Page 5 of The Viscount and the Minx (The Unlikely Betrothal: Prequel)

Chapter 5

Three weeks later

Marina

M arina wiped her mouth with a handkerchief, cursing her unsettled stomach. The nightmares hadn’t returned, but the anxiety remained—gnawing at her, twisting her insides. Perhaps it was punishment for keeping secrets from Evan. For convincing herself she hadn’t seen what she knew she had.

She’d spent countless hours at the window, watching the trees for movement, for some shadow slipping between them. Nothing. It would be easier to believe she’d imagined it—if not for the nagging unease that refused to leave.

And then there was Evan. He hadn’t been himself since his meeting with Browning. When she’d asked, he’d brushed it off, assuring her it was handled. Which only confirmed that it wasn’t. He should know by now he could talk to her, but no—he was a man about it. Bottling things up, letting pride and stubbornness keep him silent. She only allowed him to continue in such a manner because she kept her own secret.

With a sigh, she turned back to the desk, sorting through the growing pile of replies to her house party invitations. Almost all were acceptances thus far. Ironically, their closest friends had yet to respond. Hudson, Earl of Onslow, would attend—though not by choice. If anyone needed a wife to ease his perpetual brooding, it was him. Not that Marina held much hope of orchestrating a match. When it came to that difficult man, she would concede.

Lady Preston had requested to bring a friend, Lady Lily, which conveniently evened the numbers. That is, if no one declined at the last moment.

Movement at the door caught her eye. A footman. Again. She narrowed her gaze, and as if caught, he gave a stiff nod before retreating.

This was happening far too often.

When she’d questioned Baxter about the sudden increase in footmen, he’d claimed Evan had expanded the staff to accommodate the house party. A reasonable explanation. But she hardly needed to be babysat in her own home.

Then again… if someone was lurking in the woods, extra footmen weren’t the worst idea.

She picked up another letter and immediately recognized the Duke of St. Albans’ seal. Heart quickening, she broke it open. Scanning the contents, she let out an incredulous laugh.

“Well, holy hell.”

“And what,” a familiar voice drawled from the doorway, “has earned such a reaction from my perfect little minx?”

She smirked, not bothering to look up. “Lurking in doorways again? Some might call that stalking.” The words left her lips before she could stop them. She glanced toward the window. Nothing there.

Evan strolled over and settled on the desk’s edge. “Admiring, not stalking. There’s a difference.” He reached for her, his fingers trailing down her arm. “Besides, can’t a man watch his beautiful wife at work?”

He never failed to make her heart flutter. And damn him, he knew it.

“Indeed, he may. But I wasn’t aware watching me beat you in a wager was so captivating.”

Evan pulled her to stand, positioning her between his legs. “Everything you do is captivating.”

Leaning into him, Marina sighed as his arms encircled her. She fit against him perfectly, and his touch soothed her in a way nothing else could.

“Flatterer,” she murmured. “You needn’t try so hard. You’ve already won me, love.”

He hummed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Merely truthful. But do tell me—what wager have you bested me in? Because I do not admit defeat, except when you have a pistol in your hands.”

Smirking, she grabbed the letter from the duke and handed it to him. “Read it and weep.”

Evan’s gaze flicked over the page. A slow, amused grin curled his lips. “I should know better than to underestimate my formidable wife.”

She lifted a brow. “Perhaps one day you’ll learn. Now, dear husband, what have I won?”

His hands slid down her backside, gripping the cheeks of her arse. “What do you want?”

“You already know.”

Pleasure. Him. However he intended to deliver it—she had no doubt he would.

He lowered his lips to her ear, his voice molten. “Then be a good girl and lock the door.”

Heat shot straight to her core. Without hesitation, she moved across the room and slid the lock into place.

When she turned, Evan crooked his finger, beckoning her.

Slinking toward him, she barely made it before he seized her hips, lifting her onto the desk. In one sweep of his arm, papers scattered to the floor. He urged her back, her head tilting over the desk’s edge.

Cool air brushed her thighs as he pushed her skirts up, exposing her to him.

“If I had won,” he murmured, his voice thick with promise, “I’d take your mouth just as you are positioned now.” His fingers traced teasing circles along her thighs. “But since I concede victory…”

His tongue met her pearl, and she gasped. His grip tightened beneath her thighs, spreading her open further.

“Evan,” she moaned. He knew her body too well. Knew exactly how to unravel her, leaving her panting and needy for her husband.

Marina’s back arched, her head hanging further off the edge of the desk. Her fingers clawed at her skirts, desperate for something to clasp, holding them at her waist as his wicked tongue moved with agonizing slowness—from her pearl to her opening.

And then—lower. Much lower.

His tongue pressed against the forbidden place, sending a wicked pulse through her, making her pearl throb.

He knew exactly what he was doing. His fingers found her most sensitive spot, applying just the right pressure.

Three circles with his thumb pressed to her nub. That was all it took.

Pleasure radiated throughout every inch of her, scattering every thought. Stars burst behind her eyes as her body trembled beneath his touch. She shook from the intensity of her orgasm, allowing it to overtake her.

She barely had time to catch her breath before Evan pulled her upright, kissing her deeply. The taste of herself on his tongue only made her crave him more. And she was far from done taking her winnings.

“Sit in the chair,” she commanded.

Evan smirked. “I’m bringing you with me.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “That was implied.”

Lifting her effortlessly, he stepped back and lowered them both into the high-backed chair. Her knees fit perfectly on either side of his thighs, and she wasted no time slipping her hand between them, unfastening his falls as she kissed and nipped along his throat.

“I thought I lost,” he teased, tilting his head to grant her better access.

“And that is why you are under my control.”

He let out a rough chuckle. “I’ll remind you later who’s truly in control.” His breath hitched when she licked along his jaw.

Once freed, his cock stood thick and hard between them. Marina gripped the base, rose onto her knees, and guided him inside her as she sank down with a shuddering breath, fully seating herself.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

“What was that about control?” She lifted her hips, then slammed back down, drawing another deep groan from him.

His fingers dug into her hips. “Have your fun, love. But we both know that by tonight, you’ll be begging me to bend you over.”

He wasn’t wrong. She would. As much as she relished teasing him, she loved being at his mercy even more. And the bloody devil knew it.

Finding her rhythm, she rocked against him, shifting just right so he filled her perfectly. The pleasure built swiftly, but she cursed herself for not thinking to strip him first. His shirts and coat remained in the way, denying her the sight and feel of his muscular bare chest.

“Such a good little wife,” he rasped, gripping her tighter, guiding her movements as he thrust up into her. “You ride my cock so well.”

Marina leaned in, pressing her lips to his as he took over, his grip firm, controlling, driving her faster. She moaned into his mouth as her climax crept closer, fighting to hold on, to drag out the inevitable—

But she was lost. With one final thrust, pleasure shattered through her, sharp and consuming.

“That’s it,” he growled, holding her flush against him as his cock pulsed deep inside her, his heart racing against her from his own release. His breath came in ragged groans, his lips claiming hers in a possessive kiss.

Marina melted against him, her heart still racing. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” she whispered, her love for him thrumming through every inch of her.

He chuckled, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Good thing I had convinced you to marry me, then.”

She rolled her eyes, swatting at his chest.

“There’s my girl.” He grinned and kissed her again.

As much as she wanted to stay tangled in his arms, she had things to do to prepare for their guests to arrive in a week. With a sigh, she rose from his lap, letting his softened length slip free before smoothing her skirts back into place.

“I must go to the village today,” she said, pressing out the fabric. “I thought to take Arthur for some fresh air.”

Evan, still tucking himself back into his breeches, froze. “What? Why?”

She frowned. His reaction caught her off guard. He’d never taken issue with her going out for a bit of shopping. “To get a few things for the party. And perhaps a sweet roll.” She wouldn’t deny herself the comfort of sugar after the stress of the past few weeks.

“Send someone,” he said quickly. “You don’t need to go for yourself.”

Marina narrowed her eyes. What was the matter with him? “It’s just the village, Evan. If you’re so concerned, come with me.”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t think we should go at all when we can easily send someone in our place.”

Something was off. Folding her arms, she tilted her head—both to study him and because she knew the way it shifted her breasts would serve as a distraction. “I am going. You can come or not.”

“Marina—”

“Why, Evan?” she demanded. “Why is this an issue?” Could he know the secret she kept and wish to keep her hidden away at their estate?

Evan raked a hand down his face, glancing away. “There have been… robberies. It may not be safe.”

She blinked. “In broad daylight? Evan, come with me if you’re worried.”

His exhale was long and slow, clearly displeased. “If we go, we’re both carrying guns. And Arthur remains here.”

She gaped at him. “Are you mad?” He must be. He’d lost his damned mind. Since when did simple village errands require an armory?

His gaze flickered down—finally noticing her breasts—and she knew he must truly be worried if it had taken him that long.

“I haven’t gone mad,” he said flatly. “But I won’t take chances with your safety. Or Arthur’s.”

Marina sighed, stepping forward to cup his cheek. For all his overprotectiveness, she adored him for it. It was how he showed his love—for her, for their son. “If that is what you wish, I shall agree.”

As she pulled him with her so they could ready themselves for the trip, a thought prickled at the edges of her mind.

Had she really seen someone in the woods, after all? Could it have been one of these robbers?

Perhaps she should tell Evan.

She shook off the thought. Not yet. Given his behavior, if she did, she doubted he’d let her step foot outside the house again. Not that he’d actually keep her from doing as she pleased, but it would certainly make their trip more pleasant if they weren’t at odds.

But she would tell him when they returned. It could wait.