Page 66 of The Lyon Whisperer
Her expression turned considering, then resolute. “So now I know. Youdidmarry me for my dowry.” She nodded as if to herself.
He could simply leave it. No harm for her to believe her misapprehension. Instead he heard himself say, “Yes and no. Marriage amongst thetonis always, in essence, a business transaction involving some sort of asset exchange—money, rank, power.”
“What a perfectly horrid way of looking at the institution of marriage. Its most important exchange is that of sacred vows.” She lifted her chin.
“Certainly, you are not so naive you imagined our union a love match?”
“Of course not.”
He reached out, curving his fingers around her delicate nape.
Her flesh vibrated with the rapid patter of her heartbeat, revealing without words her intense feelings on the matter, despite her calm demeanor.
He scooped his other arm around her waist and drew her onto his lap.
She went easily, her torso melting onto his, her arms twining around his neck as if they belonged there. When a mere inch separated her mouth from his, a satisfying quiver went through her.
God, he wanted her. He was as hard as a rock.
“I will tell you this, Amelia. I had no intention of wedding when first we met, and every belief I could amass the money necessary to see to both estates’ needs by harvesting the resources of same. While I won’t deny your dowry will be quite welcome, all the money in the world would not convince me to marry a woman I did not find pleasing. I find you very pleasing, indeed.”
She swallowed. Her lips parted and her gemstone eyes gleamed. “I also find you very pleasing,” she admitted.
He brought his lips to her ear.
She closed her eyes and arched her neck, inviting him closer still.
“Did you think about me today, Amelia? About what we did last night?”
After a brief hesitation she issued a fervent nod.
“Do you want me to touch you like that again?” He brushed a kiss over one corner of her mouth, then the other.
She drew in a shuddering breath and a fine tremor resonated through her.
He understood. His body was tight with his own pent-up need to have her, to feel her beneath him, again.
“Do you want to? You weren’t just…Never mind.” She shook her head.
He nearly groaned. Did he want to? Hell, he wanted to take her here and now and to hell with the evening meal.
“I wasn’t just what?” His free hand explored her cheek, the curve of her neck and shoulder. His fingers traced the edge of her cap sleeves and bodice. He smiled when he saw gooseflesh sprout over her exposed skin.
“You weren’t just claiming your marital rights in order to legitimize our marriage to get your hands on my dowry?”
He couldn’t help himself. He laughed.
The dreamy haze clouding her eyes disappeared in a blink. She glared at him.
“God’s teeth, woman. I want you. Truth be told I wanted you from the moment I heard your voice.” Though he hadn’t meant to admit as much.
She frowned in confusion. “My voice?”
With no intention of answering her question, he pressed on. “I want to make love to you, Amelia, to touch and taste you, everywhere. Shall I come to your chamber tonight?”
“My…” She broke off, stiffening in his arms. “No.”
Everything in him went cold. He felt vaguely tricked. Manipulated into confessing his desire for her, thinking she needed reassurance, while she—
