Page 72 of The Trouble With Dukes
She had closed her bedroom door and pulled a few pins from her hair when a movement in the shadows caught her eye.
How lovely, for Megan had been in error. Apparently, Hamish MacHugh was the sort to fall fast asleep in his intended’s very bed.
Hamish had drifted off on anxious thoughts of the trouble his siblings could get up to without him on hand to supervise, but he dreamed instead of bliss.
A gentle arm wrapped about his middle, soft caresses trailed over his back, a sweet kiss was pressed to his shoulder. No camp follower had ever smelled this delicious, no army cot had ever been this luxurious.
He sat up. “Damn it to hell. I fell asleep.”
Megan remained beside him,in the bed. “You don’t snore.”
“You’ll not be informing the world of that, please. I meant only to rest my eyes.” And the bed had looked so inviting, all warm covers, fluffy pillows, and elegant velvet hangings.
“I know how that feels,” Megan said, trailing a hand down Hamish’s arm. “If my eyes get too tired, there’s nothing else I can do but close them and rest, they sting and water so. Cuddle up, Hamish. I’ve missed you.”
Cuddle up. He’d never heard that particular command before and he liked the thought of obeying too well.
“I shouldn’t be in this bed with you, Meggie.”
She hiked up on her elbows, which dipped the covers low enough to reveal a fetching décolletage embroidered with emerald vines and pink roses.
“You’d better not be sharing a bed with anybody else, Hamish MacHugh.”
He flipped the covers back, but stayed where he was, felled by the sight of Megan with her hair in a single loose braid.
That braid begged to be unraveled. “Are you the jealous kind, then, Meggie mine?”
“Where you are concerned, I am. If you don’t intend to be a faithful husband, we’d best part ways now.”
Megan had surprised herself with that declaration. Hamish saw the hesitation in her eyes, the vulnerability and the resolution. Well, damn Fletcher Pilkington all over again.
Hamish crouched over his beloved. “Listen to me, Meggie. Firstly, when I make a vow, I keep it. Forsaking all others, means forsaking all others. Secondly, I suspect once we’re wed, the effort required to show up at meals with a few clothes on will tax the limit of my abilities. I’m marrying a passionate woman.”
That reply earned him a kiss on the mouth. “So make love with me, Hamish. We’re in a bed, with a guarantee of privacy, and opportunities like this won’t come along very often.”
Opportunities like this ought to never come along this side of heaven. “I thought we’d talk, Meggie. Cuddle a bit, visit, and get to know each other better.”
Perhaps Hamish already knew his intended well enough, because he could tell by the way she tucked the covers around him, that she was humoring him. From her, humoring wasn’t so bad, but Hamish wasn’t a complete fool.
He climbed off of her and situated himself at her side. His cock objected mightily to the change of location, which was just too bloody bad. To take Megan in his arms would be privilege enough that—
Megan slid an arm under Hamish’s neck and urged him closer.
“Meggie, my self-restraint is that of a mere mortal man. Don’t expect me to—”
“Cuddleup, Hamish,” she said, wrestling him into the position of her choosing. “Let me hold you for a change.”
“If you insist.” Thank heavens he’d shaved before embarking on this sortie. Her breast made the softest pillow beneath his cheek.
“I do insist,” she said, stroking his hair away from his brow. “What would you like to talk about?”
He wanted to talk about her breasts, her kisses, and what they should name their first eight children.
“Do you miss your parents, Meggie?”
She caressed his ear, which resulted in a curious, shivering sensation. “Of course not. They just left. Do you miss yours?”
He had known she would be this type of wife—fierce, perceptive, brave—but the reality was still a challenge.
