“Ye dinna have to tell me anything until ye are ready to do so.”
She sighed in relief, a weight seemed to lift off her shoulders and she gave him a smile that brightened her eyes. “Ye are a good man, Finlay Primrose. I dinna believe I have e’er met another man like ye.”
A stab of guilt pierced his gut. Just as much as she was holding back, so was he. He hadn’t yet told her the real reason why he needed to marry. Aye, it was so he didn’t have to deal with all the meddling mothers, but if it weren’t for that damned clause in his father’s will, he wouldn’t have been at the garden party looking for a wife in the first place.
But the more time they spent together, the deeper he fell. And the clause slipped further and further from his mind. Because it wasn’t the reason why he was getting married anymore.
Nay, it was the beautiful woman sitting next to him. The woman that consumed every hour, every minute, every second of his days.
He would tell her—when the time was right.
The urge to kiss her was strong. He wanted to capture her mouth in a kiss and never let her go.
“Ye flatter me, Mina.”
She let out a yawn, her cheeks flushing.
“I fear I have tired ye out, my lady.”
She chuckled. “Nay, no’ at all, my lord,” she teased, knowing he hated when she called him formally.
He supposed he deserved it, since he had just done the same to her.
“’Tis been a long day. The preparations have been time consuming. I am thankful for Clarissa’s and Gwen’s help. For certain I would no’ have been able to plan e’erything without them.”
“I am glad they have been of assistance. ’Tis no’ long now. We just have to get through tomorrow.”
“Fin?” She asked quietly, wringing her hands together.
“Aye?” He turned to her as best he could in the cramped space of the carriage.
“Are ye certain ye want to do this? I understand if ye dinna.”
“Mina. I have ne’er been more certain of anything in my life.”
“I hate lying to e’eryone. What will they say when they find out the truth.”
“They willna.”
“It canna last forever,” she whispered.
“Why no’?” He took her hands in his, pulling her closer. “People have married for much less reason than what we are, and they have grown to love each other.” He felt like he was grasping at limbs, trying to prevent himself from falling.
“Ye deserve to be happy.”
He pulled her ever closer and he heard her hitch of breath.
“Ye make me happy.”
“But I canna give ye what ye want.”
Their faces were mere inches apart, he could feel her breath fan his face, and his cock jumped to life. “Kiss me.”
He let the words hang in the air. It was not said as a demand, but a request. Minutes seemed to pass as she wrestled with whatever was going on in her mind. But he did not move away. Nor did he pull her closer.
Nay, if she wanted the kiss, she would be the one to accept it.
*
