Dear Lord, whatwasthat and when could they do it again? As he removed his leg, she slumped against him.
Dom held her. “We cannot do this anymore. Not until we’re married.”
That was not at all what she wanted to hear. She pressed soft kisses along his jaw. “But I liked it.”
A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. “That you did bodes well for our future. However, if we do not stop, I’ll end up taking you before the wedding.”
What was so bad about that? The idea of being able to make the choice appealed to her. Granted there were risks, but how likely was it that Dom would die before they married? She knew about the act itself from a discussion she’d had with the wife of one of her father’s tenants.
Of course, the real question was how Dom would react when she told him she did not wish to wait. Then again, it might be better not to give him warning. There was enough time to convince him once her parents arrived and she moved into Merton House.
Holding his gaze, she reached up to smooth the back of his hair, and pressed her lips to his. Something lurked in the back of his eyes as he ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth, urging her to open.
Then his face shuttered, and he stepped back. “We must return to the drawing room, or someone will come looking for you.”
Drat the man. This was going to be harder than she’d thought. She straightened her gown. “There. Now no one need know we did more than look at pictures.”
When they returned to the drawing room a few minutes later, the crowd had almost doubled in size. She searched for her grandmother and finally found her with a group of older ladies, including Lady Merton and Lady Shirring. Which must mean Miss Turley was present.
After the morning visit she had made, Dotty had discussed the conversation she had overheard with Charlotte and Louisa. In the end, they decided that Lady Manners was the instigator and Miss Turley too easily led. She was certainly too biddable for Dom. Still, the reason Lady Manners had wanted her cousin to marry Dom remained a mystery.
The window seat was occupied, as were all the chairs and sofas. Large brightly colored pillows had been added to the seating, but even they were taken up by young men and some of the bolder ladies.
She led Dom to an empty corner. “I think Miss Turley is here.”
His dark golden brows drew together. “What makes you say that?”
“Her aunt, the Countess of Shirring, is with my grandmother and your mother. She came to Town to take charge of Miss Turley.”
“After the trick she tried to pull, it’s about time someone did.”
Dotty hadn’t thought he would be happy, but she had never realized he would still be this upset. “I do not think it was Miss Turley’s doing.” Or perhaps he was being gruff because he had wished to marry Miss Turley. Was that the reason he’d pulled away in the gallery? If he truly did not want her, Dotty would release him.
Raising a brow, she lifted her chin. “In any case, if events hadn’t turned out as they did, we would not be betrothed.”
Dom had been studying the room, when the challenge in Thea’s voice brought his gaze back to her. Damn. This was one of those moments other men complained about, that he had never thought to have. The problem was he had been listening to the music of her voice, and only half hearing her words. Was something wrong with their engagement? A martial light flared deep in her green eyes, and he instinctively knew there was only one response. “I want you.”
Her countenance relaxed, and she smiled again. “I do wonder why Lady Manners wanted the match so badly.”
He shrugged. He’d had all his prospective brides investigated. Their families were financially sound and there was no hint of impropriety concerning any of them. “Prestige. Her father is a viscount and the title isn’t that old.”
Thea’s brow shot up again.
Good Lord, this . . . whatever they had was fraught with hidden pitfalls. He would not call it a love match—he had vowed he wouldn’t fall in love—but it damn sure wasn’t a marriage of convenience. There was nothing remotely convenient about his Thea. Brothels, kittens, lost children, and fallen women. He felt as if he were sinking into a bog. And who knew where it would end? Not he. Not only that, but after meeting her grandmother, he had given up any hope that he would be able to control her.
Before Thea could comment, he said, “Her family would naturally want to look as high as possible for a husband.”
She mumbled something about her father and gave her head a little shake. “Not all ladies try to trap a gentleman.”
Thank the Lord. He was on solid ground again. “True.”
“There she is . . . with a young man.”
“Her brother, Mr. Turley.”
Her lush lips formed a slight moue. “Yes, I see the resemblance. I wonder if they will notice us.”
“I hope not.” Dom enjoyed having her to himself, even if it was in a salon crammed full of people. At least no one was asking her to dance or if she wanted refreshments.
