Page 3 of His Bound Bedmate

“Millicent, ye’ve worked here almost two years, aye?”

“Nineteen months, Your High—Findlay.”

“And in that time, have I ever asked yer opinion about a woman?”

My throat closed up. Woman? He wanted to talk to me about his love life?

His perfect lips curved into one of his rare grins. “Judging from your lovely wide-eyed stare, I’m assuming I never have.”

He thinks I’m lovely?

“I need yer help.”

I forced my voice to work. “Anything, Findlay,” I whispered. “Anything for you.”

“I want ye to help me choose a wife.”

Chapter 2

Findlay

I loved the way her dark eyes widened further and her lips parted in the sexiest “oh”.

In the almost-two-years I’d worked with Millicent, God knows I’d wanted to flirt with her. To feel her out, to find out if she’d be a good partner for me. But she was my inferior, technically, and a damned good librarian…I couldn’t afford to fook up that situation.

But now that Father demanded we marry, I was looking at all the women in my acquaintance a little differently. The problem was, I couldn’t just find a female who was compatible with me emotionally and mentally…I needed to find one compatible with me sexually.

One who understood my little peculiarities, who embraced them.

And there was something about Millicent which told me she might be the one.

I knew her as well as anyone might know their librarian, and I respected her. She was a true academic, as I was, and managed to constantly surprise me with her knowledge of obscure social history. I could never be happy with an empty-headed woman interested only in the latest fashions…and Millicent was anything but.

Also, she was—as far as I was concerned—physically perfect. Tall, slender, with hair as dark as mine, and skin pale enough to make her blue eyes glow. I’d always found her beautiful, but now I examined her with thoughts of forever in mind, I had to admit she was stunning.

I smiled slightly as my eyes raked her from head to—well, I’d say ‘toe’, but honestly I didn’t get much further south than her tits. Over the last year I hadn’t let myself indulge in just staring at her, and judging from the way she shifted in that chair, the way she couldn’t meet my eyes…she wasn’t unaffected by my gaze. A flush crept up from the high neckline of her blouse, an obvious sign of her reaction.

My lips twitched again, and I liked the way she stared at them.

“Findlay?” she whispered again, and I was suddenly quite glad I’d given her permission to call me by my true name. It was going to make the next steps easier.

When I stood and crossed the room to her desk, I made sure to move slowly so she could see all of me. I was wearing my typical all-black, and had enough control over my body that I didn’t have a raging cockstand in my trousers…but surely she could feel the sensuality in the room.

The air was thick with it.

“So… Ye’ll help me, Millicent?”

I let my tongue caress her name, and she finally glanced away to her desk.

“Y-Yes, Your Highness. I would be happy to help you,” she said quietly.

“Good.” I nodded towards her notebook. “I could use a woman’s perspective. If ye’ll take notes?”

I didn’t have a secretary, male or female, and of course Millicent knew that. She didn’t appear irritated when she swiveled in her chair and flipped to a new page, which she labeled—without any prompting from me—“Choosing Prince Findlay of Faencairn a Wife”.

I hummed in appreciation of her competence.

Her fingers—with their pale pink nails—dipped the pen in the inkwell and held it above the paper, in an almost anticipatory way, as I stood behind her. I wanted to touch her, touch the long black hair she’d pulled into a simple bun.

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