Part 5 (1/2)

”Your poor manners. I daresay you don't know the names of any of your own staff, do you?”

”I haven't the time for such nonsense. There are dozens of them.”

”Dozens? How large is your town house?”

”Large enough.” He caught her gaze and held up a hand. ”Hold. Before you get more out of sorts, let me

try to remember that blasted man's name.” He frowned. ”Seth?”

”Simon.”

”Simon, then. He came to the window when we stopped to change the horses. I explained I did not wish to wake you, so he had the carriage propped up so we could change the horses. Your Simon is quite ingenious.”

”I don't remember any of that.”

”I explained you were tired from our honeymoon activities.”

Fiona gasped. ”You did not!”

Jack's eyes glinted in the low light from the lantern. ”No, I did not. But I thought about it.” He slipped an arm about her waist and slid her across the small s.p.a.ce between him. ”It's not every groom who would be so understanding of his bride on their wedding night.” He cupped her face, his thumb tracing the line of her cheek. ”Fortunately for you, I am a patient man.”

An odd flutter danced in Fiona's stomach, her skin p.r.i.c.kling with goose b.u.mps. He'd always had the ability to make her bones melt with just a simple touch and a soft word. He was so certain of himself- while she was filled with uncertainty, an unwelcome experience. For the first time in her life, she did not know what the future held, and it terrified her.

He feathered his thumb over her lips, his gaze following the movement. ”You have the most beautiful mouth, Fiona. So lovely and lush, like a strawberry plucked at just the right time, red and sweet...”

He bent forward and raked his lips softly over hers. It wasn't a kiss; it was more of a promise, a whisper of what could be.

Fiona s.h.i.+vered again, her skin hot, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s tight. She should fight this attraction. Fight it and keep her own emotions well in control. But the last week had been nothingbut control, and she was tired of not feeling, not touching. She wanted comfort and acceptance and pa.s.sion. After a week of death, she wanted to tastelife. To hold it to her, to savor it and revel in it.

She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Jack saw the exact moment she gave herself over to the pa.s.sion that hovered between them. While she' d slept in his arms, the scent of her hair and the warmth of her skin beckoning to him, he'd had to fight the desire to touch her, taste her, possess her. It had been along carriage ride. During a rough section of road, her hand had fallen into his lap, and he'd thought he would explode.

It had always been this way between them. Since their first meeting, something hot and primal had drawn them together.

Now, finally released, his pa.s.sion exploded with the touch of her lips to his. He pulled her closer and nipped her bottom lip, savoring its plumpness.

But he wanted more than a kiss. Far more. He slid his hand up to her breast, cupped her, and ran his thumb over her nipple, making it harden through the thin material.

Fiona gasped, her mouth parting, and Jack slid his tongue between her lips. She moaned, pressing closer, her arms tightening about his neck.

G.o.d, but she was sweet. He deepened the kiss, tasting her ripeness as he slid his hands down her back to her waist, to her hips. She was so lush and full. This was a woman made for love, made for him.

A sudden rocking yanked him back to reality as the carriage stopped.

”d.a.m.n it!” he growled. ”We've arrived.” Jack looked down into her eyes. She sat on his lap, her lips swollen from his kisses, her skin touched with a ripe flush. His groin tightened, but he ruthlessly ignored it. She was his for the taking. He knew it. But before he made that leap, he had to discover for certain if their marriage could be annulled.

In the meantime, it would cause no harm to remind her who had the upper hand. Let her taste the cost of being married to a man who didn't wish to be. Jaw clenched, he pulled Fiona's pelisse back into place and smoothed her skirts.

A soft rap sounded on the door.

”Oh, no!” Fiona struggled to get off his lap, but Jack held her there.

”Jack!” she hissed. ”Simon will see.”

”Then let him.” He tightened his hold, his expression grim. ”You are my wife now. That gives me the

right to hold you whenever I wish.”

Fiona had the d.a.m.nedest effect on him, making him possessive and irritated at the same time. It was yet

another reason to end this farce, and quickly.

The carriage door opened, and Simon flushed at seeing Fiona in Jack's lap.

”The steps,” Jack ordered.

Simon nodded, his gaze directed at the ground. He let down the stairs, then moved aside.

Jack lifted her and stepped out of the carriage, carrying her to the broad steps that rose to the doors of

his house.

”Jack!” Fiona hissed. ”Put me down. Your servants will see, too.”