do you take Miss Tess Stanhope as your wife?”
Aiden winked at her again, and Tess gritted her teeth. “I do,” he said.
Still, fury bubbled deep. “You, you had no right.”
“Of course I did. Think of it as tit for tat. You know one secret about me, and I decided to keep a tiny secret from you.”
“Tiny! You’re a peer of the realm.”
“I am.”
“But you’re also a high…”
“Hush.” Aiden claimed her mouth, silencing her in an instant. His lips were warm, gentle at first, and then he took her with a passion reminiscent of their first kiss.
In the background, she vaguely heard a titter of laughter from Tulip accompanied by a snort of disgust from Luther.
Wrapped in Aiden’s arms, he cupped the base of her skull with one hand, the other resting in the small of her back. His fingers were splayed, the pressure exquisite.
Her breathing stilled. Breathing? So unnecessary.
Feelings—so many—so exciting, strange, and dangerous, charged through her body, directly to her heart. She had wondered if it had been a figment of her imagination—this wonderful tension that blossomed when he kissed her.
Imagination had nothing on this. This kiss proved how real it was.
But with a breathless sigh she at last pushed away. This was so wrong. She needed to forget such feelings, for they could not be part of this marriage. She had to remember she was marrying a rogue and that she wasn’t going to be staying.
Surely it would be easier once they reached his home. He would be undertaking his next robbery and she had simply to bide her time for the right moment to leave.
A few minutes later and the marriage ceremony was over.
“Congratulations, you are now husband and wife.”
Aiden leaned toward her, whispering, “See, that was easy.”
“Yes, my lord, whatever you say, my lord.”
He shot her a teasing smile. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“That depends on what you’re talking about. But then, this is all for show, and this show , my lord,” she stated baldly, “is just about over.”
His response was a rumble of deep throaty laughter, a husky tone that threatened to seep beneath her defenses.
Tess clamped her teeth together, holding herself rigid. She must resist temptation.
“Congratulations.” Aiden’s friend came alongside them. “Let me introduce myself, since your husband has been a tad remiss in that department. Carson Humphries, the Earl of Beswick,” he said with a short bow. He took her hand and kissed it.
“That’s my wife you’re kissing, Beswick.” Aiden slapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. His tone held a distinct cut to it though his expression remained humorous. “I think kissing my wife is my prerogative, hmm.” He took her hand from Lord Beswick’s and linked his fingers with hers. “Some cake, my sweet wife? Marriage makes a man hungry.” He drew her toward the table bulging with food.
Tulip had arranged the wedding breakfast, though it was really a light afternoon tea. There was far too much, though one look at her uncle already hunkered down in the corner, port in one hand, an overloaded plate in the other, and Tess was quite sure Luther would manage to eat a good portion of it.
“I’d rather starve.”
As he reached for a slice of the vanilla cake, Aiden’s brows shot up. “Is this a moment when ‘be careful what you wish for’ could be appropriate, sweet wife?”
A scalding heat stole across her cheeks. She gritted her teeth. “Stop calling me that.”
“Wife, or…yes, perhaps you are right. Sweet would not be a word to address you with at this moment, considering your mood.”
“And…and please do not kiss me again,” she said, fueling her determination. She tilted her chin up, defiance cresting. “You are simply the man I married.”
“While you are my wife, who responds to my kisses.”
“I do not.”
“Really?” The light in his eyes
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