Page 16 of The Lyon’s Last Gamble (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #80)

T here. She’d said it. She dared not look at Christopher. She didn’t want to see the disappointment and disgust that was surely on his face.

She held her breath.

“Whitney,” he called.

But, still, her eyes remained on the small window of the carriage. Not really seeing what was happening outside.

“Whitney,” Christopher repeated. “Look at me, lass,” his voice soft.

Slowly, she did as he said, bracing herself for the anger that would surely be directed at her. But when her eyes clashed with his, she only saw sympathy in their brown depths.

“Ye are no’ the first lass to have a lapse in judgement and go against what society deems proper. Hell, ’tis why I prefer Scotland. Ye English are so uptight.”

She raised her brows in surprise. This was the very opposite of what she expected.

“Are ye not mad?”

He barked out a laugh. “Did it happen whilst we were together? Nay. It has naught to do with me. Whate’er ye did in your past doesna affect me in anyway.”

“M-m-m,” she sputtered, trying to get out the words. “Maybe you don’t understand what I am saying.”

“Och, I ken what ye are saying.” He shrugged his shoulders as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “I dinna put any blame on ye, lass. Ye found someone ye loved. And thought he returned the emotion. He took advantage of that.”

“Yes. No. I was a willing participant.” She didn’t want him to think that Harold had taken opportunities with her that she didn’t want. She very much did at the time.

“So, society shunned ye for running with your emotions and acting on them. Nay doubt, he then turned tail and ran?”

Wringing her hands in her lap, she shrugged. “Our relations continued for some time. In secret, of course.”

“Of course. Surely, he insisted upon that.”

Biting her lip, she nodded.

“Ye are no’ the first lass to fall for sweet words and promises. Ye willna be the last either.”

“I understand if you want to appeal the contract. I will go to Mrs. Dove-Lyon and explain things.”

He dropped to his knees in front of Whitney, capturing her chin between his fingers and forcing her to look at him. “I will do nay such thing. Ye ken what? I say we go back out there and promenade our arses off.”

Her eyes rounded at his words.

“I dinna care what they think. We will be married in two days. No one can tell us how to behave. Come on.” He kissed her cheek, before clasping her hand and throwing open the door to the carriage. The footman hurried over, but he waved him away.

“I am going to go promenade with my soon-to-be wife and show her off to all of London. Naysayers be damned.” With a huge smile on his handsome face, he bent and kissed her on the cheek.

She couldn’t hide her look of shock as she followed him back out to the walking path, her head held high. A burst of pride exploded in her chest.

A feeling she hadn’t felt in a very long time, but she liked it. He did that for her. He gave her the confidence to promenade and not feel as if she didn’t deserve it.

This time, when people stared and pointed, she stared right back, meeting their gaze with challenge brightening her eyes.

Surprisingly, they hurried to avert their stares. She smiled at the power she suddenly felt.

Christopher squeezed Whitney’s hand. “I’m proud of ye. Ye are an amazing lass.” He appeared to be telling the truth. Though she wasn’t the best in reading that characteristic. Still, she chose to believe it wasn’t a lie.

The difference in the way she walked earlier and the way she was walking now was tenfold. She felt as if she had found a confidence she didn’t have before. She found it quite exciting. Freeing, even.

She leaned in and bumped his shoulder. “Because of you. The past couple of years have been hard. I’ve let these women dictate how I should live. I see now that I should not have allowed them to do so. I thank you for that.”

Was that a blush that tinged his cheeks? He dipped his head, hiding his expression from her before he spoke. “Ye needna thank me, lass. All of this,” he fanned his arm out in front of them. “All of this ye had inside of ye all along. Ye only needed the right person to bring it out of ye.” He stopped walking and faced her.

“What are you doing?” She looked around them, but for once, it didn’t seem like anyone was paying them any attention.

“I’m going to kiss my wife.”

His head dropped to hers, his mouth capturing hers in a gentle kiss. His lips soft against hers and she nearly melted into him. Her hands splayed on his chest, and she breathed him in. The world around them forgotten. It was as if, in this moment in time, only they existed. This plane was theirs and theirs alone.

She wanted him to deepen the kiss. Her body ached for more. Longed for more.

But this was not the place. She remembered where they were and broke the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he began to apologize.

“Please, do not apologize. I very much enjoyed it.” She bit her lip as she looked up at him. Grabbing his hand, she steered them in the direction of their carriage. “As a matter of fact, I would have liked to kiss you longer.”

His brows shot up in surprise.

“But I think we’ve done enough to scandalize society for one day.” She laughed. “I don’t need to be the subject of another shunning. But I make no such promises for what is going to happen once we get to our carriage.”

His eyes rounded and he hurried his steps. “Ye dinna need to tell me twice, lass,” he quipped and pulled her along.

Her skin tingled, eager for his touch.

Nearly tearing the carriage door off its hinges, he ushered her inside, then gave quick orders to the coachman to return home before shutting and securing the door.

His look was practically feral as he pounced on her. She giggled as he nuzzled her neck, and she held him close. Placing her hands on his cheeks, she brought his face to hers and captured his mouth in a kiss. This time, she did what she longed to do when they were walking, she pushed her tongue into his mouth, seeking entry, and he happily obliged, allowing their tongues to do a wicked dance that set her body aflame.

The kiss continued, frenzied, as the carriage bounced along the road.

She wanted to feel his skin against hers. She couldn’t get enough of him. Reaching for his jacket, she pushed it off his shoulders, wanting him to rid himself of the constricting garment. She wanted to feel the bunch of his muscles under her palms.

But with a shaky breath, he captured her hands, kissing the fingertips of each one.

“Lass, as enticing as ye are right now, and believe me, ye are verra enticing,” he growled. “Howe’er, ye deserve more.”

Confusion furrowed her brow. “Pardon?”

“Our first time to lay together should not be in the cramped confines of a carriage. I want to see ye splayed out beneath me on the finest linens. Your hair free from pins so that I may run my fingers through the long locks. I want the opportunity to look upon every inch of ye. Savor ye as ye deserve to be savored.”

She felt her skin flush. Her initial reaction as to what she thought was rejection was gone and now replaced with the beauty of his words. They were heartfelt. Nothing so romantic had ever passed Harold’s lips.

Nodding, she straightened, bringing her hand up to her lips, swollen from his kisses and smiled. “I think I would like that very much.”

The smile that he gifted her with was dazzling.

As they continued their journey home, sitting side by side on the bench seat, her hand enveloped in his, she fought to understand how but only a few days ago, they didn’t know who the other was, and now they were bursting with unchecked desire.

Of course, a marriage needed more than that to survive. But how many marriages were loveless? Passionless? If they had those attributes, they could overcome anything. She believed that to her very core.

A core, that right now, yearned for the handsome man sitting beside her, his fingers softly stroking hers.