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15

The coach came to an abrupt stop, jerking Theo awake. Lord Thurston lay open and discarded on the seat beside her. Blinking, she rubbed her eyes, peering through the window to the view outside. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, bathing everything with the misty softness of twilight.

Her head banged against the window as Haven jumped out, rocking the coach.

After being ignored for the better part of the day—and really, if there was one moment in a woman’s life when she shouldn’t be overlooked wouldn’t it be her wedding day?—Theo was relieved to have reached their destination. Even if she didn’t know exactly where she was. She assumed an inn. At this point, Theo didn’t even care. At least she wouldn’t have to hear Haven snore or have her bones jostled further.

“Are you coming?” Haven’s rumble sounded from outside the coach.

Theo took a deep breath. She’d spent some of the time in the coach, when not considering how best to suffocate Haven, mulling over her behavior in regard to Blythe which, frankly, when viewed in hindsight, had been deplorable. It was time to take the reins, so to speak. Be the mistress of her own future.

Stop behaving like an idiot.

Whennotreliving the memories of how she’d made a cake of herself while listening to Haven snore, Theo also took the time to reflect on her new husband. Watching the rise and fall of his chest, Theo decided Haven was handsome, not pretty, as Blythe was, but carved and scraped like roughly hewn rock. He didn’t disdain society, but neither did he embrace it. There was confidence in the way he moved, a natural athletic ability which would make him good at swords or fighting, she supposed. And Haven’s skin fairly shimmered with resolve and ambition, much like Leo’s did. A determination, an arrogance, which would not permit him to bow to the whim of anyone else. In fact, Theo looked forward to Haven meeting Leo. They were much alike.

But most importantly, Haven, Theo decided,wasstarving. Not just for food, although the amount he could consume was astounding. But to regain all the things he’d lost. Not just the wealth and material things, she thought, recalling the flicker of envy she’d sensed from him at the affectionate way the Barringtons dealt with each other. There was something else. She’d seen a darkness swirling in Haven when he looked at Tony. Smug defiance. As if he’d beat Tony in a game of cards.

That image stuck firmly in her mind, refusing to fade.

Haven reached for her hand, practically dragging her from the coach.

Theo shook her foot, which had fallen asleep, struggling to stand on the rutted dirt of the inn’s courtyard. “Where are we?”

“At an inn.” Haven peered down at her. “Can’t you see it?”

He knew perfectly well she could see the inn. “I meant,” she replied calmly, then shook her head. “Never mind. You snore like a wounded bear, by the way.”

The side of his mouth lifted into an amused half-smile, making him more appealing than he had any right to be given her mood. He tugged her close to the warmth of his chest. “I don’t snore. Not sure why you insist that I do. And how would you know what a wounded bear sounds like?”

A familiar ripple rolled up Theo’s body as the heat of him bled into her skirts. Theo wanted nothing more than to lay her head on his chest and simply breathe in his scent. Did he feel the same pull in her direction? After his confession today, she thought he did.

“I’m starving.” She tried to sound snippy, but instead, her words came out barely above a whisper, almost seductive in tone. Which given Haven’s love of food, the seduction might well include a chicken leg dangling between her breasts. Or a bit of bread. Theo had to bite her lip to keep from giggling.

“What is so amusing, Lady Haven?”

“I was only thinking how you left me the smallest apple in the basket and there wasn’t enough cheese to feed a mouse. Pith would be most distressed.”

“Pith probably tried to poison me at breakfast. And I warned you, Theodosia. That was the first truth I told you.” Small bits of light sparkled in the depths of his mossy eyes as they looked at each other, oblivious to the footmen standing just to the side, patiently waiting for instruction.

“So you did,” she finally said, wanting to trace her fingernail over the scar on his chin.

“I get very hungry when I travel.” His breath sifted through her hair as he spoke, sending a tingle over her shoulders. Haven’s hold on Theo tightened just enough for her breasts to flatten against his coat.

“I don’t see how that’s possible,” she murmured. His closeness, the press of firm muscle against her softer form, was incredibly distracting. “You slept the entire time.”

“Perhaps I was deep in contemplation.”

“The book I’ve struggled to read through your snoring isLord Thurston’s Revenge.” Theo was loath to abandon their game of truths. “It’s lurid. Horribly romantic. Lots of swooning. Cackling pirates. Salty seadogs.”

Haven took her hand, leading her into the inn. He paused before the door and grinned before whispering in her ear, “I’ve already readLord Thurston’s Revenge. You’ll like the ending.”

Disreputable, slightly nefarious Haven read the sort of romance which made young ladies fan themselves? “I don’t see how that could possibly be true,” she said.

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “My sister wanted to read Lord Thurston. I insisted she could not until I had read one of the books first to ensure her gentle mind would not be corrupted by such drivel.” Haven’s eyes glowed in the most amazing way as he looked down on her. “I found myself entirely engrossed. Now I’ve read them all.”

“I’m not sure I believe you. But very well. And you really do smell of gingerbread.”

He stopped, bits of russet falling over his forehead. “So you’ve said. That doesn’t count as something new.” Heat sprang up in his eyes, the sort which made Theo’s insides twist pleasurably. She turned away and trotted inside the inn.

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