Page 37 of Her Sort of Scoundrel
“Never.” Dash had not a single doubt. “I will be her champion.”
Caro stood and grinned broadly. “Only if she wishes you to be.” She lifted a finger in warning. “There may be times you’ll want to rush in and save her, but she will wish to take care of matters on her own. Can you trust her to do such a thing?”
“Yes.” That bit, he knew, would be harder.
“Then I wish you all the luck, dear brother.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “And you already know I adore your bride-to-be.”
Once he’d seen her out, Dash returned to the chairs by the fire and slumped into one.
Had he been inattentive when Fiona had recited her needs and provisions by the folly?
Yes, perhaps he had been. He’d been so thrilled to see her that he’d spent half the time in a sort of awestruck haze. A bit like the first time he met her.
A soft scratching sounded at his door, and he stood to answer it.
The moment he pulled the door open, Fiona swept in, turned, and closed the door behind her.
“Don’t worry,” she told him. “No one saw me, and I made sure to be especially quiet as I passed Aurelia’s door.”
Dash cupped her cheek and then bent to kiss her. Softly, tenderly, just relishing her presence.
When he pulled back, her lips curved mischievously. “Is that how you intend to greet me every day?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m feeling better and better about the prospect of marriage.” She ran a hand up his chest, playing her fingers along the buttons of his shirt. But when she gazed at his face, she frowned.
“Goodness,” she said. “Don’t tell me you’re having doubts.”
“No.” He’d been given the greatest gift of his life today. “But I do have questions.”
“Well,” she said in a seductive tone, “we have all night.”
Like a true seductress, she walked toward the bed slowly, letting Dash take his fill of the slopes and curves of her body as revealed by the diaphanous robe she wore. In the glimmer of firelight, he could see that she wore nothing else underneath.
At the edge of the bed, she crooked her finger, urging him over.
He crossed to her, and she immediately pointed to the bed.
“Sit,” she commanded softly.
He did, and she immediately came to stand between his legs, her hands on his shoulders.
“Now, ask your questions.”
All the blood in his body had rushed to his groin, and Dash ground his teeth to keep his hands at her waist rather than allowing them to rove over every lovely inch of Fiona’s body. He had to try, for the sake of their future, to listen. To hear her, and to be certain that he knew what she needed from him.
“Tell me again what you expect of this marriage,” he said quietly. “And how your change of heart came about.”
“Oh. That is not at all what I expected you to ask.” She laughed, a light, lovely sound. “Well, our encounter at the club quite affected me.” She gripped the muscle of his shoulder, and he could feel a tremor ripple through her. “I knew I did not wish to go back to being merely neighbors, or even just friends.”
She hooked a finger under his chin and tipped his head up so that their eyes met.
“I wanted more of what I had a taste of.” She kissed him, flicking her tongue out to sweep across his lips.
Dash groaned and fought to hold his ardor in check. He was hard, aching for her, but he needed to hear the rest.
“I wanted more than to simply be your lover, but I was afraid. Yes, I know. Hard to believe of me.” She laughed. “Bold as brass most days and terrified of marriage. So I came to talk to Caro, and though she loves her husband and children, she did warn me off rushing into wedlock again.”
