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“Thomson.” She pulled her gloves off and tucked them into her cloak’s pocket. “Are we still newlyweds, or should we pretend to have been married longer in case someone comes lookin’ for a newlywed couple?”
“Why, Mrs. Kennedy. Are ye enjoyin’ this misadventure?”
“Well, ye must admit ’tis excitin’.”
Not the word he’d use, but the color had returned to her cheeks, and her silver-gray eyes sparkled with anticipation. He’d not tell her about the concerns flitting around his mind.
Leaning back, Camden folded his arms. “Well, since I canna keep my eyes off ye, nae one is goin’ to credit we’ve been married verra long.”
She flushed and darted her tongue out to moisten her lower lip.
God’s teeth, she’s a temptress.
He swallowed a groan and adjusted his position on the seat so that she couldn’t see his growing cock. This marriage of convenience was becoming more and more inconvenient with each passing mile.
“Uh, hum. I ken what ye mean.” She gave him a flirtatious glance from beneath her lashes. “Ye arena so bad to gaze upon yerself.”
He needed to change the direction of the conversation, or this marriage would be consummated in short order and in a manner nae bride deserved. Tupped on a carriage seat by an overzealous husband.
“If anyone asks, we’ve been married for three months,” he said. “That’s long enough to deter suspicion.”
She nodded and fell silent, though she ran her fingertips up and down the edge of her cloak, revealing she wasn’t as calm inwardly as she pretended to be.
“Och, what is on yer mind, lass?”
She turned those beautiful, intelligent pewter gray eyes upon him. Why hadn’t he noticed the flecks of blue and purple in them, before?
“I’m just wonderin’ how long we’ll have to pretend to be married.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I ken ye have responsibilities to the Crown. Where will I live while ye are—”
Before she could object, he crossed the coach and after sitting beside her, pulled her onto his lap. She issued a startled squeak, but settled against his chest.
“We’ll cross those bridges when we come to them, Bethea.”
Not that he hadn’t already been thinking of ideas and then tossing them aside almost as quickly as he’d contrived them. The only future he imagined now was one with Bethea.
In fact, he meant to do whatever he must to convince her to remain his wife.
Her lashes lowered partway, but not before he saw her glance at his mouth.
Male satisfaction tunneled through him.
“Bethea?”
“Aye?” She tilted her neck to look at him.
Aye, definitely purple flecks in her now smokey gray eyes, and those amethyst shards glittered when she was aroused. Camden tucked that fascinating fact into the back of his mind.
“I’m goin’ to kiss ye unless ye tell me no’ to.”
Her chin angled up a bit more, and she leaned into him.
“Why, Camden, would I do that?”
Then he yielded to the fire smoldering in his blood and took her sweet mouth, tasting her essence, and wishing she might be his for all time.
