Page 83 of Wild Lily
Lily beamed at him. “I hoped that might be she. I saw her when I went in to change for supper. She was pretty, wasn’t she?”
“Very.”
“A pity she lived alone.”
“She didn’t want to marry for less than love,” he said and at once wished he hadn’t. That was what he and Lily had just done. And he wasn’t feeling particularly secure about it.
“Do you know if she regretted never marrying?” Lily asked, walking toward the entry to his bedroom.
“That she never said. Instead she wanted me to understand the importance of choosing a mate wisely.”
“I hope you have.”
“I think I have,” he admitted and held out his hand. “Come with me.”
She shook her head, refusing to take it. “I have to know…”
He took pity on her and stepped to her. “What?”
“Do you think we’ll be happy together?”
“I want to be.”
But she stepped back.
“Lily, if you don’t wish to proceed, we can wait. We have years and years together.”
“This should happen before that!”
She was so dear. “It will. Don’t worry. I’ll show you to your rooms. We have a connecting door.” He gestured toward it. “You can return whenever you wish.”
“All right.” She walked forward.
Trailing him, she said nothing. So much for his hope to unhook that pretty little frog.
He turned the knob of the door and pulled it open.
She walked through but halted on the threshold—and whirled to face him. “I’m being childish, aren’t I?”
“Be you.”He had to be noble about her reluctance, didn’t he?“Good night.”
Smiling at her, he began to close the door.
But she put a hand to the wood. “I really don’t want to wait. I liked what we did today. In the coach. Can we do more of that, please?”
He hauled her close. She was spontaneous, natural, the qualities that lit his heart and had him taking her in his arms, smoothing her hair from her temples and burying his lips in her fragrant hair. She came to him trusting him, and he detected that beneath the wrapper, she wore next to nothing.
He stroked her collarbone down to her cleavage and that tempting red frog.
Undoing the closure of her robe, he pushed aside the fabric. Cool night air met her skin and she shivered in his arms. She fell back against the wall.
He cupped her jaw, smiled at her with raw desire and put his lips to her cheek. “We can go slowly.”
“I don’t want to,” she confessed. “You’ll think I’m unwilling.”
“I don’t.”
She let her forehead fall to his shoulder. Her hands gripped the lapels of his robe. So often she’d seen horses mate. Cattle, too. And her herding dogs. Their cries, all harsh. The event over very soon.
