Page 91 of Rules for a Wicked Wager

Mari hated waking. When she slept, she went deep and generally refused to get up until she was ready. But there was something special about rousing to the sound of Peter’s voice. To the gentle way he squeezed her shoulder and nibbled at her lips.

She opened her eyes on a smile, and she stretched her arms around him. Up this close, she could see his eyes crinkle as he returned her smile. How handsome he was! Then she ruined the moment with a jaw-cracking yawn. She slammed a hand to her mouth to cover it, but it was too late. He’d already seen it.

“Sorry,” she said behind her hand.

He grinned and pulled it away from her mouth. “Don’t ever hide from me. I want to see it all.”

She shuddered. “No man wants to see everything.”

“I do.” Then he pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose before pulling her upright. “But we cannot linger. Not unless you want everyone to know what we have done tonight.”

It was a testament to how far she’d fallen that part of her didn’t care. They were to be married. What difference did it make if things were done quicker than completely proper? But it was a very small part. She’d been reared to be a lady, and no lady lingered in a man’s bed before marriage. Unless…

“Surely we have time for—”

He kissed her. Swift and hard in all the best ways. But just as she was beginning to truly enjoy it, he set her apart from him.

“A lifetime with you will not be enough to satisfy me. So for now, I will get you safely home.”

She laughed, but then heard the rumble of a dray on the street. Surely, it was too early for that.

He must have seen her confusion, because he answered her question before she could ask it.

“It is just after four.”

Four? She gaped at him. “But the servants will be up soon.”

His expression turned wry. “Just so.”

She grimaced as she quickly donned her shift and coarse stockings. The shoes were distasteful, since they pinched her feet, but it was nothing compared to the hatred she felt for her stays. But since the dress was too tight, she had no choice but to wear it laced rib-crackingly tight or go naked in the street.

“You must help me,” she said as she fitted the garment to her chest.

“I dislike that you must be disguised,” he said as he quickly closed the buttons on his own attire.

“No more than I. Believe me, I will be the one gasping for air.” She twisted so the ties were facing him. “Next time, I shall be sure to barter with a larger woman.”

He gripped the ties but didn’t pull. “There will be no next time. I will not put you in danger like that again.”

“You didn’t put me there in the first place,” she countered. “I found you. Now pull. It’s almost daylight.” It was far from daylight, but she was beginning to fear discovery and was anxious to be demurely back at home.

He pulled the ties, but not hard enough. She could still take a breath. She cast him an arch look. “Is that all the power you have, my lord?”

He blinked, then frowned down at the garment. “I don’t know how you stand it.”

“A woman does what she must to find a husband.”

He hauled on the ribbons, but again, he was holding back. At this rate, she’d never be able to close the gown. Meanwhile, he grumbled into her ear, “You have already found a husband.”

“Which means I will have to appear as a countess at your side. You will not want me looking fat.”

“I would have you naked in my bed and never in one of these things again.”

She chuckled, shaking her head at his silliness. He truly did mean what he said, but she knew there were requirements of a lord and his lady. He would see to the land and his people. She would have be sure they were respected in Society and acted in a proper fashion.

“Come now, my lord. It is bind me tight now or take me home in a gown that gapes in the front for all to see.”

That was enough to spur him to action. With a grunt, he set one hand to her waist while the other hauled back on the ties. She exhaled, and within moments, she was as restricted as anyone not waywardly Welsh could possibly be.