Roaring filled Nia’s ears as Jasper led her through the taproom and up the stairs. The warmth of his hand burned at her back, and the vibrating energy between them heightened her senses.
By the time he’d locked the chamber door behind them, a combination of anticipation and nervousness commandeered her capacity for rational thought.
Jasper turned to face her, and then gathered her hands in his and raised them to his lips. “You look terrified.”
“I don’t know why… I’m not. Not really.” But tomorrow they would marry. She’d left her home. Without him, she was all alone in this world.
He tilted his head. “Nothing needs to happen. Not if you don’t want it to.” He moved one of his hands to her cheek, where he brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I believe I owe you a night of cuddling.”
“Cuddling?”
“Yes. To lie close to one another. To embrace, or hold affectionately.” He grinned.
And dear lord, there it was again. She couldn’t help but grin back at him. “I’d like that.” Because she didn’t want to be alone. The night before had been something of an anomaly. Like a storm that appeared out of nowhere. To have relations with him tonight would feel contrived—almost like a ritual.
Tomorrow night he would be her legal husband.
Tonight, they would cuddle.
He dropped his hands and flicked them along her laces. “I’ll help you with these, and then you can change into your nightrail behind the screen.”
Nia nodded and noted the appearance of a second valise near the door.
A valise that was not feminine in any way. A valise that belonged to a gentleman—to the man who was going to be her husband in less than twenty-four hours.
Without saying anything more, she turned around, and his fingers went to work unfastening her gown. It loosened, and he reached inside to untie her short stays.
Where his fingertips brushed her skin.
She shivered.
“You’re cold?” His breath warmed her nape.
She wasn’t. No, she burned for more of his touch. “Yes,” she answered. Because she’d agreed to a night of nothing more than cuddling. She didn’t want to be a tease or seem fickle.
He guided her to the privacy screen, where a maid had laid her nightrail over the top and set her toiletries beside the wash bin. “I’ll light the fire in the hearth.”
He wasn’t going to leave her tonight.
Feeling protected and safe as she listened to him moving around the other side of the room, she took her time washing up. And when she stepped back out, she found him already changed—wearing a silk banyan over a cream nightshirt.
True to his word, a fire blazed in the hearth, casting the room in a golden glow.
“This doesn’t seem real, does it?” she asked. Despite all the awkwardness of the situation, this was Jasper. This was the man who’d taken her to see dancing ladies, who’d won her prizes at the fair, and broken her fall when the trellis broke away from her father’s house.
He was… Jasper.
Standing on the opposite side of the bed, he pulled the covers down and then slid out of his robe.
“Come to bed, wife.” He smiled.
“You don’t look like any husband I ever imagined.” He looked too handsome—too sensual and tempting.
“Considering your previous two grooms, I’ll take that as a compliment,” he joked. But he was correct in doing so. And then he grew serious. “You look more beautiful than any bride I ever could have dreamt of.”
“Thank you, sir.” But the compliment turned her limbs to jelly and Nia had to force her feet to walk to the bed and pull down her side of the counterpane.
She would be playful. She would pretend his words hadn’t sent all kinds of feelings to expand her untested heart.
