He dragged a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back only for the ends to cling rebelliously to his temples, droplets tracing a slow, distracting path down the curve of his neck.
“Plus,” she added, “we should probably discuss expectations while we’re at it.”
That earned her another raised brow. “Which do you want to discuss first?”
She didn’t have to think, but she did retreat a few steps. “Plans.” That was the most pressing and would keep her mind from wandering to places it had no right to wander. “As for mine, Annabelle will leak it to the gossip rags that I’ve wed to smother any rumors and start new ones in that direction.”
“Smart.”
“What about you? I gather that I’ll have tons of callers as a result.” They could all rot in perdition though. One only had to go through a rough patch to see who one’s true friends were. “However, I don’t much care for that. And I’m sure you’d rather stay out of sight. I’ll have the household say we’re enjoying our honeymoon.”
He nodded. “Where do you wish to stay until my affairs with my uncle are settled? Here, or do you wish to go home?”
“Let’s remain here. If news of my sudden wedding spreads and your uncle learns of your return, he might correctly assume that we’ve honored the arrangements of our parents.”
His eyes narrowed on her a second, staring, before nodding. “Smart. I hadn’t thought of that.”
He sounded so surprised, Alyssia almost rolled her eyes.
“I’ll pay a visit to my uncle in the morning.”
Now that surprisedher. “Do you think that is wise revealing your presence to him so boldly?”
“It’s only a matter of time before he discovers the truth. I’d prefer to shove it down his throat.”
Well, it was his choice.
“No doubt my uncle will call on his cutthroats,” he added. “It’s better to get rid of the entire nest.”
Ah. A moment of silence followed before her gaze dropped to his chest. “Those scars... are they from that time?”
“My parents’ accident?” He rubbed a hand over the most prominent one. “Yes.” He grinned at her. “Why? Do you feel sorry for me? If you kiss them, they won’t hurt anymore.”
Urgh. “You’re impossible.”
“Frequently,” he said, chuckling.
“Absurd,” Alyssia muttered.
Another low chuckle. “Shall we make a set of rules?”
“We aren’t children anymore,” she countered. He’d always done that for everything when they were younger. “There is only one rule. This marriage shall never be more than convenience.”
“Noted.”
He didn’t sound very convinced. “What about you? Do you have any expectations?”
“Only to be scolded by you,” he said easily.
Curious about something, Alyssia asked, “Why didn’t you return sooner? I imagine you could have ended this matter years ago.”
“Time has a way of creating the sort of distance that makes one master the art of self-justification.”
Those dark eyes bore into her.Touchedher in a way only he ever could. No.No. This was exactly what could not happen. Granted, they were married now. That, however, made any future mishap worse. They were bound. Connected. Drawing a clear line and honoring that line would be for the best.
The safest.
Bishop fought tokeep his mind focused while his body entertained a different idea—hardening. If this continued, his brain would soften soon. Damn it. He’d asked for a bathtub filled with cold water. What they’d given him was one as hot as the image of Alyssia naked with him in it pumping through his blood.
