Page 46
At this rate, he’d possess the whole organ before they reached Culloden.
Considering him, she finished drying her hands. He was certainly easy on the eyes. Head tilted, she pointed a finger at him after he shut the door. “Why, Camden Kennedy, yer as soft-hearted as I am.”
He chuckled and rolled a shoulder. “I’ll leave a generous tip. I admire a man who works hard and has taught his children to do so, as well.”
“I thought I’d ask Keane to send a bit of business their way,” she said, fingering the embroidery along the edge of the linen provided for drying.
Approval in his eyes, he bent his strong mouth into a disarming grin. “I had a similar thought.”
Plink.And there went another piece of her heart.
You, Bethea Reganne Margaret Glanville, are in big trouble.
“That smells marvelous.” Sniffing appreciatively, Camden strode to the basin to wash his hands, passing much too close to Bethea for her already heightened senses. Every nerve was strung taut as a violin string, and awareness hummed between them.
Suddenly the room felt entirely too small, and the bed entirely too big.
“Venison stew, I believe.” Bethea concentrated on setting out the food before arranging the serviettes and utensils. Anything to keep her wanton mind off him. She slipped onto a chair and unfolded her napkin.
He joined her at the table, and she couldn’t help but reflect on what a domesticated scene they presented.
As Bethea swallowed her first bite of surprisingly flavorful stew, she realized just how hungry she was. She’d had little appetite after the hasty ceremony. Had it only been this morning that she and Camden had reluctantly exchanged vows?
Bethea had come to know so much about him in such a short time. It seemed as if she’d known him for years. In truth, she was as comfortable in his presence as Keane’s, except for the electric sexual undercurrent that ebbed and flowed between them.
It was always there, lingering just beneath the surface and easily sparked to life at the slightest innocent touch, smoldering glance, or seductive timbre of his voice.
Her spoon resting in her bowl, Bethea paused and studied Camden. Neck bent, he applied himself to the meal with great exuberance. At Trentwick Castle, she’d seen just how much he’d eaten to satisfy a man of his size and build. Likely, he was half-starved, given the minimal amount he’d consumed today.
Lord, but he was a spectacular specimen of manhood. Since first meeting him, she’d thought Camden handsome, but something in her perspective of him had shifted. She viewed him through new lenses now, and she very much liked what she saw.
He was her husband.
True, the arrangement was temporary, but somehow that knowledge that they were husband and wife seemed to have awoken a feminine part of her—a womanly part, very much conscious of him as a virile man. And now, she couldn’t stop thinking about his scorching kisses or wondering what it would be like to be his wife in every way.
Her nipples hardened as heat pooled low in her belly.
Cease.
Such musings were unwise.
She and Camden couldn’t consummate the marriage, or else there’d be no annulment. Aye, they might share a mutual, carnal attraction, but neither was prepared for until death do us part.
Was she?
He glanced up from his food, his fork in midair. “What?”
Caught staring like a goose.
“Nothin’.” Revealing heat stole up her cheeks even as she shook her head. She cursed that she easily blushed. The dratted affliction made it nearly impossible to conceal her feelings.
His well-formed mouth spread into a charmer’s smile.
Bethea had always disdained calf-eyed females who wore their hearts on their sleeves, and here she was, acting the silliest of ninnies.
His gaze darkened seductively as he looked over the brim of his wine glass and took a long swallow.
She forbid her focus to gravitate to his corded neck. Was there any part of Camden Kennedy that wasn’t enticing sculpted muscle and tempting sinewy contours? How was any woman not in her dotage supposed to remain immune to that male perfection?
