Page 37 of Stolen By the Duke of Ice
“I am not, Peter.” Suddenly remembering that he had given up his greatcoat for her, she turned her head swiftly to face him. “But you must be!”
From her position, Dahlia could see the line of his jaw, and the smoothness of his newly shaven face. She felt a strange fluttering in her stomach.
“We are nearing the church.”
“Youarecold.”
“Such luck! I am to have a caring wife?—”
“I merely wish not to become a widow so soon after my wedding.”
“—with claws.”
His laughter tickled her ear. A novel feeling settled on Dahlia.
What is this? What feeling is this?
She turned once again to look at the man who sheltered her from the cold and the snow, only to find that his eyes were already on her.
Those green eyes.
Peter held her gaze. He knew that he was treading in deep waters—or, like his horse, ploughing his way through a street coveredin thick snow, but something in him could not seem to resist. Dahlia was a conundrum. He had thought that he knew what he was doing when he decided to offer for her hand in marriage, but she seemed to be proving him wrong at every turn.
Turning away from him, Dahlia sat up.
“Excuse me, Your Grace.” She moved about as she removed his greatcoat from her shoulders with no little difficulty.
“Dahlia, what are you doing? You will unseat yourself.”
“Here,” she said after a moment and held the garment to him, “put it around you.”
“You need it more than I do,” he said in a stern voice. “You are such a tiny thing that you will catch cold.”
“Since I am just atiny thing, then your coat will still be able to cover me even when you are wearing it.”
“Of all the ridiculous?—”
“Oh, just do it, Peter!”
Still grumbling, Peter adjusted in his seat as he put on the greatcoat, holding the reins with one hand then the other. He would never admit it, especially not to Dahlia, but he was getting rather cold. Well, except for where she had leaned on him—therehe was definitely warm. And now, as she leaned back against him again, there was no denying that she was right. He did need the warmth. Her warmth made more tangible because it came with compassion. He was touched.
Her warmth.
He gave himself a mental shake. But the smell of her, so close to him, had him thinking of little else.
He arranged the front of the greatcoat so that it covered her as well. She was right; it could cover them both nicely. Never in his life did he imagine himself in this situation, but he found that he was loathed for it to end. They shared their warmth in comfortable silence. He felt Dahlia relax against him fully as he laid her head on his chest, the fur trimming of her cloak tickling his chin.
After a while, he heard her speak.
“You know, Peter, before I met you, I had never indulged in early morning walks, and I definitely never enjoyed a horse ride in the middle of a heavy snowfall.”
“For the former, you are very welcome. As for the latter, I will remind you that had it not been for me, you would still have been stranded in the middle of the road in a snowstorm.”
“So, I should say thank you again?”
“Indeed.”
They looked at each other and burst into laughter.
