“A mistake?” he echoed.
Bridget nodded.
“Yes, I believe you made a lapse in judgment in trying to spare me from Victor. What you did was kind, I cannot deny that, but why marry me if you do not want me?”
“Wait a moment,” Adrian quickly replied, putting up a hand. “Ineversaid I did not want you, Bridget. You are making assumptions about our marriage before it has even had a chance to start. Does being married to me honestly seem so terrible to you?”
Bridget nibbled her bottom lip, growing more confused than ever. Marriage was supposed to be about duty. Or at least so she had been told.
“No,” she confessed. “But—”
“Are you attracted to me?” Adrian asked.
The bluntness of his question had Bridget’s cheeks flushing red, but he continued to give her that intense, questioning stare until she meekly confessed, “This has nothing to do with that… Everything happened so fast and for all the wrong reasons. It certainly does not mean we are in love.”
Something flickered in his eyes at that, not anger exactly, but pride touched raw.
“I did not say that we were,” he replied. “But do not pretend you feel nothing.” He closed the remaining distance between them, not touching her yet, but close enough that she could feel the heat of him. “I know how I make you feel, Bridget. I have known it since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”
Bridget did not answer; her mind, too jumbled by the rush of the latest events, could not truly process anything.
As if sensing her overwhelmed state, Adrian reached out and traced his fingertips over the top of her fingers. The small touch sent a spark through her hand, down into the knee her hand lay upon, and into her leg.
“From the moment I met you,” he whispered reverently. “I felt a spark between us. It was as if I had died inside before, but the sight of you had jolted me back to life.”
Upon hearing his words, Bridget felt a delicious shiver move up her body, which only amplified when he turned his gaze fromtheir hands to his eyes.
“You felt it too, did you not?”
Bridget licked her lips as she started to tremble, then ran her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Yes,” she whispered. “But this is merely what this marriage is about. Physical attraction. Convenience. We know why we had to marry, Adrian. I cannot pretend as if nothing happened and just be happy with you.”
“You do not need to pretend,” Adrian said, his voice lower now. “And you do not need to decide everything tonight.”
She laughed weakly. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It is not simple,” he countered. “But I will change your mind about this marriage.”
She scoffed. “You are unbearably full of yourself.”
“Perhaps,” he said, and then he kissed her.
The world narrowed instantly. The kiss was nothing like anything she had known—unhurried, certain, and devastatingly sure of itself. When he drew back, she was breathless and shaken, her hands clenched at her sides.
Adrian traced his fingertips from the back of her hand, up her arm, and to her neck. The small touch left a trail of fire, and she could not help but moan softly as Adrian caressed her cheek and pulled her forward. Her body felt warm and pliant as she leaned into his touch, letting him guide her into tipping her head back and deepening the kiss.
Bridget could not help the soft whimper that escaped her throat as his lips pressed into hers, sending her mind into blissfulsilence for the first time in ages. Adrian’s lips moved tenderly, coaxingly. He pressed so very softly against hers before pulling away for a breath, then reunited their lips again for a shorter kiss.
“I have never…” she stopped, unable to finish the sentence aloud.
I have never been kissed like this before.
“Then allow me,” Adrian said softly, his forehead resting briefly against hers, “to show you how our first night together could be wonderful.”
A new fear surfaced, sharp and unexpected. “And when you have?” she asked quietly. “What then? What if you tire of me once you have had me?”
His answer was immediate.
