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“No.” His words were firm and unyielding. “You will be my countess.”
Her eyes flew up to his, wide and uncertain. “You should not say things like that, my lord.”
Beneath the reprimand, he could hear the longing.
“You are exactly right, I should not say them. I should ask you first.”
“Not what I meant.”
“You know me, Fyre. I am an earl who lives by his own rules no matter the consequences.” In his peripheral vision, he noticed her brother watching from the fringes as well. “Tell me, will you be my countess?”
She tried to look away but he captured her chin and held her still, locking onto her eyes once again.
“We are in the middle of town.”
“I know, and once you answer me, we will be heading to the doctor to get your wrist looked at.”
“I brought him over, thought he could be of some use here.”
They both looked to see Mr. Tennemin walking over the dirt street with the town’s doctor keeping stride with him.
“Thank you,” Phillip said, gratitude filling him.
He looked back to the woman whose soft skin still rested between his fingers. “Fyre?”
She bit her lower lip and he tsked, before using his thumb to roll it from her white teeth.
“Yes.”
Her response was soft but sure. His heart nearly burst from his chest. Moving his hand from her chin, he slid it back to cup her nape, pushing his fingers into her hair before he kissed her again. This time he lingered over the kiss, nibbling along her lower lip and swiping his tongue along the seam.
When she opened beneath his perusal, he groaned as he pushed in to tangle with her tongue. Struggling to remain decent in public, he ended the kiss and rested his head against hers, breathing just as hard as she was.
“We need to let the doctor look at your wrist.”
He remained at her side while the doctor escorted her off of the street. Scanning the faces there, he held the ones who showed signs of disgust or anger with a glare, but smiled, slightly, at the ones who looked genuinely happy for them. Probably more for Fyre than him, but people tended to like her more between the two of them.
As the doctor wrapped her left wrist, Phillip stood there, spinning his signet ring as he watched this other man touch her. Yes, it was in a purely professional manner, but it didn’t make him like it any more.
Skimming the crowd, he spied James and beckoned him forward. The boy came and looked up at him.
“Can you do something for me? Head to Mr. Larson’s shop and get me a silver chain. Tell him to put it on my account.”
“Yes, my lord.” He turned and dashed off, bare feet sending up plumes of dust as he ran.
The moment the man finished tending to Fyre, Phillip stepped in closer, tucking her against his larger body. Tremors pulsed through her and it ate at him to think she was worried about how bad things were going to be.
“Thank you, Doc.”
“Of course, my lord. Honored to be able to help.”
They shook hands, then he put his attention back on the woman he would love and protect for the rest of their lives.
He nudged her chin up so their eyes could meet. “Head up, baby.”
Despite the uncertainty he saw swimming in her eyes, she listened to him. Pride filled him.
“I do not think you know what you are doing, my lord.”
A true smile kicked up one half of his mouth. “I know exactly what I am doing, Fyre. I told you that. Exactly.”
“You are going to regret this one day, when you decide you truly want to marry.”
There was a definite challenge in her tone. The part of him that loved bantering with this woman and seeing the sassy side that would argue right back with him, the side he usually only got to see when they were alone, perked up.
Dipping his head closer to hers, he dragged his gaze over her smooth face and barely resisted the temptation to kiss her one more time.
“Why is that?” Phillip touched the pad of his thumb to the corner of her lush mouth.
“I will not let you go.”
Six words that were drenched in possessiveness and determination.
“I plan on holding you to that for the rest of our lives, baby.” He gave in to his need and tasted her lips once more. A short kiss that left him, and her, breathless.
“My lord.” James came back over, clutching a wrapped package.
“Thank you, James.” He took the small box and flipped the boy another coin. Arm still around Fyre, he repositioned the box between them. “Take the lid off.”
She did, and he grunted with satisfaction at the chain that lay there. It would be strong enough for what he needed. Brushing his lips over the top of her head, he shifted and reached into the box, withdrawing the chain.
