Page 63 of A Stranger’s Gamble

Adam shook his head. “That will not be necessary.”

“Oh, but it is, my lord. Mr. Balfour instructed me not to leave without your clothes.”

“I wager he did,” Adam muttered.

“I beg your pardon, my lord?”

“Never mind.” Adam finished the brandy, then stood.

He removed his clothes, then put on the robe the boy held out for him. Once he dismissed the lad, Adam resumed his seat before the fire and sipped brandy as he contemplated the situation. He wouldn’t be surprised if their clothes weren’t returned until well after lunch. Sophie would be livid. It would serve the wench right. He still couldn’t believe she had followed him here. The little fool. She was fortunate Balfour hadn’t just killed her.

Adam lost himself in thoughts of what gold Balfour had stolen.

A knock on the door connecting the bedchamber snapped Adam from his thoughts.

“Enter,” he called.

The door opened, and one of the young maids entered. “Your wife is ready to receive you, my lord.”

Receive him? He would wager she was ready to throw him off the tallest building she could find.

He stood and strode past the maid, and she followed him into the bedchamber. Sophie sat on a chair near the hearth, a sheet wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl. The maid hurried to the door, where the other maid stood, and they left him and Sophie alone.

“Were you divested of your clothes as I was?” she asked.

“I am as naked as the day I was born,” he said. “Beneath my robe, of course.”

She stood and faced him. Adam immediately understood the reason for wrapping herself in the sheet. The hem of her nightgown was so sheer he discerned supple calves beneath the thin fabric. A shame she was so modest. He wouldn’t have minded the view. His cock pulsed in agreement.

She met his gaze square. “So, tell me, Lord Monthemer, did you enjoy trapping me into marriage?”

He had planned on asking her a similar question, but her shock when Balfour had called him by his title had been genuine. She hadn’t known his identity. Still….

“Why did you pretend to be a maid?” he asked.

“Because I grew tired of men trying to trap me into marriage for my money.”

Adam blinked. Then he laughed. Hard.

“You think this is funny?” she demanded.

He nodded, still laughing. “Forgive me, but I do.”

She took two steps toward him then halted. “What is going on here with Mr. Balfour?”

He grasped her arm and pulled her to the bed. She balked, but he shot her a warning look, then scooped her up and tossed her onto the mattress. She started to crawl off the other side, but he seized her arm.

“Hold fast, Miss Shaw,” he whispered.

Adam pulled the curtains down around the bed until they were enclosed. In the gloom, he couldn’t see her features but discerned the tremble in the arm he still gripped.

He leaned close and she drew back. Adam grasped the back of her neck and brought his mouth to her ear then whispered, “We cannot be certain who might be listening.”

“No doubt, your criminal partner,” she hissed. “Rest assured that I will not stay married to a criminal. I will have this marriage annulled. I told my father you were not to be trusted. Little did I know how right I was.”

He said in a low voice, “Criminal or not, after tonight there will be no annulment.”

“We are not truly married until the marriage is consummated—which you may depend upon not happening.”