Page 19 of The Best Husband Money Can Buy

“Idiot,” he said brusquely. Half carrying her, he started the long trek back. The walkway that was adequate for one was hazardous for two, especially covered with soft, sliding snow. He took the outside edge himself, keeping one hand on the top of the balustrade and the other arm locked around his wife.

The trip back seemed three times as long as the one out. Emma moved stiffly, sometimes slipping on the soft snow. Once her feet went out from under her and they both almost went over the edge. She seemed unaware of how close they had come to death, but Anthony was sweating with strain by the time they reached the tower room.

Knowing this last bit was the most dangerous, he braced one foot against the balustrade, then scooped Emma up and maneuvered her through the window. After setting her on her feet inside, he climbed through himself and latched the window tight.

He dropped his cloak and kicked off his ruined shoes, then turned to his wife. Emma was shivering uncontrollably. He tossed aside her cloak and seated her in a chair by the fire. After throwing coal on lavishly, he brought a branch of candles close and examined her. Though she seemed barely aware of her surroundings, he couldn’t find signs of frostbite on her face or hands or feet.

He hesitated, considering what to do. Putting her in a hot bath would probably warm her quickly, but finding servants to heat the water would take time. Too much time. Even locating brandy would take longer than he wanted. She needed to be warmed up immediately.

Actually, the best way to warm her was probably with his own body. He found a heavy pair of his socks and put them on her icy feet. Then he drew her upright. “It’s back to bed, my girl.”

He tugged her nightgown up over her head. She didn’t resist, except for a faint squeak of protest.

Under other circumstances, he would have been paused to admire the lush femininity of her body, but not this time. He tucked her into bed and pulled the blankets over her, adding the spare from the wardrobe. Then he snuffed all but the window candle, stripped off his own garments, and slid under the covers.

Lying on his side, he drew her into his arms so that her spine and was pressed into his stomach and her bottom was against his groin. Damnation, but she was cold! He breathed warm air on the back of her ear and began rubbing the chilled length of her arm.

“What…what are you doing?” she said, sounding more aware.

“Trying to keep you from the death by freezing you so richly deserve.” He slid his knee between her icy thighs.

She stiffened and tried to wriggle free, which only pressed her icy but shapely rump into him harder. He tightened his arm around her and began massaging the cold curves of hip and thigh. “Hold still. The sooner you warm up, the less likely you are to come down with lung fever.”

“Why…why didn’t you just leave me out there?” she asked a little breathlessly.

“Because losing my wife after less than a fortnight of marriage would look like damned carelessness on my part!” he retorted.

“It would have been worth a little gossip,” she said hazily. “I have another forty thousand pounds in trust for me and my children. If I died now, you’d inherit the lot.”

His hand stilled. Christ, did she realize what she was saying? “If I understand you correctly,” he said acidly, “you didn’t trust me enough to reveal the truth about your fortune, and you’re now suggesting I should have murdered you for your money. Why the devil would you marry a man you find so contemptible?”

“Better the devil you know…” she muttered as she tried to writhe away again.

As he caught at her, his hand came down on her breast. The soft weight fit his hand perfectly. She inhaled sharply, and they both became very still.

He released her breast with reluctance. She may or may not be getting warmer, but he certainly was. “So I’m the devil you know. How flattering. Remind me to thrash you someday when the circumstances are more appropriate.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she said indignantly, sounding more herself.

“I restrain myself only because my mother taught me never to strike a female, no matter how richly she deserves it.” Though his voice was dryly humorous, he was uncomfortably aware that she would not have made her bizarre suggestion about leaving her to freeze if she didn’t secretly fear that he didn’t want to be married to her.

If she had died through no fault of his own, would he be relieved to be rich and free again? The answer in his head was an instant, vehementNo.It was time to be an adult. To take on responsibility, to build a family. And if Emma was not the wife he would have chosen, she was the wife he had, and he was not displeased by that. Not displeased at all.

He began rubbing her again. She was noticeably warmer. As his concern receded, sexual awareness became impossible to suppress. He had a beautiful, naked female body in his arms, and she was his wife. Or almost.

He wanted, rather desperately, to make love to her. Yet on a level beyond arousal he sensed that this was a critical moment. What he did now would influence the rest of his life. He moved his hand from her side to the front of her body, stroking from magnificent breasts over curving torso down to her soft belly. Her skin was satin smooth and blessedly warm.

“Your view of my character is rather unflattering, and I can’t say that I blame you for that,” he said quietly. “I’ve been an irresponsible, frivolous fellow most of my life, and you and I married for mutual convenience, not love. But I assure you, Emma, I do take our marriage seriously.”

He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her as he tried to shape what he wanted to say. “I will do my best to fulfill the vows I made on our wedding day, as I trust you to honor the ones you made to me. If we do that, perhaps in time love will come. If not love, surely we can manage caring and respect.”

She rolled onto her back and looked at him. In the dim light of the single candle, her eyes were a smoky gray, and fully aware. Their gazes held for a long, long moment.

Then she raised her left hand and touched the side of his face with gentle fingers. “Caring and respect are easy, Anthony,” she whispered. “You already have mine.”

He did not deserve so much from her. Turning his head, he tenderly kissed the shiny new wedding band he’d slid onto her finger two weeks before. That, at least, he had bought with his own money. Softly he said,“With this ring I thee wed.”

He laid her hand on the mattress. “With my body I thee worship.” Then he leaned forward and kissed her. Her mouth was warm and soft and welcoming.

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