Em, too, was an acquired taste. One he could possibly become addicted to. One he was more than willing to over-imbibe, but also one he’d cradle.
Inhale.
Savor.
In an absent-minded manner, Marcus went in search of the object of his frustrations. That was the problem with a craving. It tended to overtake logical thought.
“Crandall.” Marcus would put an end to his valet’s vacation. He swept into the room he’d been provided when he first arrived, only to find it empty.
A liveried manservant addressed him from the foyer. “Your man has moved your belongings to a larger suite, my lord,” he volunteered cheerfully. “Only four doors down.” He gestured to his left and bowed.
“What the…?” Ah. The duchess had been so kind as to put him into a suite with his wife.
As much of him bristled at this as appreciated the convenience of having Emily in the same suite as himself.
The decision had been a presumptuous one, though, made by another managing female. What if he was one of those men who preferred to sleep alone?
He nearly snorted at the thought. Of course, he wanted Emily in his bed.
And yet, he’d not truly come to terms with the loss of his independence.
Marcus traversed the carpeted corridor and then turned the knob. He refused to knock on his own door.
She didn’t hear him at first. She appeared thoughtful, wringing her hands as she stared out the window.
Likely she was worrying over some new tome she’d been reading. He’d steered clear of bluestockings in the past. She might have ruined him for empty-headed chits forever now.
Possibly, she’d ruined him regardless.
His chest tightened. Marcus hadn’t prepared himself for the emotions this minx evoked. He raised one hand to his chin and contemplated her. What might be the ramifications of making her a permanent fixture in his life?
Not only legally, but in reality…
She must have sensed his movement, for she snapped her head to look at him. She winced at first, as though he’d caught her doing something wrong.
“Marcus. I didn’t hear you enter.” Her eyes blinked behind those spectacles of hers before flashing between him and the bed. The slow pink flush traveling up her neck sent an all too familiar heat shooting to his groin.
He knew she wouldn’t be anxious at the notion of sharing a bed.
This, though.
Sharing a suite. The mingling of one another’s belongings. This lent itself to an even greater intimacy.
Odd that.
He allowed the door to close behind him and stepped across the room with an itching in his fingertips.
He hadn’t touched her since they’d climbed out of the carriage this morning.
He hadn’t kissed her since those last moments in their room at the inn.
He hadn’t beeninside of hersince the early hours of the morning.
“I’ve another experiment I’d like to undertake with you.” He spoke matter-of-factly but could not prevent the growling sound that caught in his throat.
His words chased the worry from her eyes. They darkened, and she licked her lips.
“An experiment?” Again, her eyes flashed toward the bed.
