cloths and bathed the reverend’s face, then rose. “We’ll find a physician and send him back—”
“Not so fast.” Aaron seized her by the wrist and kept her from retrieving her cloak. “We have a bit of unfinished business.”
Brien froze at the raw command in his voice, then matched it.
“Let me go.”
“Did you hear what the good vicar said before he fell? A legal marriage requires three things.” He held up fingers as he enumerated them. “Mutual consent. Vows. And consummation.”
A wry smile bloomed on his face. “I’ll give you one guess as to which of the three we are missing.”
“Don’t be absurd,” she hissed, trying to wrest her hand from him.
“That was not part of our bargain.”
“True.” His expression sobered. “Fortunately for you, I’m willing to throw it in for free. In fact, I insist on it. If this is the only marriage I get, then at least I want it to be genuine.”
“Absolutely not!” She began to struggle in earnest. “Have you gone mad?”
“Oh, I think you will.” Aaron Durham dragged her closer and then caught her to him by the waist. “I may want a real marriage, but you need one.” He pulled her still closer and lowered his head and voice to her ear. “Two hours, sweetness. That’s all it requires. Spend two hours alone with me in the vicar’s bedchamber and you go on your way a truly married woman.
Whatever happens between us, your girl Ella, her uncle, and the good vicar here will be able to swear we were together long enough to make the union legal.”
When she hesitated, he added one final, irresistible persuasion. “I won’t do anything to you that you don’t want me to do.”
The warmth and solid strength of him, the taste of his mouth against hers, the galvanic surge of excitement in her as he pulled her into his arms earlier . . . those and a hundred more perceptions came rushing back at once, overwhelming her in a tidal wave of temptation. It was ridiculous to even consider spending two hours alone with him in a bedchamber, much less trusting him not to seduce or ravish her in the process. But there was some part of her, some reckless and long-denied legacy of Eve, that wanted to realize that ridiculous possibility and craved the experience of pleasure, and sensual indulgence at least once in her lifetime.
This was her chance. After all, she was wedded to the man. He was easy on the eyes and probably experienced in fleshly pleasures. Even if the worst should happen and if she were to become pregnant, at least she would be legally married. And there were worse fates than settling in a quiet, secluded cottage somewhere to raise a child. . . . Positives and negatives flew wildly through her mind, propelling her toward what now seemed an increasingly sensible course.
Aaron watched the girl he had taken to wife weighing his words and promises. Her anxiety-softened eyes caused a melting sensation in his gut. She seemed much younger just now, much less in control . . . much more desperate. Warring urges to plunder and to protect her raged inside him until he stanched both impulses and returned resolutely to the strange course that had joined them together in desire and necessity.
He had no doubt of what would happen if they entered that bedchamber together. They would consummate the vows, and she would be truly wedded and fully protected from whatever it was that had driven her to seek that most intimate of alliances with a total stranger. He tried to tell himself that the pleasures of exploring that mouth and those eyes and loosening that primly bound hair and sensible gown were secondary. But deep inside, he knew better. Just looking at her made his damned fingertips itch.
“Two hours,” he prompted, his voice husky with needs he didn’t fully understand. Two hours ago he had refused a marriage that would have secured his inheritance and paved the way for a life of ease and privilege. Then he had married a total stranger who might or
“Not so fast.” Aaron seized her by the wrist and kept her from retrieving her cloak. “We have a bit of unfinished business.”
Brien froze at the raw command in his voice, then matched it.
“Let me go.”
“Did you hear what the good vicar said before he fell? A legal marriage requires three things.” He held up fingers as he enumerated them. “Mutual consent. Vows. And consummation.”
A wry smile bloomed on his face. “I’ll give you one guess as to which of the three we are missing.”
“Don’t be absurd,” she hissed, trying to wrest her hand from him.
“That was not part of our bargain.”
“True.” His expression sobered. “Fortunately for you, I’m willing to throw it in for free. In fact, I insist on it. If this is the only marriage I get, then at least I want it to be genuine.”
“Absolutely not!” She began to struggle in earnest. “Have you gone mad?”
“Oh, I think you will.” Aaron Durham dragged her closer and then caught her to him by the waist. “I may want a real marriage, but you need one.” He pulled her still closer and lowered his head and voice to her ear. “Two hours, sweetness. That’s all it requires. Spend two hours alone with me in the vicar’s bedchamber and you go on your way a truly married woman.
Whatever happens between us, your girl Ella, her uncle, and the good vicar here will be able to swear we were together long enough to make the union legal.”
When she hesitated, he added one final, irresistible persuasion. “I won’t do anything to you that you don’t want me to do.”
The warmth and solid strength of him, the taste of his mouth against hers, the galvanic surge of excitement in her as he pulled her into his arms earlier . . . those and a hundred more perceptions came rushing back at once, overwhelming her in a tidal wave of temptation. It was ridiculous to even consider spending two hours alone with him in a bedchamber, much less trusting him not to seduce or ravish her in the process. But there was some part of her, some reckless and long-denied legacy of Eve, that wanted to realize that ridiculous possibility and craved the experience of pleasure, and sensual indulgence at least once in her lifetime.
This was her chance. After all, she was wedded to the man. He was easy on the eyes and probably experienced in fleshly pleasures. Even if the worst should happen and if she were to become pregnant, at least she would be legally married. And there were worse fates than settling in a quiet, secluded cottage somewhere to raise a child. . . . Positives and negatives flew wildly through her mind, propelling her toward what now seemed an increasingly sensible course.
Aaron watched the girl he had taken to wife weighing his words and promises. Her anxiety-softened eyes caused a melting sensation in his gut. She seemed much younger just now, much less in control . . . much more desperate. Warring urges to plunder and to protect her raged inside him until he stanched both impulses and returned resolutely to the strange course that had joined them together in desire and necessity.
He had no doubt of what would happen if they entered that bedchamber together. They would consummate the vows, and she would be truly wedded and fully protected from whatever it was that had driven her to seek that most intimate of alliances with a total stranger. He tried to tell himself that the pleasures of exploring that mouth and those eyes and loosening that primly bound hair and sensible gown were secondary. But deep inside, he knew better. Just looking at her made his damned fingertips itch.
“Two hours,” he prompted, his voice husky with needs he didn’t fully understand. Two hours ago he had refused a marriage that would have secured his inheritance and paved the way for a life of ease and privilege. Then he had married a total stranger who might or
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