He shook his head. “I already told the innkeeper this is our wedding night. I’ll be damned if I’ll go back down there and ask for another room now.”
“But where will you sleep?”
“Right bloody here, I imagine.” He patted the sofa.
Men were impossible. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re far too tall. Wouldn’t it be better to just swallow your pride and ask for another room? Why do you care what the innkeeper thinks?”
He downed the rest of the champagne and poured himself another glass. She watched him nervously, wondering if he became volatile when he was intoxicated.
“I’m not getting another room. I do have a little pride.”
“Fine,” she muttered. “Be uncomfortable. I don’t care.”
He leaned toward her, with the pretense of refilling her glass. Her champagne had somehow disappeared during the last few tension-filled minutes. Now only inches separated them.
He stared at her as though he’d like to wring her neck. Or devour her. Or both.
“Don’t you?” He brushed her cheek with his fingertip, the touch feather light and at odds with his simmering anger.
“Don’t I what?” His nearness made her feel breathless and strange.
“Don’t you care for me, Natalia? Not even a little?” He ran his index finger over her lips, his gaze frighteningly intense.
“Please,” she whispered, but she didn’t know what she was asking for. Did she want him to keep touching her, or did she want him to leave her alone?
He kept stroking her lip, and she felt a growing urge to open her mouth, to kiss the soft little pad of skin on the tip of his finger. The champagne seemed to have inhibited her ability to keep from giving into her urges, because before she could stop herself, she’d done exactly that.
Eyes widening, he inhaled sharply as she tasted the softness of his skin.
“Yes. Kiss me. At least give me this much. A wedding present. A real kiss, not a dutiful little peck like this morning.”
He wanted to kiss her. Suddenly, it didn’t seem like so very much to ask. It was their wedding night, after all.
She leaned forward, holding his gaze until the very last second. Then she closed her eyes and fell into his embrace.
This time, he was not sweet. He was not gentle. He devoured her mouth and pressed her against the back of the sofa as if he’d like to pin her there for all eternity.
Weak and dizzy with longing, she let him consume her, drowning in the taste of him—man, heat, and sweet champagne. She speared her hands through his silken hair and pulled him even closer. A maelstrom of passion ignited within her and centered in the pit of her stomach with pulsating urgency. She wanted to press against him until they became one shape, one body.
With a muffled groan, he pulled away. He rested his forehead against hers and his big body trembled as he obviously fought to control his own raging need. “If you don’t want to make love to me, you’d better get the hell out of here.”
She blinked owlishly, blinded by a haze of lust.
“Run away,” he urged sharply, then he gentled. “Or don’t. Stay, love. Let me take off your clothes and touch you. Taste you.” He spread gentle, tender kisses over her brow, and then ran his tongue around the delicate shell of her ear. “Let me come inside you, Natalia. Let me make you my wife.”
She shuddered at the images his words conjured. For a long second, she let herself dangle on that dangerous precipice. Oh, how she wanted to stay. She loved him so much…
She wrenched out of his arms. She couldn’t do this, not now, when everything inside her demanded that he love her in return. She might beg. She might plead. She might say those damning words again.
I love you, Dylan.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Then she raced for the bedchamber door, slamming it shut and locking it behind her.
Chapter Twenty
The solicitor, Mr. James Byrnes, kept a suite of offices near the Royal Mile, in the very heart of Edinburgh. Dylan went there alone after they arrived in the city, leaving Natalia at the inn where they’d spend the night.
If his finances were as desperate as he thought, he didn’t want her with him. His poverty would only give her more ammunition the next time she wanted to argue about her dowry.
