“The way I see it, you give up, and I win. ” Isobel’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned into him.
He didn’t think she knew she was doing it, but he liked it regardless. Getting her to beg for him might not be a difficult task if she was already willing to be this close to him.
“And how do you think those two things are remotely the same?” He used the jacket to pull her a little closer, dipping his head until his lips ghosted over hers. “Does the thought of me running away give you the same thrill as my mouth on your body?”
Isobel’s gaze connected with his and all he could see in it was a fire burning bright. “More so.”
“You want me to run because you think it’s going to be easier than giving in to me.”
“I wouldn’t give in to you if you were the last man in the world.”
Andrew chuckled, flicking his tongue over her pulse before nipping at it lightly. “You’ll grow awfully bored if the only pleasure you receive is the kind you give yourself,” he said, his voice husky.
Isobel jerked back, her cheeks red. “I suspect I would find far more satisfaction in that than I ever would in you.”
He chuckled lightly, letting go of the coat and holding out his hand. “We have to go get married now, wife. We can debate whose fingers you enjoy more after you’ve begged to experience mine. However, you should give me the coat back before we go inside, otherwise thetonare going to have much to whisper about.”
“Do you suppose if we never consummate the marriage I could still run away and become a nun?” She slipped the coat off and handed it to him. “That would surely be a story thetonwould enjoy. Just think of the gossip paper headlines. The Duchess of Foxdrey left so unsatisfied in her marriage that she swears a life of celibacy.”
Andrew burst out laughing as he pulled his coat on, buttoning it and smoothing the fabric down, the citrus scent of her soap clinging to it. “You have quite the mouth on you, Duchess.”
He didn’t miss the way she shivered or the way her eyes lit up when he called her by her new name. She might be fighting theattraction she had for him with everything she had, but if that look in her eyes was right, she would give in to him.
Leaning in, his hand cupped the back of her neck, and he gently pulled her into him. Their gazes locked, mouths hovering only inches apart. “I look forward to seeing what else those full lips of yours are capable of.”
“Cad.”
“I love it when you say such things to me.” Andrew brushed his thumb over her pulse. It raced beneath his touch.
Isobel turned from him without another word, marching toward the church. The train of her dress bustled behind her. When she reached the gate to the garden, her sister appeared and helped her take down the bustle, spreading out the train as she climbed the steps.
Andrew followed behind her, not saying a word as he slipped into the church and went to take his place at the front of the room. He glanced around at the people gathered there, meeting Eleanor’s gaze. She nodded to him. He saw the way her lips pressed together like she was still displeased he found a wife without her, and he granted her a genial smile.
Soft music began to play as Isobel’s family filtered into the room. Lord Leyton and Joan found their seats in one of the front pews. Viscount Leyton looked like he could barely hold his head up, swaying from one side to the other. Joan leaned into him,whispering something. Lord Leyton’s face turned red, his beady eyes narrowing, but he sat up a little taller, staying in place.
Andrew let out a sigh. The worst part of marriage already seemed to be the connection he would have to Lord Leyton for the rest of his life.
The doors to the church opened and Isobel walked in, her hands clasped together in front of her. A long lace veil was draped over her head, the intricate design nearly masking the terror on her face. She looked like she was struggling to smile as she got closer to the altar.
People turned to whisper to each other as she passed them. Smiles were wide, but there was tension in the room that he was sure all of them could feel.
Isobel stopped in front of him, turning to him with a thin smile. “I feel as though I might faint.”
“And those are the most romantic words you could have possibly started our marriage off with,” Andrew said, his voice soft as he reached out and took her hands. “You will be fine.”
“I will not be.” Isobel looked up at him, the color draining from her face. “This marriage is a mistake. I’m marrying a man with a reputation for charming women into his bed and now I have to trust that you will remain loyal to me.”
“You may castrate me if not.” Andrew kept his words to a whisper, not wanting the rest of thetonto hear them talking. “And I am rather attached to my appendage—as you will be—so I have it on good faith that you needn’t doubt me.”
She cracked a small smile and shook her head. “Do you speak to all women like this?”
“Only the ones I intend on marrying.” He affectionately ran his thumb over her knuckles. “I know you may think this marriage awful, and I have never wanted a union like this for myself, but this is a situation to benefit us both. You need only repeat after the man in the peculiar robes, and it will all be over soon.”
Her laugh rang out, her head tipping back slightly. “You cannot refer to him as the man in the funny robes!” she whispered, amusement dancing in her eyes.
Charming Isobel might not be as easy as he first thought, but there was nothing he loved more than a challenge.
If he made the temptation a little more thrilling, he knew she would bend. He could already see admiration glowing in her eyes.
