Page 34 of The Rebellious Countess
For a moment he didn’t care much for Astley if his wife was willing to sacrifice herself for the man. “Do you love him?”
She pulled back, but he refused to release her as she searched his face…for what, he didn’t know.
“You’re jealous,” she accused, as if the thought popped into her head without her realizing it.
He laughed and pushed her away. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You are!” She grinned and he wanted to punch the wall.
Yes, he was jealous. He shouldn’t be, but he was. No one had ever wanted to sacrifice their body for him, yet her willingness to do so for Astley—was unthinkable—unless she knew him intimately. Unless Astley was the one to show her how to handle a man’s cock as she’d done upstairs.
Damnation. He needed to gain the upper hand once more. “My point being, unless you are willing to lie on your back and spread your legs, you cannot help.”
“That’s what you planned to do with me, is it not?”
“No! It was nothing like that.”
She folded her arms across her chest once more, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to the taut, thin fabric of her borrowed wrapper and shift pulling tightly across her perfect breasts and pert nipples. “Then explain to me how different it is, because I’d truly like to know.”
He returned his gaze to hers and tried to stay focused. “I did not intend to bed you. You were to be returned to England yesterday morning on theConfiance.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh.” He repeated. “I arranged for your transportation back to England with the captain, and my superior was to meet you at the docks on English soil. When you don’t arrive, there will be hell to pay.”
“I see.” She rubbed her hand across her eyes, fatigue evident in her posture.
“You weren’t supposed to be here in the first place,” he continued. “You were supposed to be back at Caerlaverock.”
“You planned on leaving without me?” The wounded sound to her voice made him want to puke.
“Yes.”
“So why didn’t you?”
He saw the hope in her eyes and vowed to extinguish it then and there. “I told you, the man I bought the Scotch from would only sell to a member of thetonwho was wedded to a Scottish bride.”
“That explains the wedding, not why I’m here.”
“The smuggler wanted to see you, and then he made certain I left the docks with my bride in tow.”
Suspicion began to cloud her face. “Why don’t I remember any of this?”
He debated on lying once more. He was good at lying, but Máira deserved better than what he’d done. “I made certain you over-imbibed at our wedding supper.”
“You what?” Shock and disbelief masked her anger—momentarily. Once she accepted that she hadn’t just made bad choices, she would be furious.
“The seller demanded to see my Scottish bride before he would turn over the merchandise.”
She snorted. “Let me get this straight. You met me, wooed me, married me, and then got me drunk to get a man to give you some Scotch?”
“He didn’tgiveme anything. I bought it.”
“Oh, forgive me for getting that one little detail wrong.” Her cheeks were turning pink as her anger grew. “How did you get me there?”
“I carried you.”
“Like a sack of potatoes?”
