Page 73 of Enticing the Devil

Five days of travel with this man.

This man.

Her husband.

Anne closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the cushioned rest. It just didn’t seem real.

At least the carriage loaned to them by Lord Harte was as luxurious as they come. The trip should be more comfortable than most, if not actually pleasant. Perhaps if she didn’t look at the man sitting so stiffly across from her, she wouldn’t feel so bereft at the chasm of silence extending between them.

When she opened her eyes again, she realized she must have fallen asleep for a bit. The summer afternoon sun had faded to a hazy slant of rays through pink and lavender clouds. Blinking a few times to clear her vision and awaken her thoughts, Anne cast a quick glance toward Beynon.

He was decidedly awake and though his head was turned to the side as he stared out the window, she had no doubt he knew she was alert and looking at him. The clenching of his jaw was a clear giveaway and the slow curling of his large hands into fists on the plush-cushioned seat was another indicator. And it appeared he was annoyed.

Apparently, he’d preferred her asleep.

Poor man.

She’d intended the thought to sound scathing and sarcastic in her own mind, but she realized there was too much truth in the sentiment.

He didn’t want her and now he was stuck with her until death should they part.

And she was stuck with him.

But the saddest thing about it was how easily it would be for her to feel not stuck at all.

Since he was so intent upon keeping his attention elsewhere, she allowed her focus to drift over his broad, muscled form. From the thick column of his neck and that delicious shadow beneath a jaw darkened by a day of beard growth to the hard breadth of his chest, which had pressed so firmly to her breasts when he’d had her pinned against the door. To the strong arms that bulged with muscle when strained, then his narrow hips, then his sturdy thighs and wide-spread, booted feet.

Her slow perusal brought a quickening to her breath and ignited heat beneath her skin.

Everything about him was so different from any man she’d ever known. There was an unapologetic authenticity—an innate physical confidence that confused her even as it lured her. There was something about him that was so...tangible. It made her want to grab hold of him and not let go.

She’d floated through so much of her life. Ungrounded and uncertain. Never truly feeling she had a place she belonged. And then she’d met Beynon.

From the start, his attitude had challenged her. His gruff manner had occasionally inspired a temper she’d never known she possessed. His rugged honesty had shocked her into behaving in ways she never would have believed herself capable of.

And she liked who she’d become since meeting him. It was new for her to feel like she could dissent against expected behaviors. She finally felt empowered in a way she hadn’t while under her father’s roof. She felt strong and confident.

Although she preferred to think such traits had always been in her—buried deep or perhaps disguised by a lifetime of trying to meet the expectations of her father and then society—she couldn’t deny how easy it had been to allow those aspects of her nature to come forth when she was with him.

And of course, she couldn’t ignore the more scandalous discoveries she’d made about herself.

She liked being the kind of woman who opened a man’s collar before kissing him deeply beneath a tree in full view of anyone who should pass by. The kind of woman who enjoyed harsh words being growled against her throat and large, rough hands gripping firmly to her bottom. The kind of woman a man could take passionately against a door while a houseful of guests gathered only rooms away.

Desire flooded her system, swift and consuming. Anne shifted in her seat, instinctively trying to ease the deep throbbing that had begun low in her body. The movement finally drew his attention.

He looked at her first from the corner of his eye, as though he hoped to glimpse at her without her knowing. But when their gazes locked, he gave up the pretense. His head turned toward her as his chin lowered. His brows were heavy, adding shadow to his stare. Adding heat, as well.

Anne’s fingertips tingled and her belly thrilled at the brooding, penetrating intensity he delivered so easily through those dark eyes. In the silence of his direct focus, her bones melted and her awareness centered on a single, intimate longing.

A need to surrender.

To him. To their future. To her intense desire for him.

She wanted to toss herself across the carriage and be crushed in his arms. She wanted to feel like she belonged there, pressed against him. Their hearts and lips aligned.

As her belly tightened with sensual yearning and her breath shortened, an ache spread out from her chest.

She looked away, directing her focus out the window.

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