Even now, her hand rested on his thigh.
Regardless, nothing was going to change the fact that they were indeed married. And due to his own lack of self-control, an annulment was impossible.
All he’d needed to do was refrain from consummating their marriage—and he’d failed… Miserably…
How had he not been able to ensure something so vital?
The question was answered when Tabetha’s wicked little hand moved from his thigh to his cock, which, of course, went from half-mast to full steam ahead in less than ten seconds.
With most of his blood leaving his brain, thoughts of London fled. He gently moved her hand away to show her he wasn’t so easily manipulated. All his life, he’d considered himself a self-disciplined gentleman. As a fighter, it would have been dangerous for him to have been anything else.
He’d done rather well up until this past week.
Catching sight of a meadow just ahead, Stone urged Poppy to pick up her pace and then steered them off the road and parked them under a tree.
Twenty minutes later, feeling considerably more relaxed, he led them onto the road once again, and this time, rather than fussing with her hair, she was fussing with his, brushing away a few pieces of grass and grinning mischievously when she extracted a leaf.
“Much better.” She was sitting sideways, inspecting him, and trusting his hand on her waist to catch her in case the vehicle lurched as it had a tendency to do.
“I won’t argue with that.” He squeezed her leg. Only he wasn’t referring to his hair.
She landed a soft kiss on his cheek before turning to face front again, arranging her skirts around the bench beside him. He didn’t mind that her skirts mingled with his trousers, nor that strands of her hair had a tendency to be lifted by the wind and catch in his beard.
“You never answered me earlier.” She linked her arm through his. “About what we are going to do once we arrive in London.”
Stone stroked his chin. “First off, I’ll need a shave.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Unless you prefer the beard.”
He’d discovered she was not averse to a little… friction.
“I like you both ways,” she answered quickly, rolling her eyes. “I mean after that.”
Ah, so she wasn’t going to let him off so easily this time.
“If we haven’t met up with your brother by then, we’ll meet with him and your mother.”
“And then?”
“We’ll tell my parents.”
“Do you think they’ll approve?”
“They’ll be thrilled.” His mother would be ecstatic.
“And where will we live?”
“Would you prefer the city or the country?”
She hugged his arm. “It doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with you.”
Would that be her answer if she knew the truth? “Tabetha…” He needed to tell her before digging himself into an even deeper hole. “You’ve wanted to be in London for as long as I’ve known you.”
It wasn’t much, but it was the truth.
“What if I was wrong?” she asked. “What if I changed my mind?”
“We won’t know that until your memory returns.” The perfect excuse presented itself. “I don’t want to make any decisions until then.” Because everything was going to change. A person didn’t throw off dreams they’d nurtured all their life that easily.
Even if he couldn’t provide her with a title, he had more than enough funds to provide a fashionable Mayfair townhouse for her to live in. He only hoped she allowed him to live there with her.
