Page 49 of Temptress in Disguise
For Naomi, the opposite was true. She knew herself but didn’t care if she projected that image to the wider world. Aramis was one of the few people who truly saw her, which is why she knew there was only one strategy that would excite her husband.
She would be honest.
And she would be herself.
ChapterEleven
Aramis mounted the stairs slowly, mentally exhausted from the night’s events. Having studied Pelham for hours, he’d caught him doing more than counting cards. Through a series of covert facial movements, the blackguard was collaborating with his friend Perks. It took nothing more than a threatening look to drag a confession from the men. Once word spread through theton, no one in London would gamble with the cheating devils again.
Aaron was furious he’d not noticed sooner, blaming his lapse on the stress of Miss Lovelace reopening The Burnished Jade.
Aramis chuckled to himself.
There was a word to describe his brother’s mental state—addled.
One question remained.
Did Aaron’s concerns relate to business, or was he suffering from the same crazed longing that had plagued Aramis for the last five hours? His blood raced southward whenever he thought about bedding Naomi. As the card room emptied and patrons left to chase pleasure elsewhere, he was busy considering how he might seduce the woman he’d married.
Yet, as he reached his bedchamber door, he paused.
An unexpected feeling flickered in his chest.
One he was forced to acknowledge as fear.
It had nothing to do with his ability to please her. He’d make her come so hard she’d forget her own name. No. When making their bargain, he’d not considered what he might lose once they parted. An intriguing companion. A dear friend. A passionate lover. The only woman who didn’t shy away from the truth.
Christian’s words filled his head.
You will know when you meet someone special. There’s an undeniable connection. You’re drawn to her in ways you cannot explain. Physically, it’s so intense …
Naomi was exceptional. He’d known it the minute he laid eyes on her. She deserved someone exceptional, too. A man with a huge heart. A man like Christian. One capable of feeling abiding affection. Not a broken beast. One irreparably damaged.
His throat tightened.
It was not too late to walk away.
They could have the marriage annulled.
She could save herself for someone more deserving.
So why did the thought leave him nauseous?
Lost in a whirl of confusion, he stepped back, but the bedchamber door flew open, and his gaze settled on the vision of his beautiful wife pointing a pistol at his chest.
“Sweet Mary,” she whispered, her determined gaze softening as she lowered her weapon. “You’ve been standing there for so long I feared the murderer had found his way into the club.”
All reservations vanished the instant she smiled. Her magnetic pull was a force beyond his comprehension. “We pay Sigmund to ensure no one ventures upstairs.”
She beckoned him inside his own bedchamber. “Then what were you doing lingering outside the door? You were there an age.”
“Thinking.” Wondering what it would take to become a better man.
Upon entering the room, he took a moment to study her. The plain nightgown swamped her and was so long the hem gathered dust from the boards. Her golden tresses were not caressing her shoulders but woven into a simple braid. His wife looked dainty. Demure. Divine.
“Before you say anything, I know the nightgown looks like a shroud, but Delphine insisted I borrow one.” She closed the door and turned the key to lock the world out. It was just the two of them alone at last. “It was this or one with ridiculous frills and ghastly ribbons. Tomorrow, I must visit my apartment and fetch more clothes.”
The heaviness in his chest eased. “You didn’t think your husband would like to see you in something more alluring?” She could wrap herself in a hessian sack, and he would want her with the same fervency.
