Page 89 of The Dangerous Lord

Heat swam over her at the thought of his unbuttoning her dress and sliding it slowly off her body. Had he touched her? Perhaps. But he hadn’t bedded her—she was fairly certain of that. She would remember if he had. Besides, if he’d bedded her, he probably wouldn’t be drunk now.

He held the bottle up, regarded it with a scowl, then tossed it aside like a surly child displeased with a toy. “Empty, damn it. Is there any more in this place?”

“If there was, I wouldn’t give it to you,” she said matter-of-factly. “You shouldn’t be drinking at this hour, for pity’s sake.”

“I daresay any man who spent his wedding night watching his wife coddle a lot of thankless scamps and fall into a dead sleep would be drinking at this hour.”

He sounded so forlorn, the poor dear. It almost made up for the fact that he had spent last night trying to wear down her resistance to him. A caress when her brothers weren’t looking ... an arm around the waist ... handholding. Not to mention two stolen kisses in the hall and one blatant one under the mistletoe. Oh, yes, he deserved a wedding night alone after what he’d put her through.

She didn’t realize she’d smiled until he grumbled, “You find this vastly amusing, don’t you? You’re very proud of yourself for all your delaying tactics.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly plan it that way, so I can hardly be proud of it. But it did work in my favor.” She slipped from the bed and donned her dressing gown, then went to the door and unlocked it.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He rose from the chair, his movements surprisingly steady.

She faced him, and her mouth went dry. His worsted small clothes left nothing to the imagination, outlining his arousal in loving detail. When combined with his half-naked and quite glorious physique, the sight sent her heart racing. Drat the man. Even slightly drunk, he was tempting.

But she wouldn’t let him distract her from her purpose this time. Thinking quickly, she palmed the key so he couldn’t lock the door again. “I thought I’d fetch you something for your aching head. The boys will be up any minute and⁠—”

“Lock the door,” he ordered as he stalked toward her. “We may have missed our wedding night, wife, but there’s nothing that says we can’t have a wedding morning.”

Heart pounding, she opened the door, but in two steps he was at her side, slamming it closed before she could get through. He sandwiched her body between his and the door. Every inch of hard, determined male flexed against her.

“Give me the key,” he commanded, eyes glittering down at her.

Defiantly, she tossed it across the room. “Get it yourself.”

He hesitated, apparently debating how to get the key without leaving her long enough for her to escape. Then he smiled and his hand cupped her hip. “Never mind.”

But as he bent his head to kiss her, she wriggled from between him and the door. “You’re in no condition to be doing this,” she said, backing away from him.

“No man has ever been in a better condition to do this, querida.” He stalked her with leisurely intent. “You’re my wife now. And we will consummate this marriage.”

The uneven series of raps and knocks on her bedchamber door startled them both. Ian halted, turning to glare at the door.

“Lissy!” came a child’s loud whisper beyond it. “Lissy, are you awake?”

“Say nothing, and the little imps will leave,” he growled under his breath.

She laughed, partly from the ludicrousness of his statement and partly out of relief at being spared once more. “It’s Christmas morning, Ian. They won’t leave. Just be happy they didn’t burst in here without knocking. That’s what they usually do.”

That sent him back against the door in a flash. “Go away, lads!” he called through it. “Your sister isn’t ready to get up yet. She’ll come out in a while.”

She smirked at him. “Nor will anything you say put them off. Not on Christmas morn.”

As if to support her claims, the door handle rattled and a child’s voice cried, “Are you in there, Lissy? We want to see if Father Christmas filled our stockings!”

“So go look at them!” Ian shouted at the door.

“We can’t! Lissy locked them in the parlor!”

His gaze shot to her. “You didn’t.”

“I always do. Otherwise, they’d be in there at midnight.”

He glowered at her. “Tell them to wait until we come out.”

“Not on your life.” With a grin, she called out, “I’ll only be a moment, boys! I just have to dress!”