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“Conclusively yes to both,” he said in a deep, slightly rough tone.
That sounded promising, indeed.
Just then, the small casement clock on her desk sounded the hour. Braden glanced at it and gave a slight grimace.
“But time is not on our side,” he said. “Right now, the most important thing is protecting Felicity. That means we must put Beath in his place, and soon.”
Samantha’s heart immediately thumped down to earth, where all the worries lived.
Reluctantly, she pulled her hands from his. “Yes, I know. Even now, he could be talking to his cronies and spreading gossip.”
“Sweetheart, I hate to do this, but I must be off. I have a class, and then I’m due in surgery. I’ll come by as soon as I’m finished and we’ll talk some more, all right?”
She slowly nodded, reluctant to let him go with so many questions still whirling about her brain. When he started to stand, she couldn’t help blurting one out.
“Braden, what would you expect from our marriage?”
He sat back down. “Could you be more specific?”
She fiddled with her cuff for a moment. “I suppose I’m asking how would we live together?”
“Ah. Well, of course I would move in with you, but you needn’t fear that I would immediately claim my marital rights,” he matter-of-factly replied. “There is no need to rush physical intimacies, obviously.”
She felt a flush crawl up her neck. “Um, thank you for such a clear answer.”
He smiled. “I’m a physician, love. We tend to be straightforward about these things. As for the rest, we would go on as before. Working, taking care of Felicity, and searching for Roger’s killer and for the children.”
She perked up. “You would still help me with that?”
“Do you seriously think I would sit home by the fireside while you’re out wandering the stews?” he sardonically replied.
“I could always take Donny with me.”
“Daft girl.” He took her hands and stood, pulling her up with him. “I’ll be back later this afternoon. Promise me you’ll think seriously about my proposal.”
“I doubt I’ll be able to think of anything else,” she ruefully replied.
“Good. Now, I have a question for you.”
“Yes?”
“May I kiss you?”
She took in the suddenly roguish gleam in his gaze, and something else—desire, strong enough to jumble her thoughts like a puzzle thrown askew.
Samantha tried to give the question the consideration it deserved.
Well, silly, what are you waiting for?
“You may,” she replied.
Braden’s smile flashed for a moment, but then his rogue’s expression became tender. Carefully, as if she were a piece of porcelain, he cupped her chin. Samantha instinctively rested a hand on his chest, her fingers curling into the fine wool of his coat as if bracing herself. She hadn’t been kissed in such a long time, and her insides fluttered with nerves and anticipation.
He bent his head and his warm, firm mouth touched hers, carefully at first, as if testing her response. Then he began to truly kiss her, slowly but possessively, with deliciously teasing caresses. His tongue flickered along the seam of her lips, not pushing or rushing her, but simply tasting.
Samantha found herself sighing as she leaned into the kiss. His mouth on hers suddenly seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
As if sensing the change, Braden’s other hand came up to cradle the back of her head, holding her gently as he deepened the kiss. Beneath the fabric of his coat, she felt the firm beat of his heart against her fingertips. Her senses sparked and desire rose, a sensation she’d thought buried forever.
