Page 43 of The Rebel's Prize

At her hesitation, he said, "By the time you call for a maid, she arrives, and she undresses you, we'll have wasted another quarter of an hour or so. Time we could both be sleeping."

As if to emphasize his point, from outside the window came the chime of the local temple tower. It was growing late, and they needed to be back at the caravan just after dawn. That wasn't enough sleep for Lucien. It wasn't enough sleep for anyone, even if they were in full health. Back in Illvya, the aristos kept late hours, but most of them made up for it by also sleeping their mornings away. That wasn't an option if the caravan was to stay on schedule.

With a huff of breath, she crossed back over to the bed and turned, presenting her back.

He thumped the mattress a few times. "Sit. Unless you want me to stand."

He had her there. She couldn't risk him fainting.

Gritting her teeth, she sat and twisted so he could get to the buttons. "If you just do the first few, I'm sure I can manage the rest."

He snorted. "Be quiet."

His fingers moved down her spine, brushing the skin under the thin cotton chemise. The Miseneian gown required fewer layers than her Illvyan dresses. A shiver ran through her as the heat from his hand spread across her skin. Her nipples peaked, and she crossed her arms over her chest, pretending to catch the bodice of the gown to hide the reaction.

"There," Lucien said. "That's the last of them."

"Thank you," she muttered. "Now get into bed. You need to sleep."

"Go get changed. I'm not watching. My eyes are firmly closed."

A glance over her shoulder revealed that he had his eyes screwed up exaggeratedly tight, which made her smile reluctantly.

"Good," she said. "Keep them that way." At least until she managed to convince her body to stop reacting to the man. If he no longer wanted her, then it was going to have to just get used to doing without him.

"Well, I will," he said, "but that will slow down my own efforts at undressing."

"You can wait. Once I'm in my nightgown, I'll lie down in the bed and close my eyes and not watch you. Problem solved."

His chuckle floated in her ears as she scurried across the room to change.

CHAPTER10

"Will you be wanting your horse, my lord?" Corporal Chartres asked, joining Lucien by the wagon early the next morning.

Lucien hesitated, fussing with the feedbag of the horse he'd been checking over. He didn't particularly want to travel in the wagon with Chloe and Silya fussing over him all morning, but riding was more taxing, and he wasn't sure that would be a good idea. Despite Domina Francis's pills and Chloe's assistance the night before, he still felt as though he could use about three more nights of sleep. He'd started checking over the horses more to give himself an activity that might help shake some of the lethargy from his limbs than any concern that Corporal Chartres wouldn't have had them harnessed in perfect fashion.

"Excuse me, Corporal." Chloe's voice came from behind him. "I just need a word with Lord Castaigne."

Corporal Chartres bobbed his head obediently. "I'll be back in a minute, my lord."

Lucien turned to face his wife. She wore a blue cotton frock she'd purchased the previous day, but her expression didn't match the airiness of the fabric. Instead, it suggested he was in some sort of trouble.

"Yes?" he said somewhat warily, checking behind him to make sure Chartres was out of earshot. This seemed like it might turn into the kind of conversation that would be better for his men not to witness.

As he turned back, she leaned up on tiptoe and whispered, "You are not getting on a horse this morning. You need to rest. You will be joining us in the wagon." She finished this with a brief brush of her lips against his cheek, which he figured was more to convince any onlookers that they were merely having a friendly conversation between husband and wife and not the actual disagreement it was about to turn into.

"I am perfectly fine," he replied softly.

"You could barely keep your eyes open for the entire journey from the town back here to camp. It will hardly make a good impression if you fall from your horse."

"I'm not going to fall off my horse."

"You have no way of knowing that." Her eyes flashed with irritation, turning a darker shade of brown, like strong coffee. Which he could use.

"Can you not be sensible for once, after everything that happened last night?" she continued. "Or would that be too much of a blow to your male pride?"

She was right. But for some reason he was in the mood to argue, fatigue and frustration with the whole situation sharpening his temper. He'd slept better than the previous nights, mostly because he'd been too exhausted to do otherwise, but he still felt as though he hadn't. And despite his best intentions, he'd woken with her in his arms. Until her eyes had flown open, and she'd wriggled away from him as though she'd found a snake in her arms rather than her husband.

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