Page 92 of Theirs to Tempt: The Marriage Claim

Piper hugs me again and whispers that she will call tomorrow, then immediately corrects herself and says maybe the day after tomorrow, her gaze sliding meaningfully toward my husbands.

I refuse to blush. Mostly.

Eventually I notice Lucian check his watch. Caleb catches the movement. One look passes between them.

My stomach drops. I know that look now. They’ve made a decision.

Caleb turns toward me. “We’re ready.”

I frown a little.

“To take you home.”

My frown deepens into a scowl. We haven’t even cut the cake.

Lucian takes the champagne flute from my fingers and places it on a passing tray. “Mrs. Henderson will manage without us.”

“You were gracious to our guests. You stood beside us.” His midnight-blue eyes hold mine. “And you have one more duty, and that’s to us.”

My pulse skips.

“We’ve waited long enough, Sophie.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sophie

Lucian sweeps me off my feet and into his arms with dizzying, unexpected speed.

“Lucian!”

“It’s a husband’s duty to carry his wife across the threshold of their home on their wedding night.”

Caleb closes and secures the door behind us, locking us all in together.

In the living room, near the vast windows, Lucian sets me on my feet, steadying me until I regain my balance. Which I’m not sure I ever will.

“Ours.”

My knees weaken. I’m so nervous I can’t think.

Lucian moves in closer to pluck the pins from my hair. There’s something unexpectedly intimate about the care he takes as he removes my veil. When the last pin comes free, he catches it before it falls. For a moment, he simply holds it. Then he folds the delicate fabric over the back of a chair.

I don’t know why that affects me. Maybe because I half expected him to treat it like something unimportant. Instead, he takes great care with it.

Caleb reaches toward my necklace, then pauses.

“May I?”

My throat tightens, but I nod.

He moves behind me, his fingers brushing my nape as he opens the clasp. The sapphire settles into his palm. Carefully, he places it on the table.

Then both men turn back to me. And wait.

The silence stretches. My nerves begin to fray beneath it.

“Well?”