Did he detect a note of disappointment in her voice?
He pulled the bedclothes over himself. “Are you going to sit there all night, princess, or are you going to get beneath the covers?”
“I will return to my chamber,” she said stiffly.
The bed shifted.
Did she truly think she could flee him that easily?
“You will not,” he clipped, reaching for her through the shadows.
Happily, his left hand met with her linen-covered breast. Her nipple was hard, prodding his palm.
She inhaled sharply. “You said you would not enforce your husbandly rights.”
But she remained where she was. Her protestations did not fool him. She was a passionate woman, and her body responded to his each time he touched her.
“And so I shall not.” He rubbed his thumb over her nipple. “But I must insist you remain here this evening.”
“Aunt Fanchette said husbands and wives do not share the same bed.”
Her persistence was maddening. Also, somehow, adorable.
Adorable again?
What the hell was she doing to him?
He rolled her beaded nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Callie?”
“Yes?” Her voice was hesitant.
“If you do not get under the bedclothes where you belong in the next five seconds, I am going to lift your virginal governess nightgown and spank your rump. Is that what you want?”
“You would not dare,” she breathed.
Oh yes he would, and he would enjoy it too. One spank, then a kiss to dull the sting. And then he would flip her to her back and sink inside her. Or, better yet, he would put a pillow beneath her and slide into her from behind.
Bloody hell.
There went his cock again.
“Tempt me,” he muttered.
“If you ever try such a thing, I will plant you a facer,” she warned.
It was his turn to bite his own lip now, to stifle an unexpected burst of laughter. He had no doubt she would try. And though she was a small scrap of silk, he was willing to wager she would manage to land a decent enough blow.
“Hmm,” he said on a yawn. The whisky he had consumed was beginning to take its toll upon him. Though he was itching to take her again, he was also exhausted, and his honor was not allowing him to indulge this evening.
His honor and his concern for her. What the devil ailed him?
“Attempt it and you shall see,” she warned.
But the bedclothes lifted, and then a rustling filled the silence, punctuating her pronouncement. She was settling in, his little wife. Sin realized a smile was curving his lips. Not one of victory, either. But contentment.
Helikedhaving her here with him.
Not that he would ever tell her as much.
