Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 32223 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32223 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
She stares at me with a mix of a smile and a look of disbelief.
“How could you tell?”
I chuckle deeply, reaching across the table, plucking a piece of roasted carrot from her plate, and popping it into my mouth.
“Perfume spritzed in the air? Skin cream left by my basin?” I arch a brow. “Undergarments left on the floor pushed behind the door?”
Iona blushes fiercely. “I’m sure that was Cat, not I.”
“Of course, it was,” I say dryly, grinning at her.
“Well, Darcy must have loved using it.”
I frown. For one, because the mention of that witch’s name while I’m enjoying Iona’s company sours the mood. But for two… does she truly not know?
“You… you’re aware that Darcy and I kept separate quarters, aren’t you?”
Iona looks down at her food, chewing slowly as she shrugs. “Sure, but, not all the time, right?”
I snort. “All the time.”
She looks up, brow arched. “Okay most of the time, but surely not—”
“All the time,” I repeat again, my voice even. “We never once shared quarters, nor a bathing chamber.”
Iona swallows, running her teeth over her bottom lip.
“But, as man and wife, you…” she frowns, making a face a she shakes her pretty heat. “Forgive me, that’s none of my—”
“It is, though.”
She shakes her head again. “My lord, I truly don’t need to know about—”
“Darcy and I never shared a bed, Iona.”
Her eyes snap to mine, a pink flooding into her cheeks.
“What?”
I shrug, shaking my head as I sit back in my chair. “Not once. And believe me, nor was there ever the desire.”
Her brow furrows as she shakes her head once more. “My lord, I don’t want to hear about—”
“Yes, you do.”
The room goes quiet, and she sets her fork down, her hands knitting together on the table in front of her.
“And you should know,” I growl. “I don’t mean for our marriage—”
She blushes furiously.
“Our marriage,” I continue. “Should not and will not be tainted or marred with the past. Iona, it’s how I was able to have the marriage annulled entirely. We never once consummated it, and I am quite okay with that.”
She looks down, her lip caught in her teeth again. But it’s not enough.
…It’s not enough to hide the small smile that crosses her sweet mouth from my eyes.
“And you?” I grin, though inside a storm brews as I consider the possible answer.
“What about me?” She says quietly.
“You in Paris, with all those pretty French boys,” I growl.
Her face goes red, her eyes going wide as she realizes what I’m asking.
“No!”
The word squeaks out, and she only blushes deeper as she shakes her head and forces a lighter smile to her face.
“No, my lord,” she mumbles, cheeks blushing. “I—never.”
She looks up and when our eyes meet, there’s a flame that sparks between us.
“Never,” Iona says quietly. “Because…” she shakes her head, looking away.
“Tell me,” I growl.
She smiles through tight lips, her eyes shining as she looks back at me.
“Because back here…” she groans, bright red as she buries her face in her hands.
I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.
“Ahh, some boy back here, aye?”
She swallows, still blushing as her eyes dart to mine quickly before they look away.
“I—no.”
She’s quiet, and when she chances another look at me, I hold her gaze with mine, and I watch her squirm slightly.
“Not a boy, my lord,” she says quietly. So, so quietly.
My pulse thunders, a heat blazing into my eyes as our gazes lock. I don’t know what exactly changes, but something does. The air in the room gets a little warmer, and thicker. The walls seem to get closer. The sweet floral scent of her skin permeates my senses, and my eyes follow the soft curve of her lips, to her jaw, to her neck, and the thudding pulse there in the shallow of it.
“Not a boy,” I growl.
She swallows, shaking her head.
“There’s a man, my lord,” she all but whispers, her eyes locked on mine, full of heat as her bottom lip trembles.
I hold back the groan in my throat, saying nothing. Hardly daring to move.
Iona’s bosom rises and falls heavily with her breath, and she blinks quickly as she holds my fierce gaze.
“One I couldn’t ever get out of my head, my lord,” she says quietly. “One I’ve never been able to get out of my head.”
And suddenly, like she’s taken a sip of courage from the gods themselves, her hand slides across the table. I growl, pulling mine back as the sudden reality of what I’m even doing here in her room hits me. My eyes are fierce as I look up into hers, my jaw tight and grinding.
“Careful, lass,” I growl quietly.
Iona swallows, heat blooming through her face.
“I—I don’t want to be careful,” she whispers. “You asked me to marry you, my lord. And earlier, in the bath—”
“I asked you for a political reason,” I rumble out, fire blazing in my veins as I hold her eyes with mine. “You know that, Iona. Whatever else you may think—”